ANUJ SAHAI
Staff Writer
Photo courtesy of Anuj Sahai
As you know we have been through and lived out one of the worst disasters in history. My way of dealing with this trauma is to tell everybody about our experience, and thus erase the shock and sadness of it. We thank all our friends who called and prayed for us, and supported Anuj, whilst he waited in Long Island, for news from us.
We (Anil, Sudha, Achal and Rohan) arrived in Phuket on Dec. 25 in the evening and checked into our beachfront hotel and rooms. On the morning of the 26th, I got up early and enjoyed the brilliant sunshine, but noticed that it was very windy. The palm trees on our large resort were swaying and swishing. Since we had been traveling and sightseeing in Cambodia and Myanmar for the past two weeks, I was looking forward to just chilling out and enjoying the warm crystal clear water of the Andaman Sea.
We had spent the afternoon of Dec. 25 on the beach, and Anil said that day (Dec. 26) he would rather sit on one of the hundreds of chaise loungers scattered around the pools and gardens. This would be cooler as we had the shade of the palm trees. I went early and set up our beach towels on the first row of chaises facing the beach, about 20 meters (60 ft.), from the sea and about three meters (10 ft.) higher than sea level. The pool area where we were seated consisted of bilevels of pools, gardens, restaurants, outdoor bars and extended at least 250 meters across and 20 meters deep. At the end of the recreational area were the ground floor rooms. Our hotel was three stories high. So, the rooms were about 40 meters (120 ft.) away from the sea and about five meters higher than sea level.
We had breakfast and then seated ourselves on our loungers at about 9:15 a.m. I walked over to the lobby to see if we could extend our stay at the hotel by a night.
Rohan decided to go in for a swim. Rohan said, “Mom, I was swimming and the water was disappearing under me. The further I swam out, I found that I was grazing the sand bar. Finally, I gave up and headed back to the pool. As I climbed the sand to our pool area, I shouted out to Achal, that something weird was going on. I had noticed some fish flapping around, caught in the same waterless sea. As I talked to Achal, he shouted back, ‘Shit, Oh my God’ and I looked back to see the sea coming at me, so I ran up to the pool.”
Achal, Anil and Rohan watched along with other guests as the sea came up to the embankment and then receded, carrying with it EVERY OBJECT — beach chairs, cabanas, umbrellas, people on the beach — with an unbelievable and unimaginable force. We saw broken bits of furniture floating at least 500 meters out to sea.
I was in the lobby talking to the front desk, when I saw everybody rushing out to the sea. I ran too, and watched in horror as the water flooded the lobby, which was about one meter lower than the pool area. I took off my shoes, hitched up my beach dress and waded toward the pool area. Everybody was walking around dazed, wondering what was going on. Achal insisted that we head back, so we ran back to the far wall, next to our rooms. We had barely made it back and then the next wave came. This time the whole ground floor of the hotel grounds was flooded with this wall of water. There was utter pandemonium, as people were smashed against the walls, tables, chairs, umbrellas, restaurant furniture, and other moving objects were swept away. All the outdoor structures started collapsing like matchsticks. When this wave receded, we ran up to our room on the first floor and watched the next one come. This one came with such force. It went into the ground floor of the hotel, under us. We heard screams and shouts. Bloodied people were running about shrieking. A large 30-foot cabana on the garden came crashing down with the water. We knew we could only survive this if we were on higher ground. I yelled to the kids to pack, and we ran down the stairs with our bags, as this third wave receded. I saw people being carried on broken doors by their families. A lady was being supported as she walked slowly down the corridor and I remember thinking to myself — “She is covered with Ketchup from head to toe.” Anil tried to see what was happening to the large boat anchored in our bay.
The ground floor was flooded and we had to wade through waist high waters as we ran up the mountain. The water was full of floating debris. There were others running too. Most people were in their beach clothes. We seemed to be the only ones who had our small bags held chest high or, as in my case, on my head. This last wave had completely annihilated the ground floor, injuring people who had not run for cover. I saw people on makeshift stretchers and women bloodied by moving objects. The Swedish woman next to me was sobbing as she had seen a mother look for her babies who were swept away.
We arrived on a hilltop and waited along with other tourists and hotel employees. From the first wave till now, it seemed like a lifetime, but only 20 to 30 minutes had elapsed. Some people were saying that they had felt tremors at about 8 a.m. and there was talk about an earthquake in Indonesia, but nobody was sure of the cause of this tsunami. We did realize that this was a giant tsunami. The bizarre part was that I never once saw a wave. The water was calm and blue. The sun was shining and the weather was perfect.
I decided to leave Phuket, as it was clear that we would have to stay in the mountains if we could not get out of Phuket. I made two calls from Anil’s world phone. I called Anuj and told him we had been hit by a tsunami. He was stunned as I told him to note down our safe deposit and will information. I was sobbing whilst I told him I loved him, and would call him as soon as we were out of danger.
I called the hotel in Krabi, where we were moving in, the following day, and they informed us that the roads were clear and their hotel was unaffected. I was able to convince a cab driver to take us to Krabi, which was about 3.5 hours south, on the mainland. Little did we know that we were heading to the worst hit province of Phang Na.
I was praying in the cab, as we rode out of Phuket, preparing for hours on the road, as I thought we would be part of a caravan of cars, fleeing out.
To my surprise, we sailed out of Phuket. The main artery that took us north was in the highlands, so it was clear. We noticed ambulances and some roadblocks, and roads lined with several hundred people, but no damage or flooding as in Kata.
When we arrived at our hotel in Krabi, the manager was shocked to see us as he had heard that the Sarsirin Bridge, the only way in and out of Phuket, had collapsed.
The next two nights were at our hotel in Krabi, exchanging stories with others who had seen and experienced worse or similar fates as ours. There was no one who had survived unscathed in the water. They all said that Rohan had a second birthday on Dec. 26. The hotel residents had been on a neighboring island called Hong Island. The ones in the water had been lifted and flung up to 200 meters away on rocks or trees. Some had lived and been rescued, and others had died of injuries or been swept away.
The scene by this beautiful hotel pool was bizarre. Women were crying and sobbing quietly as their children swam nearby. I went out of my hotel room the next morning, only to hear a neighbor sobbing hysterically. As I comforted her, she babbled her story through hysterical tears. She had seen a woman flung next to her with a broken skull. Her brain came out and she died in her arms as she was resuscitating her. There was a baby who she brought back to the hotel. They were trying to return the child to its parents. There were so many holiday-makers who left without family members.
We feel very fortunate and lucky. God has been kind to us and blessed us, and we are happy to be alive and home.
We spent another night in Bangkok and waited for planes to take us back home, earlier than our planned itineraries. I feel that we were destined to see the mighty tsunami and live to tell the tale.
01-13-2005
