– by Lorne Peasland –
Most Seaside readers know Japan was hit by an enormous tsunami three years ago, on
March 11th, 2011.
What you may not know is that Sidney-by-the-Sea – 20 minutes north of Victoria – is about the same elevation as the township of Nobiru Beach, 20 minutes north of Sendai. Both were hit hard; Sendai is recovering, while Nobiru Beach no longer exists, except for the beach itself.
Could it happen here? Yes. Is it likely? Who knows? And if you think the Gulf Islands will save Sidney from the same fate, think again. Nobiru Beach has a huge seawall. Sidney doesn’t.
I saw the impact of that devastation two years after it happened. It was depressing sitting on top of that seawall – a huge mile-long concrete structure more imposing than Victoria’s breakwater – looking seaward at the idyllic islands and calm seas we see in typical photos of Japan, then turning landward to watch bulldozers and backhoes load the last of the matchstick debris of destroyed buildings and God knows what personal possessions into dump trucks.
Then it got a whole lot worse.
A woman walked slowly toward me, in 25°C heat, wearing a coat. Her arms were wrapped around herself and she shivered as she stared down at the concrete in front of her every step. She was five feet away before she noticed me.
Her head jerked up, her eyes met mine and the tears pouring down her cheeks rocketed me to my feet.
I bowed. It’s what you do in Japan.
“Sumimasen,” I said. Excuse me.
She returned the bow, as all Japanese will, but covered her face with her hands, as many do, but for other reasons.
“Did you live here?” I asked mindlessly, sweeping my arm over the empty fields full of shallow ponds of seawater and detritus.
And that’s when hell hit me with a handbasket.
The poor woman collapsed to her knees, bent forward and issued the most horrifying wail I’ve ever heard. And hope never to hear again.
What in God’s name had I done?
Then the full force of what I said slapped me upside the head, and I did something terribly un-Japanese – I knelt in front of her, raised her head and hands from the ground, kissed her forehead and put my arms around her.
“Gomen nasai,” I said. I’m sorry. “Nippon watashi dai-suki.” I love Japan.
And she sobbed. And sobbed. And I choked.
That beach was – and is – so beautiful, so pristine, with wide golden sand in an arc more than a mile long that not only beckons enjoyment, but commands it.
But enjoyment will not happen at Nobiru Beach, commanded or otherwise, for at least a generation, the woman told me when our tears stopped. There will be no new township. Instead, it will become a “national monument,” a shrine to those who will no longer dine, dance and live a delightfully pleasant life there.
I thought about that when I had lunch on the waterfront in Sidney, shortly after returning home, and asked Seaside Magazine to allow me to tell you this story because if the (so-called) “reduced effect” tsunami that hit Nobiru Beach was to hit Sidney-by-the-Sea, everything from the shoreline to the Pat Bay Highway would be flattened, every life lost. With little, if any, warning.
As you read this, I am either on my way back to Japan, or already there, to sadly pay my respects yet another time and gladly enjoy an amazing culture.
My Japanese family was asked, after we attended a tea ceremony in my honour: “Are you sure he doesn’t have any Japanese in him?”
The youngest boy was quick to reply: “He always says, ‘mata kimas,’ when he leaves. And he does.”
Yes, I will return, and not just for the tea.
