Sun Sep 13 02:42:53 HST 1992

	Everyone has been asking me "what happened". OK, here is what happened
to ME. Sorry I wasn't on Kauai; this would be a more interesting narrative
for you, and still ongoing no doubt. But I'm rather glad for myself that
it's somewhat boring...!
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	The previous week people here had been joking: there are three
Hurricane warning centers in the United States, in Miami, Guam, and
Honolulu. Miami and Guam have both been hit in the last 2 weeks. Obviously
we're due! Hah hah. Hawaii only rarely gets hurricanes; the water around
the islands is too cold to support them and the prevailing winds keep
them south. But the last week we had a real record-breaker hot humid spell.
Disgusting Houston weather, made worse by a plague of tiny black bugs that
wanted to crawl all over you reveling in your sweat. (It didn't help that
the bugs look like miniature black versions of the thing that crawled in
Chekov's ear in "The Wrath of Khan".) And the water offshore is warmer than
usual from the El Nino, just hot enough to keep hurricanes growing.

	Thursday morning we were alerted to be careful of big South swells,
caused by a hurricane passing by. Lots of people rush off to the beach to
take advantage of the waves.

	Thursday afternoon the radio started reporting that a hurricane
that had been expected to pass well to the South MIGHT turn North and pass
to the West of the islands.

	I was up late Thursday night working on a paper. Finally finished
the damn thing after months of off-again, on-again sweat, and I wanted
it to be DONE! But it had gotten too long and needed some trimming, and
that's what I was doing. Turned on the news for a break, and they were
saying that Oahu was now under a tropical storm alert. Next hour it was
a hurricane alert. Oahu could get nailed if the hurricane continued to
arc East.

	At 2AM I decided this needs to be taken seriously, so I started
a complete file backup on my system and gave John S. a call. He's a local
ham-radio fanatic whom I met through the Hawaii Astronomical Society, who's
usually up at 2AM anyway. He hadn't heard about the imminent hurricane
yet. I happened to almost be out of clean clothes (Gerard had once warned me
that after Iwa they couldn't wash for a while, and they ran out of clean
clothes) so I left a load going at John's apartment while we went out shopping
for emergency supplies: some canned goods, extra batteries, and tape.

	There were lines in the store! The big Safeway was nearly out
of batteries and tape at 2:30AM. I noticed they were also nearly emptied
of toilet paper. Only the extra-soft beautiful-pastel-prints fresh-scent
kinds were left. I did not realize people used "Just in Time" stocking
techniques for this vital necessity, but I guess many must. They were also
out of regular candles, and were now selling out of big votive candles in
glass vases with images of the Virgin and Jesus and Buddha on the front. (I
was a little surprised they didn't sell out of those *first*.) The person in
front of us in line was obviously worried: she had bought a stack of every
kind of checkout-line magazine they had: National Enquirer, Star, People,
along with some bottles of wine. The store clerk reminded her that under
Hawaii law alcohol could only be bought between 6AM and midnight and took
it back.

	I went back by my office and dropped the emergency supplies off,
and gave my mother a quick call before the long-distance lines to the
mainland filled up. (She's the worrying sort.) I told her "You haven't
heard about this yet, but a hurricane is bearing down on Honolulu. Don't
worry, I AM FINE. I am not going to try to weather the storm in my pathetic
termite-eaten $450-a-month dirt-cheap shack. I will be in my office and it
is a good place." She didn't want me to go home to sleep. I MIGHT not wake
up until I was already dead! I should be careful! I SHOULD PANIC!

	The sirens were supposed to go off at 5AM; I figured I'd let
them go off and then catch a couple hours of sleep. Unfortunately, the
sirens did NOT go off at 5AM. (I found out later they pushed the button
but nothing happened the first try.) I went to sleep anyway, only to be
rudely awakened by sirens at 5:27. I turned on the radio. All the stations
were broadcasting the same thing: "This is an Oahu Civil Defense Emergency
Broadcast System announcement. During the night hurricane Iniki has turned
towards the North. All residents of Oahu should begin taking emergency
precautions, and should prepare for evacuation if so ordered. More detailed
instructions will follow later. All off-duty hospital workers report for
work. All city, county, state, and federal offices are closed except those
needed for emergency work. All public schools of all levels are closed."
I felt sorry for all the people who were just now hearing about this.
They were going to find the stores already stripped by the night owls.

	I wandered outside. It was very strange to see every house with
its lights on an hour before sunrise. So many houses had radios playing
that you could walk down the street and hear the entire announcement without
a break. The sirens had jolted my nerves awake so I decided to just stay
up. Besides, this was sort of interesting and I didn't want to miss the
complete experience.

	My shack is a rather pathetic structure of the kind common in
Hawaii, completely termite-eaten. Putting boards over the windows would
be kind of pointless: the nails would no doubt rip out of the rotten window
frames and the boards would become just more projectiles. And what to do
about the two "windows" that consisted of permanently mounted slats of wood,
with no provision at all for closing? And I had doubts as to whether the
roof would stay on if the wind got to 100MPH. Since my possessions are few,
I just took everything of little value and wrapped them up in plastic garbage
bags. My futon I rolled up and stuffed back into the plastic bag it came
in. Most of my books were already at the office. (I've found that books left
at home tend to get eaten. The bugs are gourmets: they like to drill holes
perpendicularly through the book from cover to cover so they can get a taste
of every page. Not to mention the time I discovered a very poisonous centipede
in the shower while bathing... but I digress.) Fortunately the trash men
arrived just as I was trying to figure out what to do about the mountain
of stinking trash left there by the next-door neighbors. The trash cans
I put in the crawlspace under my apartment, lest they become missiles.

	There! I may become homeless, but my stuff ought to survive!
I figured my bike could ride out the storm well enough at home.

	Outside the Bul-buls, Mejiros, and Zebra Doves were all making their
normal sunrise noises. They obviously didn't know what was coming. The poor,
ignorant beasts! Certainly there wasn't any hint of catastrophe in the air;
just the abnormal heat and humidity coupled with wind from an unusual
direction, the SouthEast. It wasn't even raining. I could just imagine
the day after the catastrophe how the birds would be muttering to themselves:
"Those humans were acting peculiarly yesterday! They were all up before sunrise,
and seemed so agitated. I didn't pay it any attention at the time, of course.
They get excited about all sorts of stupid things. But now I remember that
they were all outside their nests putting X's in the windows. Very strange.
And they mobbed those special places they have for gathering food... and they
never do that at sunrise. Their fast-but-don't-fly death projectiles were
undangerous, chirping and unmoving in lines all around the food places.
Those humans must have a special sense about the weather that we birds lack.
If only we could understand how they do it."

	I drove to the UH parking structure to hide my car deep in its
guts. They had a guard manning a barricade blocking it off. "No work today!
Go back home and get ready for hurricane!" "My computer in my office is a
lot more important than anything at home, and I figure my car is a lot safer
in the parking structure than on the street. Can I just leave it here?" "Sounds
reasonable to me, go ahead."

	Over at HIG everyone was gathered around the meteorology department
offices on the 3rd floor. The meteorology profs had just escaped from the
newspeople, who had woken them up at home at 4AM, and were examining the
real-time weather satellite images as they came in. They were dark and hard
to interpret because of the dim dawn sunlight and the difficult perspective on
the islands which are near the limb of the Earth as seen from the satellite's
location. The meteorologists were playing connect-the-dots with a felt tip
pen on the monitor screen, tracking the eye. Every now and then they'd give
impromptu lectures to the students eagerly gathered around, and complain to
each other about how pathetic it was to have to track a hurricane bearing down
on a major population center with such imprecise tools. The interpreted maps
showing air flow, sea surface temperature, etc, from Miami were all several
hours old. What are they doing over there, taking a vacation?

	Why don't we use our own weather radar to track it, I ask? What a
stupid question! _WHAT_ weather radar?! Hawaii DOESN'T HAVE ANY WEATHER RADAR.
In the late 90's (or so) Hawaii is supposed to get the fabled NEXRAD system....
the NEXt generation RADar, which will do all things for all people (but only
if you BELIEVE and CLAP YOUR HANDS.) And why install anything now when NEXRAD
is coming?

	First they thought Niihau was going to get it. "Pele's revenge for
the haole owners of a Hawaiian island suspended in the 19th century." Later
the dots started lining up somewhat to the EAST of Kauai, in the channel
between Kauai and Oahu.   Uh     Oh     ...      Well it's hard to tell,
maybe just the eye cycloiding around... it's probably still actually heading
due North, towards Kauai.... At that point one of the profs says "It's enough
for me! I'm going home to batten down! Good luck. BYE!"

	Can't do any work... they've pulled the plug on the computer network.
I reboot my sun single user but decide I'm not really in the mood to work
today after all. I decide to go home and rescue my bicycle. On the way out
I notice a visiting professor from Japan sitting in his office, working
as usual. I knock on the glass and indicate to him in slow, simple English
(with hand gestures) that the building is empty because a hurricane is coming.
He says he heard sirens but ignored them.

	While I'm biking back to the office at 11AM or so the sirens go off
again, to announce where emergency shelters have been set up. I hear the
message pouring out of every radio in every home: Everyone in tsunami
inundation areas (listed in your phone book) must move inland, or into
3rd floors or higher. You are not allowed to take pets to shelters. Leave
them locked in cars, or leave them inside apartments. Do not tie them down.
Especially do not leave animals tethered outside. Make sure they have
name tags and addresses firmly attached.

	It starts to rain, then to blow. Then it begins to blow harder. The
radio says Oahu is expecting 100MPH winds within 5 hours. DO NOT PANIC...
there is still plenty of time to get ready. Do not do anything stupid.
Take a deep breath and collect your thoughts before acting. But get ready.
NOW. Thinking of Homestead, Florida, I get back to the office and start
taping up my office windows, and moving books and computer further inside.
The birds outside my office start making distress noises.

	John calls. As an official ham "RACES" operator, he's supposed to go
help the Civil Defense with communications during emergencies. Do I want to
go help him by playing gopher? Sure, sounds interesting! While I wait
I watch a reporter talking on TV live from Civil Defense. John arrives. We
drive over to downtown, dodging the fallen palm branches lying everywhere, and
trying not to be thrown out of our lane by the wind. Most stop lights are out.
The mayor is being interviewed outside --- I notice he's picked an especially
windy spot next to the building, so the wind can impressively blow through his
hair for good effect on TV (elections are just a month away, after all).
We go down into the basement to report for work. It's easy to see where to go:
just follow the hundred-yard-long cables snaking down the stairwells from the
news trucks parked outside.

	The tiny room is swarming with people. We are forced to bump into
the very reporter I had just seen on the TV in my office; he's still talking.
(I resist the urge to wave to the viewers at home.) There is a BIG WHITE BUTTON
on a desk marked "master siren control". On the walls are all sorts of maps.
All around the room are consoles, with people talking into mikes and listening
to headphones. We find the right one who is sitting there not doing anything,
and introduce ourselves. WHAT? HAM RADIO OPERATORS? We don't know what to do
with you! Very noble thought, and all that, and I suppose we ARE _supposed_ to
be making use of you guys like that...  but we're not going to. We're too busy.
I suppose we may need you after the storm... go wait somewhere out of the way.
We'll call on the radio if we need you.

	I suggest we go back to HIG. On the way I notice all the high-rises
are decorated as if for anti-christmas. Instead of colorful lights and season's
greetings, there are big X's in every window. Some heretics prefer plus signs,
others asterisks, and a few carefully laid out grid patterns at various
orientations. Quite a few optimists (or absentees) have done nothing at all.

	Upon arrival we find that half the offices in HIG have people in
them who have decided it's a better place than home to ride out the storm.
It's a veritable hurricane party. We set up in the terminal room with food,
sleeping bags, boom box, ham radios, and TV. We make occasional trips to
the third floor for real-time analysis of the storm's path from our very
own staff of meteorologists. Meanwhile John monitors the ham radio bands
for reports. Since we expect the power to go out I try to eat all the
perishable food I rescued from my refrigerator at home: milk, chocolate milk,
and 3-day-old Kentucky Fried Popcorn Chicken. (Is there any chicken in
there? It seems to just be grease and breading.)

	Outside its blowing, but nothing really serious. Doesn't even rain
much. It's as if a stage were set for some dramatic show, but when the time
came for the climactic third act all the actors just got tired and went home
instead. Our personal weather staff says it's going to mostly miss Oahu...
It will pass about 100 miles away. The eye is contracting, the hurricane is
spinning up....  which is slightly better for us, a good way away from the
center, and a lot lot worse for Kauai which is now dead in the path. They
say "The pictures from Kauai tomorrow are going to be very tragic. This
hurricane has winds twice as strong as Hurricane Iwa ten years ago did,
and energy (and damage) goes as velocity squared. And the buildings in Kauai
are built like crap. This is going to make Iwa look like a cakewalk."

	The eye passes by us to the West while we watch the Leeward coast
being pounded by waves on TV. Someone says "now's when we get to laugh at
all the rich people with their expensive beach-front homes". The weather
analysis and photos on TV run about 30 to 45 minutes older than the ones
from the 3rd floor, so we pretty much ignore that. The TV reports that all
communication has been lost with Kauai, _nobody_ knows what is happening
there. The _civil defense_ doesn't even know.

	Meanwhile we listen to ham radio operators on Kauai --- they say
things like "waves are breaking over the breakwater in the harbor, boats
are being tossed everywhere" "major structural damage is now occurring
in Lihue". We also hear hams on Oahu report that three waterspouts are
dancing around just off the North shore. Hams on Maui report that the wharf
area in Lahaina is taking severe damage.

	Just for fun I tune to WWVH, at Kokee, Kauai, which is centered just
about smack under the eye of the hurricane with 160 MPH winds at this time.
Still broadcasting: "at the tone, the time will be..."

	Shortly after the eye leaves Kauai, we hear a Kauai ham asking
for somebody on Oahu to get the governor on the phone; they've got the
"mayor of Lihue" and she wants to talk to him. We go outside and sit at
a picnic table for better reception. It's stopped raining; the sun is even
starting to peek out. After a while Governor Waihee gets on the line...
he says "Hi. What's up?" The mayor of Kauai county says "how is Oahu? Did
you get severe damage?" "No, just a little. How are you?" "It is absolute
chaos here. The air is full of stuff being blown horizontally. Part of the
roof of our civil defense building has come off. Our entire phone system is
down because of broken phone poles. We need generators, communications,
everything you can send us. This is the worst disaster in Hawaii's history.
We need you to call the president to declare our county a disaster area
immediately. We've already started the paperwork here." "We'll start it
here. OK."

	We go back and confer with the meteorologists on the third floor.
Everyone is packing up and going home; we've missed it. The official all clear
comes at 5PM. On the TV they are still saying "we have had absolutely no word
from Kauai since 1PM. Neither does the Oahu civil defense. We, like you, can
only guess what is happening there..."

	I yell at the TV "speak for yourself!"

	I go home, unpack my futon, and collapse into it. I feel a bit like
a fool. Stay up all night preparing, just to take it all apart again a few
hours later. Didn't even lose electric power. On the other hand ---- but for
the whim of a few winds steering a gigantic storm, I could be camping out in
my office for the next month, Homestead (and now Kauai) style, with roads all
clogged, everything closed, no power, no phone, NO WATER, many possessions
wrecked... I guess I'm sort of glad I got to experience a hurricane, but this
one was big enough that I'm also quite glad it didn't nail _me_.

	Ham radio reports filtering back from Kauai speak of incredible
devastation. One ham reports "I'm living at my neighbor's; his house survived
the collision with my house's roof." 90% of all phone/power poles are snapped
off and blown away. One month, minimum, until most parts of the island have
power again. John is busy now calling people on the mainland and elsewhere in
Hawaii with messages from relatives on Kauai.

	Do you think Bush will fly out to Kauai like he did Florida? Not
very likely ---- Hawaii's a democratic machine state with only 4 votes in
the electoral college. My guess is that Bush is lacking enough in "the vision
thing" to appreciate the long-term benefits. By _not_ visiting he's making
absolutely _sure_ that Hawaii's going to stay solidly democratic for some time
more to come.

	Well, I've got _work_ to be getting back to. Speaking of which...