Things they lost in a tsunami
Years after the Japanese tsunami, debris from the wreckage continues to wash up on the shores of British Columbia
Topics: The Walrus, Canada, Japan, tsunami, essays, Natural Disasters, Life News
A man looks at the tsunami dock that washed ashore on Agate Beach in Newport, Ore.(Credit: AP/Rick Bowmer)
IN MARCH of last year, after a violent spring storm, Sheila Williams took her long-legged Afghan hound, Saffy, out for a walk on the Wild Pacific Trail near Ucluelet, on the southwestern tip of Vancouver Island. Off the trail, at the end of an unmarked path in an unnamed cove, they found a white and blue rubber house slipper with Asian characters. Williams wondered if it could have made its way from the tsunami-ravaged east coast of Japan, and headed to an Asian supermarket to ask for a translation.
A few weeks later, the ghost ship Ryou-Un Maru was spotted off the BC coast, just one wreck among the estimated five million metric tons of debris washed into the ocean from Japan by the 2011 tsunami. About 30 percent of that flotsam now drifts across an area in the North Pacific roughly three times the size of the continental US (the rest sank). It is impossible to know when, where, or in what quantities the debris will land on the west coast of North America, but the US government’s National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts that it will begin arriving en masse with the early winter storms of this year.
Williams and I returned to the cove a few months later. As we made our way through the dense forest, the mud, wet from the near-constant rain, sucked at our shoes. With a nimbleness that belied her sixty-eight years, Williams clambered over a wall of driftwood and onto the cove’s surf-pounded black rocks—the kind of secluded place rum-runners favoured during Prohibition. A carpet of shimmering clamshell shards crunched beneath our feet. Crushed pop bottles caught in dark, algae-lined rock pools. Some shapes were familiar to me, resembling the unsweetened iced green tea I used to guzzle when I lived in Japan.
The bottles reminded me of another shoreline on the other side of the Pacific, in Shichigahama, Miyagi Prefecture. As part of the relief effort, I spent a day digging up ocean silt and readying the area for resettlement, five months after the three-metre tsunami crashed through this beachside town. Entire neighbourhoods had been lifted inland, and I could still see the remnants of houses scattered through farmers’ fields nearby. Our volunteer crew sifted out layers of broken glass and knick-knacks, bagging them and sending them off to a mountain of trash across the valley. Beneath the layers of sand, I came across a prayer bracelet of clear glass beads. When I handed it to our volunteer supervisor, he laid it on a house foundation, unsure what to do with it. So much had been displaced; it was hard to know where to start.





30 Places You'd Rather Be Sitting Right Now
Comments
0 Comments