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Locals running, caught on the high tide cycle

The earthquake had faded from our memories around now. It was a distant memory we had forgoten or had chosen to block/delete from our minds. We walked around town. People went on their daily routine oblivious to the Tsunami that was created by this morning underwater earthquake. All of a sudden though, around 2:45 PM, we started sensing panic in the people. Some where running in the streets. Others where covering the windows and doors with ply wood. What the hell? We didn't knew the language, no one had told us to run, but a small spark in our brains told us to go back to Lagundri, away from this panic. We walked and walked until a bike picked us off and offer us a ride back to town for a higher price then before. Oh well, what can we do?

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The beach looked like hell after the Tsunami

We arrived to town starving, around 3:30 PM. We had seen the girls eating earlier, but didn't had appetite. We found a local cafe and went in for lunch. No sooner had our meal and coffe arrived when the local population of the village risen in the similar fashion as in Teluk Dalam. People where running for the hills in panic. Some where carrying electronics, other their chickens, or pets. Kids carried their younger brothers or sisters. The parents tried their best to haul their belongings to higher ground. The Tsunami was about to hit Lagundri Beach. It wasn't a massive wave as in the movies. Oh no, it was rather a high tide that came in with force, plowing through the village, flooding the buildings and anything in sight. It came within meters of the road, which in itself was on higher ground located about 100 meters from the beach. ***! What to do? With fork on one hand and coffee on another. We dropped our food and took for the street to take pictures of the scene. Mad tourists we where. At that point, we felt more like reporters taking award winning pictures left and right. Wait a second, this is not TV, not a picture in the news paper. This is real life, happening right in front of us and our eyes. Run, run, run. We ran alright, back to the hotel, which was situated on one of the worst spots to be, 10 meters from the beach. The only saving grace was that it was a sturdy, concrete, 3 story building. We had to go through the flooded road leading into the place. It was knee high at times. At times, the water came pushing in full force, but not harmfull enough. It receeded by the time we reached the hotel. In the meantime, we continued on taking mad pictures of the scene around us. The buildings where flooded with water. The owners had left, hours ago no doubt without even a warning to us as we were not around. We went down to the beach. The tide was lower then it had been in centuries. The corral reef was exposed... the river leading to land was throwing down a storm of water as the flood waters where receeding.

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A local tries to salvage his bike (river shot)

In no time, the tide began to change their ways... high tide, the floods, where taking over again. We ran to the second floor to our rooms. We then took front row seats from the safety of the balcony. The waters came in and out as earlier in the morning. At one point the first level was flooded with about 1 meter of water. About 10 minutes later the water had receeded once more. The cycle would continue on for the rest of the afternoon in 10 minute intervals. We would occassionally venture down to the beach, but had to ran back when the tide crept back up. It wasn't until 6 PM when the tides had calmed down a bit and the high/low tide cycle had mellowed down to every 20-30 minutes. It gave us time to go down to the beach and head over to see how the Swiss girls where doing. The bay was as low as in a normal low tide. The flood had cleaned it from the normal monsoon rainy season debree that was once scattered on the shore (palm leaves, coconuts, and the prizy corral rock that floated to shore). They where in a shacky wooden bungallow and so we were worried. We arrived only to see it borded up and evacuated. Huh? Where we a bit naive on linging around the hotel. Nah, it was safe as hard stone. We exit the beach and walked the main road. The bungallow owner found us and told us that the Swiss girls had been evacuated to a nearby village in higher ground. He told us to meet him with our bags on a specific location. So, we hurried back to the hotel to collect our bags. On our way we passed Anny, the hotel owner, who asked us if we could bring her chicken. Sadly, we couldn't find it. The only others there where the 2 locals from Jakarta that where building an antena for cell-phone usage. We bid them farewell as we packed our stuff.

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Local sees the incoming high tide water on hotel

We met Ion 10 minutes later and had dinner at one of the local villagers house. Materialistic as they where, they didn't lost a chance to rip us out of our money. No option I guess so pay them the ransom they ask for the meal and for the motorcycle ride. Back home, in a situation like this, locals and foreigners alike will join in solidarity to help each other. Here, they were already looking for ways to make money out of us. We wouldn't had been mad had they told us the truth. They charges us an exhorbitant rate and simply took us on a short 1 km ride on their bikes to the side of a steep 1 km long staircase. It was slippery from the morning rain, but eventually managed to reach the top. Ion was following us reluctangly. We pleaded to him to take us to see the girls. He showed us through the village. Hiti Amaeta is an old fashion village build high atop a hill, away from harms way during the flood. The buildings are mostly old fashion in a curved like design that resembles a large boat. They are build high above ground and so have a small stair. The exterior is traditional wood, but the roofs are now made of long lasting metal. A brick road bisects the town in the middle.

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Next door neighbors got devastated

We walked down this road and came into the house of Annie's mother, our host at the hotel. She was doing fine and was sad we didn't brought the chicken with us. We were expecting the Swiss girls. Worried as we where we pleaded to him to show us the way to the girls. Reluctantly, he showed us the way to his mother-in-laws house, where the 2 swiss, the Aussie and his Britt gf where. We were all releaved on seeing each other. After exchanging tales on the ordeal of the day, we took of walking along the maing road in town. The locals where having a meeting today. They got in a big group to sing and pray for the well being of the touris village below. Most of them depended on the income of that tourist village. We were not at ease that night, but somehome managed to find some sleep. The six of us spent the night sleeping on the floor, cuddling next to each other, not too far away from harms way.

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Same river as before, but in high tide!

We awoke early the next morning around 6 AM. Villagers where already awake, some hadn't slept at all. We gathered our bags, paid a fair and kind ransome to the lady of the house, and walked down to the beach to access the damage. The houses and hotels closest to the surfer beach where the worst hit. Foundations were shaken, some houses came tumbing down. Bungalows where lost to the sea. The remaining buildings where totally flooded, as they had been built too low for their own good. If only they had build in higher ground, if only they had built them above ground? What differerce it would have made. There where to many ifs... the eagerness to make money had driven them to build closer and closer to the beach. To cut the building costs they hadn't build them elevetad from the ground as they were traditionally done. The result was devastating. We pitty this people, but there was nothing we could do. We had to look at our own end as well. We where in an island, isolated from Sumatra, another bigger island in the island nation of Indonesia. The conditions in the region where not good at all. The grape vine had spread dramatically and now there was speculation of damage crossing the Andaman Sea and Bay of Bengal affecting the Maldives, Sri Lanka, India, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, and of course Indonesia. Worst yet, the Tsunami tidal waves will probably return with force tonight at high tide. We had to move out of the island and we had to move fast. Tensions where everywhere. We each drifted apart to see the destruction of each of our hotels. Eoin and I paid a handsome amount to the locals and bid them good luck and farewell.

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The land looked like the ocean at times with boats

We took a motorbike each into town, Teluk Dalam. The waters had receeded in here as well. We were dropped in the telephone office, where both of us called our families to set them more at ease that we were alright. We had no idea when or how, but we will get ourselves out of Palau Nias, out of Sumatra, out of Indonesia. Our goal wasn't travel anymore, it was evacuation and survival. The nearest city away from the disaster was KL, Malaysia. A ferry was out of the question on this caotic sea. Incidently, it was as peaceful as a lake today all across our journey. There were no direct flight from Palau Nias to KL, and no flights what soever from the south of the island. We had to get out so we chartered a minibus to take us north to the town of Gunung Stoli, We began our journey around 9 AM. The road was full of debree as we went through several segments of it right next to the coast. As we drove to higher ground, we experience a different side of the island. The locals lived in their traditional villages in higher ground and thus where saved from the destruction. However, there where enough newer coastal villages affected by the disaster. Houses where dragged deep into sea. Boats where standing on the wrong side of the road, dragged overland by the Tsunami. The road was a mess. At times it was full of mud. It was only in the highlands that we encounter the good roads.

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Surfer rescues his crying and scared dog

It took us a few hours, but we managed to get into the airport around 12:00, with a short lunch stop included. We had no ticket, only that phone reservation we made yesturday. We could head the plane engines starting. It was a small twin-propeller plane. We didn't want to miss it and so where pleading to the man to let us through. We said we had a reservation, which we did as we had phoned the day before. He looked on his list, saw my name, Fernando (which is quite common in Indonesia as they get all the Mexican telenovelas, soap operas, in reruns over here). He looked outside, told us to wait, and dashed out to talk to the pilots. He came back in and sold us the ticket to board the plane. We had no time to think. We grabbed our bags, paid the man the equivalent of $41 USD in local currency and then took off running down the landing field towards the plane. We boarded the small plane, which only had enough seeting for 22 passangers. It was half full today and in the front where the 2 swiss, the aussie, and the britt... They where all smiles and thumps up as we had made it in time :). Phew!