Elon student, family recount tsunami tragedy

In the hours and days following the tsunami, Stagg, pictured at right, and her family helped residents with cleanup efforts on the beach in Phuket.

Below is the text of an e-mail Beth Kramer sent to friends after the family returned home to Singapore:

Dear Friends,

Just back from Phuket a couple of hours ago, I’m beginning to realize that people are concerned about our safety. Someone who knew we were there posted our names on CNN, and I guess it looked like we were missing. Happily, we are okay, but we had a very close shave. Here’s what happened to us.

There were three waves – or rather surges of high water – each bigger than the previous one, with about 10-15 minutes between them. Of course we didn’t know there would be three until after the fact. The first one hit around 9:40 a.m. on Dec. 26th. I was sitting with Caitlin and Hanna (with us for the holidays) as they had their breakfast in the open-air restaurant at the bungalows where we always stay.

For those of you familiar with Phuket, our bungalows are high on the hillside between Promthep Cape and a small, rather unknown beach called Ya Nui. Michael, who likes the beach for only an hour or so in the morning, came by to say he was going on down to the water. We told him we’d be down in about 15 minutes. About two minutes later, Hanna, who had a view of the sea from her seat, noticed the sea was discolored and murky – significantly different from usual, like a tongue of brown spreading from south to north. We ran to the side of the hill for a better look and saw the beach below was entirely covered in water and many of the chairs and umbrellas were out in the sea.

Leaving breakfasts unfinished, we took off down the hill, curious about what it was, and a little worried. Just as we arrived at the low point in the road where a small parking lot leads to the beach, the second surge hit. The girls and I easily outran it back up the hill, although Michael was in water up to his shins in the parking lot at the time. He had a few scratches on his legs but hadn’t really been at risk from that wave where he stood.

Basically, we were stupid and didn’t realize the danger at that point. The little beachside restaurant where we often eat lunch had been hit by that second wave and everything was overturned. We started to help pick up chairs, plastic tables, and umbrellas, and Michael went out to rescue a German woman who had fled to a small island a few meters off the beach. She came up to the road, but other tourists hung around with us, watching the sea recede again (tip from recent experience: if the sea goes out, it will come back). Then Michael, still standing on the beach, spotted a wall of water about 300 meters offshore, a lot higher than him. We heard it too, from our spots up by the restaurant (maybe 5 seconds closer to safety than Michael) and literally ran for our lives. It was frightening beyond belief – the roar of the water, and the real possibility that we’d be swept away by its incredible force. Such a sprint I’ve never done before. It was absolutely clear we could die if we didn’t outrun it. We made it to higher ground in time, with Michael, thanks to his long legs, close at our heels. If any of us had been 3 meters behind, we would have been caught by the water.

As soon as we were high enough, we turned to watch the wave crash in behind us. Ya Nui Beach, which we love because it’s small and out of the way, sits in a depression between two hills. The water funneled through the lower ground, crashed over the road and took out about 10 or 12 low-lying bungalows and about four concrete houses in its path, extending about a kilometer inland. Everything in the path of the water was totally destroyed, just as you’ve probably seen on TV this week. As of yesterday, seven bodies had been found in that area, and today they are looking for more, suspected because of the smell. One of the dead was a woman who owned one of the concrete houses on the beach. She once gave Michael and me a ride to the clinic for a dressing change after his motorcycle accident about four years ago. Leonie. Her cremation is today.

After the third wave, which happened to be the last, we realized we should stay away from the beach. Thai policemen came around a couple of hours later and warned of another, larger tsunami due in 2 to 4 hours. That turned out to be false, as were other rumors yesterday. Because of the geography of the area, we pretty much had to stay at our bungalows or nearby to stay out of uncertain danger. No one was going anywhere that day – not digging out or looking for bodies; everyone was staying on high ground, scared to descend.

During the following days, however, we spent part of the time helping the folks on Ya Nui Beach begin to sort, clean up, and burn debris, and part of the time at other nearby places that we knew well, just taking it in. While everything is destroyed, it’s not as if one can just start rebuilding. Bits of plastic tables are tangled in grass roofing, weighed down by concrete slabs and tangled with wires. For three days, we were working solely by hand, with only a few rakes and a hoe, and then yesterday a truck full of Thai soldiers arrived along with a bulldozer. They also brought dogs for the grim task of searching for more bodies (something we had not attempted – the marshland was still full of water and strewn with too much debris). While there was significant loss of life along a few beaches, the odd thing was that most of the island seemed totally normal all week, unless you listened to conversations. In fact, not having TV or phones in our bungalows, we really didn’t comprehend the scope of the disaster for several days. Restaurants were open, stores were in operation, traffic moved as always. Michael took an acquaintance to the local clinic when he stepped on a nail while sorting debris, and he was fixed up immediately, no waiting. It was as if there were two Phukets – the nightmare one, and the usual one. We heard people were leaving, but for a couple of days didn’t understand why.

As we now know, our little beach was a microcosm of the tragedy in the region, although other areas such as Phi Phi Island and Kao Lak – not to mention other countries – were affected much more. We went into Patong on the 27th and saw incredible damage there too. Sadly, there were two basement stores – one a supermarket, and the other an area occupied by about thirty artists selling their paintings, on the main beach road. Michael and Hanna had been down in the artists’ area two days earlier, talking to some of them. Those immediately filled with water and probably everyone within drowned. It’s so horrible to think of, when you’ve just spoken with someone, or noticed them on the beach, and then to know they are dead.

The extent of damage was much greater in Patong, it being low and more built up. At McDonalds on Beach Road, furniture was all crammed at the back of the splintered restaurant with Ronald upside down and half buried. Looting, unfortunately, had been going on there (but not at smaller places like our beach). The jewelry stores had been totally cleaned out.

Leaving through the Phuket airport this morning, the sad reality became even more vivid. The airport was plastered with pictures of missing people, every pillar covered with papers asking “Have you seen?” – a missing Swedish two-year-old, an entire family from Norway missing at Kao Lak, a 39-year old mother, a 19-year old student from Stanford last seen on Phi Phi Island. In the boarding lounge, a white-haired man held a sobbing younger woman. Standing nearby, we wondered whom she had lost. A child? A husband? Both? As we’ve known all week, we are so lucky that all four of us are alive and unhurt. I am glad to have had the extra few days in Phuket to help, in a very small way, and just take it in and process it. Hard to do when you fly out immediately and everything is normal back home.

Guess I’ve gone on a bit, but just wanted you to know we’re safe. Hug your family. You never know.

Beth