Tsunami Evacuation.

*stomp stomp*
*clomp clomp*
*flick*
My light gets blasted on.

“Phoebe, you need to get up!”

I sit straight up.
“What?!?”

“There’s a Tsunami warning, you need to get dressed and get in the van, now!”

It’s the middle of the night.
I can hear the winds, rain and roar of the ocean out my window.

I grab my phone and it’s charger.
I throw it into my purse.

I’m fumbling around trying to find the right clothes to wear.
Comfortable, warm, no time for cute.

My heart is racing.

Could this really be the end?

I grab my water and an orange that’s on my desk.

With my mom, I’ve always been slow getting out the door.
This was the time to break that.

My pillow.
A blanket.

We need to get the cat.

Mom has thrown sleeping bags by the door and is trying to catch Rei.

I’m shaking.

“Rei. Rei. Come on baby. We need to go.”

She’s hiding under the bed.

“Uh, Uh, throw some treats on the floor for her!”

We can’t catch her and we need to go!

We comfort each other with the understanding that she can climb a tree.

We are in the van and out the lane.

Mom turns the radio on.

“*Bleep! Bleep!* Tsunami warning has been issued for the British Columbia Coast. Haida Gwaii. Evacuate and move to higher ground.”

My mom gives me phone numbers and I begin to call our neighbours who live on the beach.

“Hello, it’s your neighbour Phoebe Dykstra, there’s a Tsunami warning, mom and I are headed up the hill!”

My mom wants me to call my dad.

I don’t feel that waking him at 2am to a call that his wife and daughter are running from a potential TSUNAMI is a nice idea.
This will only bring fear.

“If something happens to us, he’ll know.”
“You’re right.”

We get to town and begin to follow the rest of the evacuating vehicles.

This was the most commotion I’ve seen since arriving on Haida Gwaii.

It was unclear of exactly where to park.

We see emergency vehicles.

“Let’s stop here”

Its 3am.
It’s raining.
It’s windy.
It’s dark, and...
I can see the ocean to my right.

The ocean!?

“THIS is the safe zone?!”

There is no cell reception.

Most people stay in their vehicles.

We see a few Haida people standing in the rain without jackets, having smokes.

I’m huddled up under the sleeping bag with my toque pulled down to cover my cold forehead.

My mom isn’t comfortable with me forming a relationship with tobacco, she jokes that I should go have a smoke with them.

I stay inside but yes, prayer is a good idea.

I wonder what my teacher in Peru would suggest I do?

I repeat in my mind that I surrender.
I know that everything is exactly as it should be.
I trust in the perfection of nature.

I tease my mom because she’s got fears but tonight she seems very calm.
I feel that she respects the ocean and trusts the bigger plan.
I feel safe because she is here with me .

Ironically we had just watched The Impossible, the true story about the family who got caught in the Tsunami that happened in 2004 in Asia!

We low five each other and hold hands.

“It’s just you and me.”
“It’s always been, just you and me.”

I awaken to the vehicles in front of us moving.

The Tsunami warning for the BC Coast, Alaska and Haida Gwaii has been lifted.

I guess we are meant to see another day!

I sleep all the way home.

“Hi Rei!”
“Love you mamma!”

And back to bed.

Photo by Stephane Levesque