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18 October 2009 @ 03:26 pm
Film at 11: Semper Prieta  
In 1989, when the Loma Prieta earthquake hit, I was in the United States Coast Guard, stationed at Coast Guard Group Monterey. Group Monterey (or Station Monterey, as it's called these days) is at Breakwater Cove, more or less at the other end of Cannery Row from the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

I was flopped on my bed, lazing around with the TV on after a long workday, waiting for the evening meal. October is when Monterey gets its brief glimpse at summer, so I'd doffed my uniform and was in my skivvies. I wasn't watching the World Series; a rerun of The Facts of Life had just started, and I was on the verge of grabbing the remote when things started shaking.

My reaction:
  1. Hm. Quake.
  2. Huh. It's still going.
  3. Holy Shit! It's the Big One!

Somewhere around 2.5, the reflexes of someone born in California and raised with earthquake drills through childhood kicked in, and I was under the table. The table, it should be noted, was Military Barracks Furniture, and probably sturdier than most houses: the legs were 4x4s. If the floor had dropped out from under me, I'd have been in some trouble, but if the ceiling had gone, I was, quite literally, covered.

When the shaking stopped, the power was out. I threw on some clothes -- I can't remember if it was my uniform or my civvies -- and ran downstairs to see if I was needed anywhere on base. I wasn't, so I jogged down Cannery Row at a good clip to assess the damages, particularly at the Aquarium; those big glass tanks were a particular concern, and I figured someone from an emergency service should look in on them.

The Aquarium was fine, as it turned out, and the docents were evacuating the tourists very professionally; power was out all up and down the row, and, in fact, in most of the town.

On the way back, I checked out the Marina, right by the pier; again, no serious damage, but the currents on the harbor were visibly off, twisting and turning and flowing the wrong way.**

Eventually, we heard from our engineers. Several of them had driven up to Alameda on a parts run. Before getting on the freeway, they'd stopped at a convenience store to get drinks for the long drive home -- and that's where they were when the quake hit. They stepped outside to see the section of Interstate 880 that they were about to take... collapsed into a sandwich.

The electricity was out for the next few days in Monterey; as a result, our commander shrugged and declared liberty for everyone but the watch crews, since the rest of us couldn't do much of anything without power tools. We had a generator to keep the Operations Center running, and it had enough juice to spare for the mess hall, as well.

I felt kind of bad, really: most of the coast was in chaos, and I got a long weekend and never even missed a hot meal. Even the duty days were surprisingly light; not many people go pleasure boating after a major catastrophe, and even the professional fishing fleet was taking a few days of downtime.

The aftershocks kept coming, though, for a couple of weeks, and we'd all get hyperalert when they did -- or when a truck rolled by. In fact, I was exceptionally vibration-sensitive for several more years, well after returning to civilian life and moving to Oceanside, in San Diego County -- just long enough to get jolted awake by the barely-perceptible fringes of the Landers quake in 1992.


*A decade later, taking Geography/Hydrology at CSUMB, I realized just what kind of underwater avalanches the quake must have triggered in the Monterey Underwater Canyon.
 
 
I feel: nostalgicnostalgic
 
 
 
Tombfyretombfyre on October 19th, 2009 12:06 am (UTC)
I was about to comment that a 2.5 would have barely been perceptible, but I remembered that quake and realized you must have made a typo. ^..^ Yep, I remember seeing all the damage from that one on the news in my younger days. And yeah, that must have made one hell of a sub-surface landslide if the water was moving in the wrong direction.
Your Obedient Serpent: facepalmathelind on October 19th, 2009 12:30 am (UTC)
I guess that wasn't clear: the "2.5" comment immediately followed the numbered list, and was supposed to convey "about midway between Point #2 and Point #3".
Tombfyretombfyre on October 19th, 2009 04:40 am (UTC)
Ah-ha, didn't quite catch that bit then. ^^ My bad! I interpreted it as a numbered sequence of your thought process at the time.
Anvil*: Bridgestonethoughtsdriftby on October 19th, 2009 01:33 am (UTC)
I was in my office on the second floor of a tilt-up industrial building in Palo Alto. Sadly the earthquake was busy adjusting my property value downward. Coworker and self immediately made our way to the coffee pot (with the power out it would soon go cold). Spent time turning things off, closing windows, and checking that everyone made it out safely and then went out to the parking lot to my truck to listen to the radio (and make another pot of coffee).
Later I dropped by my folks to start a generator and get the lights and TV going and then rounded up my future spouse (her 3rd floor apartment had unloaded some kitchen shelves and a portion of the refrigerator contents) and took her over to her moms for the night and setting up a portable TV.
(Deleted comment)
Your Obedient Serpent: green hills of earthathelind on October 20th, 2009 04:51 am (UTC)
My sister said something very eloquent about that, just yesterday: "I'd rather live with the occasional earthquake than with weather that is actively trying to kill you."

She wasn't even talking about hurricanes and tornadoes, really: no, she meant just plain winter in places where it snows and freezes and you can get cut off from everything. People die every year from Just Plain Winter; a lot more, all told, then quakes kill.

(Summer heat in places like Arizona also counts as "actively trying to kill you".)