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Authors: Shelley Row
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forty seconds of shaking were not enough time to act. Mike noticed the cars moving in the parking lot. I fixated on a rocking bookcase and wondered if it would hit Mike if it toppled over. About the time my brain engaged to say – “let’s move” – the shaking stopped and the power went out. Everyone inside looked at each other as if to say, “Was that what I think it was?” But all seemed to be okay, at least initially. A shopkeeper was the first to say that what we experienced was small, but Christchurch was hit by a significant quake. Hummm. Crowds of people clustered into groups outside. Some listened to a car radio, and others gathered around a battery-powered radio outside the visitor center. The grim picture began to emerge.
The quake was 6.3 – smaller than the September quake – but it was closer and, importantly, near the surface. Rumors emerged that significant damage had occurred to many buildings in downtown Christchurch, such as the Cathedral and office buildings. Roads were closed and people were being evacuated.
It’s the strangest feeling – all the thoughts that converge at once – some noble and some not. Unfortunately, we’re beginning to become experienced at travel during emergency conditions. We focused first on practicalities like buying water and snacks – a good lesson from Cairo – particularly since we heard reports of broken waterlines and water quality problems in Christchurch. Next, we wondered about transportation. Would we be able to return to Christchurch on the bus that afternoon or would all the roads be closed? And if we made it back to Christchurch, would our hotel still be standing? Visions of sleeping in the tour van or in the park (the emergency center) flashed through our minds. We slept in the Cairo airport, why not a van or a tent? Even as we were sorting out our predicament, Mike and I were increasingly conscious of the depth of destruction. Buildings in Christchurch had collapsed on top of tour buses, and people were trapped inside damaged buildings. Phones were down so that locals (like our bus driver) could not reach family members. In the face of such serious problems, it felt trivial to spend a moment worrying about our issues, but we needed to deal with our practicalities even while being sensitive to the troubles of others.
The atmosphere was grave and uncertainty hung over the huddled crowd. No one knew what to do or what to expect. We boarded our bus (our bus driver finally reached his wife to find that she and their home were safe) and started for Christchurch, not knowing how close we could get or even if the hotels would be there. We drove past beautiful coves and over hills dotted with black and white dairy cows and fluffy sheep. The calm beauty was not enough to divert troubled thoughts from crowding our minds. About six kilometers from Christchurch, we began to see damage.
Cracks appeared in the roadway, and muddy humps like large ant hills splayed out alongside the road. This was liquefaction. The normally stable fine-grained soils turned to quick sand when moist and shaken. The material oozed to the surface leaving empty space under sidewalks and roadways that then caved in. Water ran down streets from waterline breaks. Buildings already boarded up from the first earthquake were turned to piles of rumble. Brick walls tumbled into the street. Cars lined up at any open gas station to fill their tanks before the damaged Lyttleton port was closed. For the second time in two weeks, we saw a convoy of army vehicles rolling down city streets.
After much maneuvering, our driver got us close to downtown. We walked from there. Our hotel, the Classic Villa, was literally three blocks from Cathedral Square in the heart of the damaged area. Mike and I hoped that we could get close. The more we walked, the more the damage escalated. Huge cracks in the pavement were encircled by orange cones. The large willow trees were missing branches two
The quake was 6.3 – smaller than the September quake – but it was closer and, importantly, near the surface. Rumors emerged that significant damage had occurred to many buildings in downtown Christchurch, such as the Cathedral and office buildings. Roads were closed and people were being evacuated.
It’s the strangest feeling – all the thoughts that converge at once – some noble and some not. Unfortunately, we’re beginning to become experienced at travel during emergency conditions. We focused first on practicalities like buying water and snacks – a good lesson from Cairo – particularly since we heard reports of broken waterlines and water quality problems in Christchurch. Next, we wondered about transportation. Would we be able to return to Christchurch on the bus that afternoon or would all the roads be closed? And if we made it back to Christchurch, would our hotel still be standing? Visions of sleeping in the tour van or in the park (the emergency center) flashed through our minds. We slept in the Cairo airport, why not a van or a tent? Even as we were sorting out our predicament, Mike and I were increasingly conscious of the depth of destruction. Buildings in Christchurch had collapsed on top of tour buses, and people were trapped inside damaged buildings. Phones were down so that locals (like our bus driver) could not reach family members. In the face of such serious problems, it felt trivial to spend a moment worrying about our issues, but we needed to deal with our practicalities even while being sensitive to the troubles of others.
The atmosphere was grave and uncertainty hung over the huddled crowd. No one knew what to do or what to expect. We boarded our bus (our bus driver finally reached his wife to find that she and their home were safe) and started for Christchurch, not knowing how close we could get or even if the hotels would be there. We drove past beautiful coves and over hills dotted with black and white dairy cows and fluffy sheep. The calm beauty was not enough to divert troubled thoughts from crowding our minds. About six kilometers from Christchurch, we began to see damage.
Cracks appeared in the roadway, and muddy humps like large ant hills splayed out alongside the road. This was liquefaction. The normally stable fine-grained soils turned to quick sand when moist and shaken. The material oozed to the surface leaving empty space under sidewalks and roadways that then caved in. Water ran down streets from waterline breaks. Buildings already boarded up from the first earthquake were turned to piles of rumble. Brick walls tumbled into the street. Cars lined up at any open gas station to fill their tanks before the damaged Lyttleton port was closed. For the second time in two weeks, we saw a convoy of army vehicles rolling down city streets.
After much maneuvering, our driver got us close to downtown. We walked from there. Our hotel, the Classic Villa, was literally three blocks from Cathedral Square in the heart of the damaged area. Mike and I hoped that we could get close. The more we walked, the more the damage escalated. Huge cracks in the pavement were encircled by orange cones. The large willow trees were missing branches two
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