Arts & Entertainment Kuana’ike (Perspective) Published 10 months ago - Staff Writer By Sarah St Pierre, Staff WriterMy eyes opened wide as I was abruptly woken from my deep slumber. The sound ofsirens blasted through my eardrums, but I barely recognized the noise. It didn’t sound like anormal fire alarm or a police car or even a fire truck. The sound was deafening, scary andoverwhelming. My heart started to beat faster. Panic set in.I was ripped out from the white cotton sheets I laid under. Suddenly, I was standing therein my turtle pajamas staring blankly at my mother, who was promptly packing a small duffle bagfull of clothes for my little sister and me.I glanced toward the windows. The curtain was slightly open, revealing the pale blue skyand an early morning haze. The sun peaked out ever so slightly behind the ocean. It wasreflecting an orange glow onto the transparent turquoise waters in front of it. The Marriott thatwe stayed at was directly on the ocean, which made for the most breathtaking morning view.“Hurry up and get dressed, we need to leave as soon as possible,” Mom said in a soft,seemingly unconcerned voice. She didn’t want to worry me.I looked at the clock that read 6:02 A.M. I was confused, but oddly intrigued by what wasgoing on. I had experienced the sudden fear of an accidental fire alarm going off in the middle ofthe night when Mom accidentally burned muffins or the time Dad cooked his popcorn a bit toolong, but never anything quite like this.The sound began to overwhelm me. We get it, we need to evacuate. Can’t you just turnoff the alarms already? I thought to myself. I covered my ears for the next several minutes, onlytaking my hands down for the brief moment it took me to get my clothes on. I grabbed my newpurple sweatshirt that I had just got a few days earlier and my ladybug pillow pet before headingto the car. It felt as if we were in that hotel room with the alarm going off for at least twentyminutes, but the clock on the car dashboard said otherwise. The numbers 6:11 A.M. stared backat me. Am I dreaming? I asked myself. I felt dazed and delusional. I rested my head on mygrandma’s shoulder and fell into a deep sleep.The year was 2010 and my family and I were vacationing in Kauai, Hawaii. We had atwo-week time share at the Kauai Lagoons Marriott where we would spend every February breakwith my grandparents. This was our sixth time going, and this was a vacation quite differentfrom the rest.“Good morning numba one,” Papa said to me, with a soft smile on his face. I was his firstgrandchild so fittingly; this was his nickname for me. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking severaltimes before fully opening them. Why am I in the car? I wondered.“Hi Papa,” I said, “Where are we?”“We’re at Waimea Canyon State Park. We had to get to a place of high elevation. Thereare big waves right now in the ocean, and we had to get up higher than they are,” he explained.This was a more simplified version of what was actually going on because he had to explain it ina way my 9-year-old brain could understand.I remembered the loud alarms we had heard much earlier that morning, and once Iconnected that to the fact that we were hours away from our hotel room, I knew something waswrong.Tsunamis are not a huge threat to the Hawaiian Islands; however, some sources say that atsunami will strike the Hawaiian Islands on the average of once every twelve years. The mostdevastating tsunami occurred in Hawaii in 1946, with the last tsunami being in 1975 soaccording to earlier patterns, they were due for another. A few hours had passed since I woke up in the car on the top of a canyon. My little sisterand I sat outside the car, tossing breadcrumbs to the chickens running around outside.“When are we going back to the hotel?” She asked me. “I just want to go swimming!!”“I don’t know,” I replied, beginning to wonder how long it had even been. My concept oftime was completely thrown off.Dad and Papa were leaning against the car just a few feet from us. I got up to go and siton the edge of the inside of the van. My feet dangled below me. I stared at my purple crocs andlistened to everything going on around me. Dad leaned in through the car window and turned upthe radio. We had it playing the news so we could stay up to date with what was going on.“At 6 A.M. this morning, evacuation warnings went out in Hawaii’s most vulnerablecoastal regions, as the island braced itself for what federal officials said could be a dangeroustsunami. Officials warned that the hardest-affected locations could have waves that reach 6 to 10feet high. The tsunami will first impact Hilo Bay on Hawaii Island at 11:05 a.m., Honolulu at11:37 a.m., and Kauai at 11:42 a.m. as it moves up the island chain.,” the news reporter said.10 feet? That’s like three of me… I thought to myself. I wasn’t scared because I honestlyhad no idea what was going on. But I felt like I needed to be scared.I looked behind me into the car at Meme sitting in the back seat. There were sweatshirtsdraped over the windows to keep the sun out. She was sitting back there alone, knitting a pinkscarf. She was quiet and kept to herself in that moment and something inside me was telling methat she was extremely afraid.When I was very young, about 5 or 6, Mom used to take me over to Meme and Papa’shouse to go swimming. They had an above ground pool that was 3-feet in the shallow end andreached just about 6-feet in the deep end. Meme loved to come in the pool to play with me, but there were restrictions. She never went in the pool without her pool noodle, and she never went into the deep end.“Why do you need that floatie?” I would always ask her.“Because, silly Meme doesn’t know how to swim,” she would say, laughing afterwards.Not only did she not know how to swim, but she was terrified of it. She hated going in deeperthan her waistline and if the noodle ever slipped out from beneath her, she would screech andpanic and flail her arms every which way. I asked her about her fear every now and then. Heranswer was always simple: she never learned to swim so she was convinced she was going todrown, and drowning was her biggest fear.I thought about Meme’s fear of water and then I thought about those giant 10-foot wavescrashing over all of us. This was her biggest fear coming to life.I saw Dad now in the distance. He was standing at the edge of the canyon looking out atthe Hawaiian abyss. He had been awfully relaxed all day, but looking back now I realize that hewas likely putting up a front for my sisters and me.I sprinted over to him, grabbing his hand once I reached him. The top of the canyon wasflat and covered in trees. There were railings surrounding the entire perimeter to prohibit touristsfrom going too close to the edge. The view was stunning. The landscape was filled with brilliantshades of green, blue, and brown. There was a waterfall in the near distance that caught my eye.It was heavenly looking, aquarium blue in color, and it glided effortlessly down the edge of thecanyon. It was absolutely mind blowing for a nine-year-old girl to see something so surreal.I looked down from where we were standing and realized just how high up we actuallywere. My heart skipped a beat. I was terrified of heights. I squeezed Dad’s hand a little tighterand he looked down, his icy blue eyes staring back at me. “Look down there,” he said, pointing at a small area where the ocean met the edge of thecanyon. It seemed like it was miles and miles away. “You can see the waves crashing right downthere. See it’s not so scary, those waves are so small, even smaller than you!”I giggled and felt a sense of ease settle through my body. Those waves did appear to besmaller than me from all the way up here, whether they were or not. I was still scared of whatmight happen, but I knew we were safe up on that canyon top. I went back towards the vanwhere Meme still sat in the back seat, knitting away. I grabbed her hand and asked her to comewith me to see something. I took her to the edge of the canyon and pointed to the small wavescrashing down below.“Look, they’re smaller than me!” I shouted. She laughed and said, “oh yes my love, theysure are.” I hugged her tight and we stood there for a moment longer.Later that day, state officials told us that it was safe to return to the main part of theisland. What people had feared would be yet another catastrophic tsunami, was just slightlyerratic surges in the sea.The tsunami warnings that day had come from an 8.8-magnitude earthquake that struckChile. In 1946, a mysterious tsunami hit the shores of Hawaii killing 159 people and causing 26million dollars in damage. An earthquake in Alaska that had a magnitude of 7.1 was the cause ofthis calamity. Based on scientific theories, that earthquake should not have caused such adevastating Pacific-wide tsunami. Some scientists believe that the earthquake was actually largerthan the instrumentation of the day could measure. When the sirens sounded on that peacefulSaturday morning in 2010, the island had been filled with great panic. Because of the mysterythat came from the tsunami of 1946, no one knew what would happen.On the way home, I rested my head on Meme’s shoulder once more. I closed my eyesand thought about the ocean waves. I thought about how tall ten feet was, yet how small they looked crashing against the sand at the bottom of the canyon. It was interesting how changing theperspective of something, completely changed my fear of it. I wondered if Meme had changedher perspective on drowning; maybe then she’d have learned how to swim. 11 recommended Share ShareTweetSharePin it