Throughout the early morning hours a shrill tsunami siren pierced the hour. Five, six, seven, and I notice i am afraid to get up. Dan says he needs to fill the car's tank with gasoline. This triggers some innate survival response. We make coffee and turn the TV on to the news.We fill all available containers with water and I boil up what little brown rice pasta we have, anticipating a loss of power. The television reporters are watching Hilo harbor for the first signs of approaching water.
The Cliffs are silent, a still and frightened hush. As we watch, afraid to leave our unit, the nervous energy rises outside. We hear folks churning about, settling at the ocean's edge on lawn chairs. . . .



After three hours we venture into the gathering crowd. It is almost carnival like! Such a gathering: all these people home for the day. (The roads were closed, and we were instructed to stay put!) At the pool, folding chairs lined the perimeter. Standing room only~


By two thirty the warning is lifted. Dan couldn't wait to get to Anini Beach. It was a swift transition to reclaiming the beaches in an easy trusting way.
For dinner we grilled Shutome and a rib eye steak. Just trying to eat up all the leftovers before we pack it up in the morning.