Rogue Wave

Chapter 17

Because of the Memorial Day holiday, only three people staffed Hawaii Civil Defense: Brian Renfro, the duty officer in charge, Michelle Rankin, another junior duty officer, and Ronald Deakins, the state services coordinator. Their training had them in automatic mode.

The first step had already been accomplished: activating the sirens and starting the EAS broadcast. That part had been relatively simple. Now began the more difficult task of coordinating with the various county, state, and federal agencies that would be looking to them for what to do. Despite the fact that there were only three of them, the HCD bunker seemed to be a hive of activity. All of them were on the phone.

Renfro had the governor and the mayor of Honolulu on conference call. Both were on their way downtown to their offices.

"What's your ETA, Governor?" Renfro said.

"I'll be back at the Capitol in a few minutes. The holiday traffic was already bad, and more people are getting on the road every minute. My cabinet is spread out all over the city. We've been trying to get in touch with them since we left the hotel."

"And you, Mayor?"

The smooth patrician voice of Mayor Carl Rutledge came over the line. "I was over at Pearl, so it's looking more like fifteen minutes if the traffic doesn't get worse, even with the police escort."

"Who's in charge there?" the governor asked.

"Well, I am, ma'am," said Renfro. "Vice Director Dennis is on Kauai, and there's no way he can get back in time."

"Renfro, what are we looking at here?" the mayor asked. "Is this going to be another false alarm?"

"Sir, you know I can't tell that for sure. What I do know is that we lost contact with Christmas Island, including the tide sensor, and the PTWC issued a tsunami warning."

"Better safe than sorry, Carl," Governor Kalama said.

"I suppose," the mayor said, "but dammit, we're already looking at a budget deficit. We can't have this happen every year."

"Sir, we should know more in a few minutes when the wave is supposed to reach Johnston Island."

On the other side of the room, Michelle Rankin talked to Pearl Harbor's military liaison, an aide to the Commander of US Pacific Command. The leader of the USPACOM was responsible for all US armed forces over half the world's surface.

"Lieutenant, we do have procedures for this…" Rankin said.

"But the last drill was for a three hour window. Now, you're telling me I have about an hour?"

"That's right."

"Ma'am, do you know what it takes for a Navy ship to set sail? It ain't like hopping in your Sea Ray and shooting out of the marina."

"How long would it take if you started right now?"

"Two hours minimum. The engines aren't even hot."

"Look, I'm just telling you how much time you have. You can protest all you want. It's not going to change. Plus you need to get all of the aircraft out of the coastal air bases. We're recommending moving them to Wheeler."

"Well, you see, that's another problem. Most of our pilots are out on leave or at ceremonies away from the bases. We can try to get them back to base, but the way the traffic is moving, we'll be lucky to get a quarter of them up in the air."

Rankin scribbled a note about the military aircraft and handed it to Ronald Deakins, who had the responsibility for coordinating with the civilian airports and seaports. He was on the phone with the Chief of Operations at Honolulu International, which shared runways with Hickam Air Base.

"That's right, sir," Deakins said. "You've got about an hour before the wave arrives."

"And the all-clear? When will that be?"

"I can't say for sure."

"Well, I can't keep the planes circling forever."

"Believe me, sir. We will let you know as soon as the danger has passed."

"Flights are going to be backed up all day because of this, you know."

"I realize that, sir."

"Do we need to evacuate the terminals?"

"Not at this time. They're far enough from shore to be out of immediate danger. We're only concerned about the runways at this point. But we recommend that you take everyone off the planes just in case."

"What a headache. You better hope you're not making us do all this for nothing."

"And you, sir, better hope we are."

The established procedure of the tsunami warning system included notifying the Civil Air Patrol, an auxiliary of the US Air Force that flew search and rescue missions and other operations that the military and government didn't have the resources to do on their own. In the event of a tsunami warning, their duty was simple.

Off shore and in remote locations, it was likely that surfers and boaters would not hear the sirens. Helicopters and planes that were equipped with loudspeakers would fly over the coastlines broadcasting the warning. Each aircraft was responsible for a particular section of the coastline.

During past tsunami warnings, the CAP had met with moderate success. In many cases, the surfers would heed the warnings and paddle into shore. But there were plenty of others who just waved at the aircraft, obviously enjoying the chance to say they had surfed a tsunami.

One of the CAP volunteers, an eager 19-year-old pilot named Michael Perkins, flew a Cessna outfitted with a loudspeaker that he had installed himself. Although he had tested it extensively on the ground at Hickam, he hadn't had an opportunity to drill with it yet. The tsunami warning would be his first chance to try it in action.

He made all the required pre-flight checks and then took off from the runway that Hickam Air Base shared with Honolulu International. However, because he had not tested the loudspeaker in flight, he missed the minor mistake he had made in wiring it to the plane's electrical system. On the ground, with the plane stable, the system worked perfectly. But in flight, the vibration and maneuvers of the plane loosened a wire to the point that it contacted the metal of the plane and shorted out, rendering the loudspeaker mute.

Inside the cockpit of the plane, the roar of the engine and the wind made hearing the loudspeaker impossible, even if it was working. So Michael Perkins had no idea that his warnings to those in the water would go unheard as he patrolled his designated area along Waikiki Beach.