Earthquake Report, Day 13 (March 6)
Why This Report Is Late:
Yesterday I promised this earthquake report either late yesterday or ‘early’ today and at early afternoon it definitely ain’t early in the day… So what happened?
Firstly, the weather forecast yesterday promised rain, so as soon as I posted the book draw and launch-a-thon results I headed out, despite wind and dust, to try and clear what silt I could from the on-street drains—another 4-hour digging stint. This time I was on my own as well, which always makes the job feel a bit tougher, and needless to say I was exhausted at the end of it—but got the opportunity to head across town to a friend’s place and do laundry, and so ‘seized the day.’ But by the time all that was done, there was no time—or, if I am honest, energy—for blog posts.
I am glad that I did the work though, because I pulled out a lot more silt as well as clearing several small “dams” caused by blown newspaper and other rubbish, and when I checked the morning (because it has been raining) the water on the street at least was flowing. This is the situation we are in now: without rain, we get the constant blowing dust and the sort of storms we got last Wednesday (when, as my brother said: ‘I saw the pictures on line and Christchurch looked like the Sahara’); with rain the dust is damped down, but with the stormwater pipes silted up presents a very real risk of surface flooding—and because of the liquefaction, subsidence as well. Fortunately the rain has been light and intermittent, so we’ll probably be ok.
The other reason why this post is late is because we had another swarm of aftershocks yesterday and two of them were 4 pointers, 4.1 and 4.8 respectively, and on top of the baseline of existing damage, of course have done more. Power went off briefly after the 4.8 and a few more things got shaken down so there has been a little bit of tidy up to be done this morning. That is a thing I know I definitely did not appreciate prior to September 4—and now February 22 has just underlined the point—which is that an event of this kind is not just the one quake and then it’s over. There are swarms of aftershocks, some of them quite large in their own right: close to 5000 between September 4 and February 22, and another 410 approximately since then. And each aftershock of any magnitude worsens the existing damage. You get more cracks in walls, or existing cracks widen and/or lengthen, and houses that are already off their foundations get shaken a little further “off-centre.
Our Situation:
In terms of our personal situation, we are still without sewer and may yet be for some time, but we have power and tap water that is usable so long as we boil it. An update on our house as of Friday—we were visited by a council building assessment team—is that I was right to think the damage moderate, but also that there is some risk associated with our remaining chimney stack, as well as compromised bracing in one room. So both those areas will need to be addressed as soon as possible, which still leaves us somewhere far down a very long list, I imagine … But so far, it’s still weathertight and livable so we still consider (know!) ourselves to be well off compared to many.
The Trip Across Town:
The laundry run last night was the first time I have left the immediate area since February. I haven’t had a car and it’s been pretty tough getting around on foot, because of all the dust and congestion on the roads that have been open, as well as having to dodge emergency repair works everywhere—either that or get in the way of the teams doing stuff that matters, which is not “the go” in my book. Even if I had the car, the Civil Defence authorities have been asking people to stick to essential trips, so I wouldn’t have been going far anyway. But this is the first time I’ve gotten much visibility of the larger picture, with the roads buckled and mounded in many places and a large number of collapsed buildings. I knew all this anyway, from the news reports, but last night’s drive certainly brought home that the city I knew before February 22nd is going to be in large part gone forever. It’s not just the big landmark buildings, it’s all the little street corners and pockets of character, too.
One major landmark building that is definitely going is the Lyttelton Timeball Station. It is a Category 1 Registered Historic Place and internationally significant because of its rarity, but has been so badly damaged by the February 22nd earthquake that it has to be demolished. The official notice on the NZ Historic Places Trust site is here.
I actually saw in the New Year for 1 January 2000, the first day of the new millenium, at the Lyttelton Timeball Station and composed this little poem on the occasion. I’ve never put it ‘out there’ before, because the “break break break” beginning is too strong an echo of Tennyson’s poem of the same name—but at the time it was a tribute to one of the great poets of the previous millenium and “worked” in the context of a verse that I made up “on the spot” for the group of friends that I was with. I also note that the bird call and the welcome to the world of light is an element in many traditional Maori waiata.
Despite these limitations, I am still going to leave you with this poem for today, both because of its strong association with, and as my personal commemoration of, this wonderful building—but also because it speaks of hope for the future, which is something I feel we all need to look toward now in Christchurch, even as we mourn all that has been lost.
Millenium
1 January 2000
Break
Break
Break
New dawn
New day
New millennium
The weight of a thousand years
Dissolves, lifts, rolls away,
like a mist on the face
of the sea, when the sun
comes up, rejoicing.
The bird calls,
out of darkness – welcome:
welcome to the world of light.
It is the world new made,
a world made for living in,
and the bird calls
with the voice of morning:
Ka marama – it is the Dawn.
Ka awatea – it is Day.
by Helen Lowe
That poem is perfect, and heartbreaking. It really is something when you get to see the rest of the town, isn’t it? There’s a very definite difference as you go from West to East. You’re very close to the “mega-munted” side of town. Definitely in the “moderately-munted” area.
The loss of the Timeball really upset me too. I’ve meant to go for years and never gotten there. The one time I tried, it was closed. But, I lived around Lyttelton for several years and got very used to seeing that building on the horizon. Lyttelton has changed forever, not just Christchurch.
I’m sorry to hear you had to get digging again. Honestly, that horrible sand is never ending!
Definitely “moderately” munted, but not “mega”—although moderately is quite bad enough, thank you!
And the horrible sand is never ending—and of course it gets washed down into the drains, which are the lowest point, as does everything else. The upper end of the street is much worse though, the pavement buckled and holed and deep in mud everywhere.
The Timeball Station is a great sadness, but there is so much sadness at a time like this—we have lost people, landmarks, cultural reference points. My deep hope is that what we build new is something at least as worthwhile as what we have lost, if not more so.
I love this poem. I shall link to it for my mother, I think she’d greatly appreciate.
Hang in there with those aftershocks… wearing and stressful, to say the least. Who’d have thought ChCh would start to resemble the Sahara…
Mary, Thank you for loving the poem and sending the link to your mother. The shocks are stressful, but you’ve just got to try and stay positive and focused on “the moment” rather than worrying about what ‘might’ happen next—although it’s hard not to, sometimes.:) Re the Sahara analogy, I understand Christchurch did use to suffer bad dust/dirt storms in the 1950s and into the ’60s (when the nor’west blew, of course!) before the Catchment Boards actively promoted soil conservation across the plains—so perhaps it’s a case of “back to the future?”
Helen, I was speechless after reading this. Mary is right about my reaction, but appreciation was the wrong word for it. Not just because of the haunting way you have echoed Tennyson and that era of conscious hope to which he bore witness, but because of the poignant new meaning you have given those first words, in light of all that you are going through now, in the context of all the loss and pain and upheaval being experienced by the inhabitants of Christchurch. What a bearing witness it is, what an affirmation of the human spirit. It is so humbling. After your descriptions of your house and of the devastated city, my heart broke too on reading this poem. I wanted to tell you that your description is not true to Christchurch only. This earthquake, it seems to me, is universal; the upheaval, the confusion, the chaos of civic collapse, is global. And we must all rake up the sand and clear the streets and boil the water with you, despite inadequate means and continuing aftershocks. We must all pick up the pieces together in Christchurch, and in Tahrir Square, and in Tripoli, and start again. And again. And repeatedly again. Your consciousness proves it is a new day for us all. But your courage is hard to emulate. Thank you for this post. Thank you for this testimony.
Thank you for your very positive response to the poem and also your fellow feeling for Christchurch. I agree with the universality: it is our experience but it is also human experience. I still feel that John Donne epitomised this universality in the famous excerpt from his Meditation XVII:
“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main … any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
love the poem. losing the historical building is heartbreaking. Sorry. Looking for a silver lining here…all this digging has got to be getting you in good shape .
You’re so right, Sharon—digging makes for a much ‘leaner, meaner’ Helen than writing! 😉 But in my talk with the fates I’m saying, “You know, maybe next time I could just join a gym or something …”:)