A Tapestry of Natural Phenomena

A geology professor up at the university estimates that there is a 78% probability of a 5.0 aftershock within seven days of the main quake (which was Saturday at 4:30pm), and a 5-10% chance of an even larger (than 6.5) temblor in that period. The fact that there were seven quake events of at least 6.2 magnitude in a 10-month period of 1991-92 (see post below) does not fill me with comfort.

We did have some damage here after all. One of the massive water tanks, which holds the water pumped up from the well down by the river, shifted sometime during or after the quake. The now-tilting tank put some pressure on a PVC pipe, which pulled at this joint and that, causing one of the joints to snap. I first noticed problems with the water yesterday, when it was milky and seemed almost carbonated, but didn't think anything of it. This morning, however, the pressure in my shower was noticeably less, and it was spitting and coughing, indicating the presence of air in the pipes. I talked to my landlord about it, and we went to investigate in the pump house, where we saw the break. It's being repaired now, but I've been without water all day.

Water is soon not going to be in short supply, as the sky has gotten apocalyptically dark. There's a big thunderstorm on the radar just offshore (it's probably raining on the quake's epicenter right now), biding its time before coming ashore and beginning the three days of predicted rain.

So after feeling the earth move under my feet, soon we'll have the sky tumbling down (a-tumbling down.) I just hope I don't lose control, down to my very soul, and get hot and cold, all over, all over, all over, all over.

The Hits Just Keep On Coming

We had another 4.1 aftershock at about 10:30 last night. I was reading in bed at that time and didn't notice a thing. I have, however, begun to notice, or perhaps imagine, subtle shaking from time to time. It might be little aftershock, or it might just be my blood pressure; who can say?

I hope the worst is over for this event, but a disquieting history lesson was dropped on my doorstep this morning (see left; click to enlarge.) I don't know about you, but by the end of April 1992, I'd have moved the hell outta here.

(The table is published in today's edition of the Times-Standard.)

I Got Lucky

My friends L&D live in Eureka, and I have not been able to reach them by telephone. So today I decided to drive up there to make sure everything was all right. When I got there, it was immediately obvious that they were gone for the weekend (mail in the mailbox, car gone, etc.), so I decided I should check on the cats and make sure there wasn't anything (like a gas leak) that needed immediate attention. Using the spare key, I let myself in and looked around.

First and foremost, I located all three cats, and they were safe and healthy, their normal selves. They had food and clean water and were fine. There were no gas leaks, the power was on, and there seemed to be no immediate danger to anyone.

While there was no significant damage, most every room in the house was a jumble of fallen and broken items. In the dining room (above right; click on the picture to enlarge it), a curio shelf had collapsed, taking numerous china pieces to their doom. The kitchen was a mess of broken glass, and the bathroom had toiletries all over the place. But the TV was upright, and so were all the stereo components, and even the Christmas tree!

I went upstairs, where they have two rooms that are mostly just used for storage. One of them was a mess, but it's always a mess, and we won't go into that. :) The other, however, looked like a very selective miniature tornado had visited it (left.) A big filing cabinet had fallen over and spilled its contents, and a number of books had fallen off bookshelves. However, most of the books were still in their proper places, evidently undisturbed.

All throughout the house, almost every cabinet door, closet door, or room door that could be open was open. To my mind, this seems to defy the randomness of the event. I can see why the shaking would swing closed doors open, but why would at least some of them not then swing shut again?

Anyway, I took some pictures and otherwise left the mess alone. They may want to document the state of the place for insurance purposes, and/or just see what the aftermath of a 6.5 looks like. Furthermore, it wouldn't be up to me to decide what is garbage and what should be kept for possible repair. I decided that the best course of action was to leave a message about the condition, offer my cleanup help when they want it, and otherwise leave things as they were.

Nineteen Hours Later

"Earthquake? What earthquake?"

Earthquake Preparedness

After today's magnitude 6.5 temblor, the epicenter of which was maybe 30 miles from my house, I have earthquake preparedness on my mind. I'm feeling pretty good, since this was a fairly major event and my only damage was a broken vinegar bottle. But despite the fact that lots of people appear to feel that this was the biggest quake in memory (I suppose those who don't feel that way don't get quoted by the media), there's likely bigger ones on the way in this, the most seismically active area of the continental USA. So I can't help thinking of this as a great test of my readiness for the Big One.

My initial reaction was that a very, very big truck which had escaped my notice was rumbling past the house. It was more the noise, a very loud, low rumble, than the shaking that I noticed, at least for a second or so. Then the nearly full vinegar bottle fell from its perch to the kitchen counter, broke into many pieces, and then hit the floor. It was the only item to fall from my open kitchen shelves (pictured at right), but it was enough to wake me up to what was really going on. I immediately know I had to find my glasses, which as per usual I was not wearing. Fortunately, they were next to me in the spot they always are when I sit at the computer, and I was level-headed enough to know that. Next, oddly enough, I thought of my disaster stash of water and food, and got up to go fetch it. That idea was dismissed as idiotic almost immediately, but as the stash is in the pantry, I found myself standing in the doorway, which I judged to be a good idea. Thinking a bit more, I decided a better place to be would be outside, as this is a very rural area and there's nothing that could fall on me out there. I think by this time the shaking had stopped, but nevertheless I went outside, grabbing my car keys (which hang on a hook by the door) on the way.

I stayed outside for a few minutes, during which Reggie (the cat), in a full-blown panic, hurled himself at one of the windows, trying to get out. I decided not to let him out, reasoning that in his agitated state he may run away and get lost. In hindsight, I'm still not sure what I should have done. Had the house collapsed with him inside, I would of course feel terrible, but I wonder what the chances of that happening would be. I certainly could not have collected him; if he got out he was going to run somewhere, fast. What would have happened then I can't say. As it was, unable to escape, Reggie ran under the bed and stayed there for about two hours. Reggie's usually "large and in charge" around here, but today he was revealed as a true "scairdy cat."

After a couple of minutes, my neighbor came out of his house and waved at me. I waved back, and walked down to talk to him. It was at this time that I realized that, not only did I not know what was going on more than 100 yards from my home, I had no good way of finding out, since I didn't think I had a working radio and in any case had no idea of the local radio frequencies. It turns out that my satellite radio has AM and FM dials, and it does pick up some stations, so I now have to make a list of the local frequencies so I know where to tune to get information when I need it.

This is an area that, I believe, is well-prepared for the Big One. This summer, the local university in conjunction with a few alphabet-soup governmental agencies published the brochure pictured above left, and it went into wide circulation. I got a copy with my local newspaper, then a second with the alternative weekly paper, and I suppose it was made available--or even force-fed--in a number of different ways as well. Plus, just a week or two ago someone in one of these papers published an op-ed about waiting for the Big One. So this is not really news to any of us, even a newbie like me.

But I'm not satisfied with my preparations, some of which I now need to re-think. There's the radio, and the cat, but also there's my emergency stash. I presently have it in my pantry, on the top shelf. Nothing happened to it today, but of course today's event was not wicked enough for me to need it. (The electricity went out but came right back on; my coffeemaker didn't even forget the time. I never lost either water or gas, both of which are local--that is, gas is in a tank outside, and water comes in pipes from a tank up the hill.) If we had a Big One, over 7.0 say, I think it's a reasonably good chance that I won't be able to get to the stash through the wreckage of the pantry. I'm not sure, however, where a better place would be, except perhaps for my car, which is likely to make it through any temblor unscathed. I'm not so sure I want to tote all that stuff around all the time, but I'll have to consider it.

I do like how easily accessible my car keys were, and that I thought of grabbing them. Around here, I could probably just leave them in the ignition, but this is next best. I didn't grab anything else, but I don't really have any "important papers"--most of my financial life exists on-line, and I have no homeowner's/renter's insurance (not offered this far from a fire station.) I might want to find a more convenient spot for my wallet, but otherwise I'm not concerned about papers.

So all in all, I think I'd give myself a 'B' for this preparedness test. And now I'm better prepared when the Big One rumbles through.

I can't say that for poor Reggie, though. I think he was eating when the quake struck, and it totally freaked him out. Now he's a little afraid to go back into that small room (the laundry room.) I hope and expect that he'll forget all about it by tomorrow.

Esq.

"Look. I practice the law. I'm not only willing but anxious to sue anyone, anytime, for anything." The Miracle of Morgan's Creek, written and directed by Preston Sturges (1944).

I Pay My Bills Online

Today's mail delivery included the following items:

1) A copy of The Battle of Chile, Patricio Guzman's three-part documentary, just released on DVD;
2) An unlooked-for check for $61.xx, evidently my proceeds from some class-action suit of which I was unaware; and
3) My credentials for admission to the State Bar of California, indicating that I have now completed all of the requirments and have only to take the attorney's oath of office.

Which of these should be the most exciting?