Doodle - by the time cyclones get here from the tropics, then are generally a bit worn-out and worse for wear. Not always, of course, and poor old Gisborne and the East Coast are periodically very badly affected by storms. Being in Northland, we do get weather events, being the closest to the tropics. When we lived in the Far North, up to 6 months ago, we used to get very heavy rain on occasions, and we had a memorable day following the big Pacific earthquake earlier this year. We lived on the Whangaroa harbour, possibly the most beautiful, unspoiled place in the world (Kaimoana will back me on this), and there were texted emergency warnings, tsunami sirens, police cars with flashing lights and speakers blaring messages to evacuate the area immediately. So we packed up emergency rations and removed ourselves, car and special treasures to the top of the hill where I have my “ladyshed”, my retreat from the world, in the bush, huge deck, magnificent view of the harbour, but with electricity to make the essential cups of tea. We sat on the deck in the sunshine and waited for the inundation. And waited. Still waiting…Then, The Wave approached. We watched, fascinated, as the wall of water raced towards the shore, just below the house. Followed by another, slightly smaller.
The wall of water, at least 4 inches high, lapped the pohutukawas delicately. And that was IT. The Great Tsunami of 2021. I shouldn’t mock, because archaeology shows a series of absolutely massive tsunamis have hit the East Coast over the last few thousand years, as the result of various eruptions, quakes and underwater landslides. And will happen again.
Historically, we don’t have earthquakes in the North, as it’s an ancient volcanic zone, now eroded and geriatric. But when I was living further south, we had quakes regularly as children. I remember thinking that my Dad was an absolute genius, because he used to tell us that we were about to have a quake. Little did I know that the pheasants on the farmland around us used to warn of the earth’s movements some time before we could feel it. I used to explain to my little Latin students that this was why the Romans revered birds as being tellers of the future. I kept a plastic chicken called Chester on my desk – the Sacred Chicken, who could always tell who was likely not to have done his/her prep. He also dispensed jelly beans to worthy winners of games and activities. I remember one huge quake when my children were small…and my clever daughter, only about 7 years old, who had the initiative, and courage, to leap to save a precious vase as it fell from the bookcase. Shows how useful netball skills are! That was a strange quake –a rumble like a steam engine, then an enormous gust of wind, just before the event.
Well, folks, that’s your geography lesson du jour. Until next time, when the lesson will be on …. Nuclear fission!!
This was, of course, her first experience of intimacy and she loved it.
