IT WAS NO TSUNAMI
My brain still won't quit imagining being among those people fascinated by the receding water just before the tsunami destroyed everything in sight and washed us out to sea. Try as it might, the wee cells upstairs can't fathom the breadth and tragedy of the situation.
Sure, I've seen plenty of hurricanes and in fact I'm in the very spot where the eyes of both Frances and Jeanne crossed onto shore in September. There's still plenty of work to do in cleaning up, I'll tell you.
The closest I can get to having experienced the fear of a huge death-inducing wave comes from my journey on a 25 foot boat (with no cabin) from here to Walker's Cay, Bahamas quite a few years back. We started early. It was raining and choppy but we figured it would get better. Of course, it got worse and we found ourselves about 30 miles offshore in 10 foot swells (much higher than the height of our boat) packed tightly together. We moved slowly east, a ten hour trip that was supposed to be three, getting battered as walls of water crashed over the entire boat, one about every 15 seconds.
But that was no tsunami.