Having packed my gear earlier – at 3am – while watching the tsunami sputter into Hawaii, I wasn’t too hopeful that anything of even minor significance would occur Pacific Grove. I loaded my gear into the truck, made a U-turn in the road in front of our house, and headed for the coastline four blocks down. I could already see someone in a flourescent vest at the intersection at Lighthouse Avenue, and a road block another three blocks down at the intersection of Ocean View Boulavard. I ignored the person in the vest and drove down to the road block, parking as close as I could. I walked the rest of the way.
Hawaii had been ‘slammed’ earlier by a tidal surge at Waikiki Beach of one and a half feet. Newspapers like to use the word slammed whether something was actually slammed or not. I slung my backpack over one shoulder, teetered my tripod on the other, and rolled my eyes at all of the road bocks, yellow tape blocking the walkways, and the police car in the empty parking lot driving in circles and figure-eights as if he were trying to corral an invisible, runaway cow.
I made a right at the road block and walked in the direction of the Monterey Bay Aquarium, crossed the street, stepped over some yellow tape, and tried to decide where I want to shoot from. Now 07:30, NOAA had predicted the tsunami to reach Monterey Bay at 07:44. My original plan was to point my camera at Hopkins Marine Laboratory (they always had great waves), but the sun was so low and bright that it was impossible to see anything in that direction.
I turned 180 degrees and decided a shot of the cove might give me the best chance of documenting something if it were to occur at all. I was skeptical of seeing any surge, but I might get to witness a tidal retreat. I set up the tripod, locked down the camera (a 5D MkII: half still, half video hybrid) into the head, focused on my area of interest and waited.
There were a few other people lining the road, leaning on the post and rail fence with their cups of coffee or talking on their cell phones, also waiting. I grabbed a few shots of the small crowd and of the city fire trucks running back and forth wasting gas looking to rescue someone from an event that was never going to materialize. Didn’t anyone watch the news from Hawaii?
The waves seemed normal, but suddenly, at 07:45, the ocean seemed flattened out and got very quiet. I turned on the 5D and started recording video and just let it run on without me. I held my breath in anticipation of something about to happen and then remembered that this was the same non-wave behavior I get when I’m trying to purposely photograph waves. As soon as I raise my camera, they flatten out, just like what was happening, and they stay flat until I put my camera down and walk away. If my wife had been with me, I’d turn to her an shake my head in disbelief. She’d laugh knowingly.
I glanced at my watch for the fifteenth. 07:46 came and went, as did 07:50 and 07:55. I looked down at the video counter and stopped the recording. Nothing was happening and I already had 10 minutes of footage on the card. Nice wave action in the morning sun, but not what I came for. I flicked through the camera menus and formatted the card. If something were to really happen, I would need all the card space I could get.
I took turns looking at the people lining the road and the cove trying to gauge whether anybody had locked in on something I should have noticed. Some of the people who had patiently waited earlier were beginning to filter away. Maybe something ‘was’ actually happening, but so slowly I just couldn’t see it. Were all those rocks showing when I got here? Is the water level really getting lower or was I just imagining it?
I started recording again and stood off to snap a few stills with the second camera. 08:02. I’ll let the video run on from here. Might as well fill the card and grab a few still images.
At 08:24 I stopped recording and thought the water actually looked higher than when I had arrived. Higher, lower, flatter, rockier. I packed my gear and headed for home. I’d let the computer and and the magic of fast forward show me whether my hopefulness was just a product of wishful thinking.
Playing back the footage at 3 times normal, it was readily apparent that something had occurred. I’m not an expert on tides, but in my limited knowledge, I would say that we went from a normal tide to a low tide to a higher than normal tide in the the space of 18 minutes. Something that would normally take 12 hours.
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