Act of God - Phuket, Thailand
Save This Page
| 
Stumble It!Phuket, Thailand
The Tsunami hit the west side of Phuket and we were on the east when it happened, at a marina with a hotel and residences. I was sitting by the pool reading a book on destinies when my brother came to give me the news. He had just returned from taking his newborn baby girl to the hospital for a "better be safe than sorry" sort of check up.
"A giant Tsunami has hit Phuket, I guess Patong Beach has been wiped out."
I stood to watch water rushing into the slough leading into the marina along with boats full of day trip sightseers. The water kept coming and coming and so did the boats. We walked over to the bakery and saw that the section of the marina holding most of the boats appeared unaffected aside from the fish that were jumping out of the water, occasionally flopping onto the dock.
As I sat at an outside table and had some breakfast, a girl asked me if I knew where a payphone was that she could use. I offered to let her use my mobile. Her parents were at Ko Samui on the other side of mainland Thailand and she wanted to let them know she was all right.
She tried once but couldn't get through. I redialed the call about ten times before connecting to a hotel operator. She had stepped away so her friend took the phone and after trying to the ring the room of the other girls' parents, she left a message, "Will you just tell them it's their daughter calling and we are O.K., we're safe, everything is O.K."
But for the Thai man standing at the railing across the walkway from me, everything was not O.K. He had received a call from the police saying that Phi Phi Don Island, where his family was, had been badly hit. He was unsure about their safety but had been told many people had climbed to higher ground. He hoped his family was among the safe.
We all sympathized with him still trying to put the pieces together on what had happened. "What a tragedy," one of the girls said. "I need to know what has happened," said the other. "Is there some place we can see an international news station in English, like BBC or CNN?"
Before I left to find my family, I wished the Thai man luck, "I hope you find your family, I hope they're well." He thanked me with a concerned look on his face.
I found my brother, his son, his girlfriend and baby daughter, my sister and her boyfriend, and my mother soaking up the sunshine at the hotel pool where it seemed almost as if nothing had happened aside from the stories my brother told that he heard from people he had spoken with.
One man was out at a little island nearest to the marina. It was a popular stop for the day trip sightseers to stop for a swim, to lounge or even snorkel, which was what he was doing. He was in the water with his wife and son when his boat captain called him in. Just as they climbed aboard, the surge came and the whole island was instantly submerged. The boat rode it without any problem.
The idea to see the news had seeped into my head by now and I returned to the room to turn on the television. The death toll was at 5,000. The tsunami had struck not only Thailand, but also India, Sri Lanka and originated from an earthquake centered off the coast of Indonesia.
I felt the earthquake that morning. So did my sister, she told her boyfriend to "Stop shaking the bed!" The whole place shook and not just for a moment but more like a continuous minute or two. I thought the shaking emanated from the room next to mine, as I've had active neighbors in the past.
At dinner, we vocalized some of the "what ifs?" that had been playing through our minds. For me, it was roll back 24 hours before the tsunami hit to Christmas Day. My brother, my sister, her boyfriend and I were wading through a pitch-black cave with a flickering flashlight. My mother and nephew waited outside the caves opening to the sea at a small beach aside a high rising rock wall on an island in one of the hardest hit areas, Phang-Nga Bay. What if that wave would have hit then?
For my brother, it was the day before that. We were all at Patong Beach. What if it would've come while my mother had her eyes closed getting that Thai massage, while he and his son were riding jet skis, when nearly every chair on that beach was occupied with a life on holiday.
The next day I went with my brother and his son and rented a motorbike. I had thought it would be nice to find some way to help but we did like most everyone else we saw walking around in a mix of disbelief and shock. We rode toward Patong Beach. The traffic crawled up the hill where many people had taken refuge and then slowly down the other side where parked cars lined the road.
As we neared the beach, the disaster became evident. Two cars stood on end sandwiched to one another, roofs to destroyed businesses were caved in, and debris was piled high against a shrine of the Buddha. We walked out to the beach, not to the scene of sunny holidaymaking it was two days ago, but to a dismal scene of scattered wreckage. What happened to all those smiling faces that worked on the beach, the sun bed operators, masseuses, and fruit vendors?
We rode north along the western coastline past Kamala Beach to see more of the same and when we returned to our room we flipped on the television for the latest update. The death toll was up to 50,000 and rising. The whole thing was so sad and so difficult to believe. It was as if it were all just one big elaborate act. Unfortunately, for far too many, it was all too real.
For more writing by S. Spots, check out his book Slipstream Stories, Return to the Source.
Save This Page
| Stumble It!
