Back to A story of survival rises from the ruins of a fishing village

A story of survival rises from the ruins of a fishing village

March 15, 2011

Bill Schiller

A Japanese rescue team member walks through the completely leveled village of Saito in northeastern Japan Monday, March 14, 2011.

David Guttenfelder/AP

TARO VILLAGE, JAPAN—The seawalls that buffer this once-bucolic fishing village from the ocean were supposed to keep people safe from a tsunami.

The 10-metre high walls — more than a kilometre long — gave tiny Taro the feel of a fortified village, impregnable against all comers.

But not every one felt so sure.

When fisherman Tatsuo Haroki felt the force of Friday’s earthquake, he knew there wasn’t a seawall on earth that was going to save him.

He was right: he estimates the waves triggered by the quake that landed on top of Taro were between “12 and 15 metres high.”

They just sailed over Taro’s ramparts, he says, and pulverized the village into a mess of matchsticks and a whirling whirlpool that turned Taro into slurry.

“That earthquake was so huge, we’d never experienced anything like it before,” says the 64-year-old Haroki, standing amid the ruins of Taro. His decision to move quickly was just a “gut instinct,” he says.

He had been down by the sea, fixing his fishing nets when the 9.0 temblor hit. Almost immediately, warning signals were issued from a portable radio he had been listening to.

He ran to his car and sped home to find his wife, Misa, who was visiting neighbours. She leapt in to the car with him and the two sped up the hill that acts as a backdrop to the village

“We didn’t stop to pick up anything,” says Haroki, who has been a fisherman here for more than 40 years. “We just wanted to escape.”

And so they did, just as they had been drilled to.

Incredibly, just a week before, this village of 5,000 had held its annual tsunami drill, an event that occurs every March 3 to commemorate a devastating tsunami that struck Taro in 1933 and nearly wiped it out.

There’s a solemn minute of silence and people pray.

How many survived last week’s tragedy is not yet known, but many locals here estimate as many as 2,000 might be missing or dead.

In the end, engineering didn’t save a soul in Taro.

What saved lives here was good sense.

On Wednesday, Haroki and his wife returned to the village in search of their sodden belongings, whatever they could find.

It wasn’t an easy task and took luck: entire houses after all had disintegrated.

Taro resembled a garbage dump: hectares upon hectares of smashed wood, crushed cars, overturned boats, boats on roofs, kitchen appliances, stereo speakers, clothing, children’s books, a plastic folder of Japanese post cards based on fairy tales, a record album of Jo Stafford featuring Cole Porter’s “You’d be so nice to come home to.”

One boat, more than 30 metres long, had been hurled upside down like a toy.

Another was smashed into shreds and stuck to the entrance of what used to be the local Lawson’s convenience store.

This was village life violently interrupted on a grand scale.

But happily and almost miraculously, the Harokis happened upon a treasure trove of memory: their two family photos albums.

“We burst into tears when we found them,” said Haroki, opening one album to gaze at the pictures. “These are our babies,” he said, referring to their children and grandchildren.

But Taro was by no means unique in its reliance on a massive and intricate seawall. About 40 per cent of Japan’s 35,000-kilometre coastline is marked by concrete seawalls or breakwaters meant to protect the coast.

They are ubiquitous in a country where the expectation of the next big earthquake is part of national consciousness.

And many believe seawalls serve mainly as make-work projects, and to hand out big concrete contracts.

Taro’s is just one of about a dozen major seawalls around the country. But locals like to tell foreigners here how people from “all over Asia” come here to see its famous seawall and to learn from it.

But while many have praised Japan for its demanding building codes and quake-resistant buildings, Friday’s earthquake — and the failure of its elaborate seawall system — could call for a reconsideration of seawalls altogether.

In Taro, once the water cleared the seawall and hit the village, it stayed and raged there, having trapped the entire village inside a kind of ‘bowl’ formed by the seawall itself and the mountains behind the village.

In fact, it could be said that it contributed to trapping victims and drowning many inside the perimeter’s powerful waters.

For 55-year-old grandmother Mikako Watanabe, in her moment of need, the seawall was simply a barrier that had to be overcome. After the quake, with the clock ticking on the tsunami, she had to climb over it to get to her home quickly, in order to save herself and her 5-year-old grandson Yoh.

The two exited out the back door and climbed to higher ground.

“Everyone had said this area was a safe area,” Watanabe said, as she picked through the rubble Wednesday. “We hadn’t had a real tsunami since 1933 and we never really thought that we would see a big one in our lifetime. And of course they built this good seawall and so . . . we were quite happy and relaxed.”

Perhaps that is another risk of seawalls: a fall sense of security.

When Watanabe reached the top of the hill and looked back and saw the waves of the tsunami roaring in, that sense of seawall security was gone forever.

“I was really shocked when I saw it with my own eyes — sawing it breaking over the wall,” she says.

Up on that same hill were her fellow villagers, the Harokis.

Looking down, with the tsunami fast approaching, they all watched in horror as a traffic jam took shape on the village’s main street.

Tragically, people wouldn’t give up their cars and run to save themselves.

Instead, they perished in them.

Analysis: Let’s cool the political meltdown over nuclear power plants
By Slate slate Mon Mar 14, 11:56 am ET

By William Saletan
Slate

Less than a year ago, a drilling rig exploded off the coast of the United States, killing 11 workers and pouring 4 million barrels of oil into the Gulf of Mexico. No natural disaster caused this tragedy. It was entirely man-made. President Obama halted deep-water drilling but lifted the moratorium less than six months later. On Friday, while fielding questions about Japan's nuclear reactors, he proudly noted that his administration, under new, stricter rules, had "approved more than 35 new offshore drilling permits."

That's how we deal with tragedies in the oil business. Accidents happen. People die. Pollution spreads. We don't abandon oil. We study what went wrong, try to fix it, and move on.

Contrast this with the panic over Japan's reactors. For 40 years, they've quietly done their work. Three days ago, they were hit almost simultaneously by Japan's worst earthquake and one of its worst tsunamis. Not one reactor container has failed. The only employee who has died at a Japanese nuclear facility since the quake was killed by a crane. Despite this, voices are rising in Europe and the United States to abandon nuclear power. Industry analysts predict that the Japan scare, like Chernobyl, will freeze plant construction.

Let's cool this panic before it becomes a political meltdown.

Early reports said four Japanese plants were in trouble. Now it appears only two were disabled. Early reports said three employees had radiation sickness. Now we're hearing only one is sick, and even in that case, the radiation dose appears relatively low. Two reactor buildings exploded, but these were explosions of excess hydrogen, not nuclear fuel, and neither of them ruptured the inner containers that encase the reactor cores. Some radiation has leaked, but according to measurements outside the plants, the amount so far is modest. Any leak is bad, and the area of contamination, even at low rates, will probably spread. Japan needs our sympathy and our help. But let's not exaggerate the crisis.

In advanced countries like Japan and the United States, nuclear plants are built to standards no drilling rig can touch. If a sensor, cable, or power source fails, another sensor, cable, or power source is available. Containers of steel or concrete envelop the reactors to prevent massive radiation leaks. Chernobyl didn't have such a container. Three Mile Island did. That's why Three Mile Island produced no uncontrolled leakage or injuries.

(What's in the radioactive vapors)

Japan's plants were designed to withstand quakes and tsunamis, but not a combination of this magnitude. At the affected facilities, the quake knocked out the primary cooling systems, and the tsunami wiped out the backup diesel generators. Then a valve malfunction thwarted efforts to pump water into one of the reactors. Everything that could go wrong did.

Despite this, the reactor containers have held firm. The explosions around them have blown outward, relieving pressure, as designed. Meanwhile, plant operators, deprived of their primary and secondary power sources for cooling the cores, have tapped batteries and deployed alternate generators. To relieve pressure, they've released vapor. And in some cases, they've pumped seawater and boric acid into the reactors, destroying them to protect the public. Cooling systems are back online at two previously impaired reactors, and a backup pump has averted cooling problems at a third plant.

The reactor where the crisis began, Fukushima Daiichi Unit 1, is one of Japan's oldest. It was two weeks from its 40-year expiration date when the quake hit. Similar plants in the United States have been upgraded to ensure that in the event of power failure, water can still be pumped in to cool them. And nuclear plants are indisputably getting safer. Since 1990, worker radiation exposure and automatic reactor shutdowns worldwide have declined by a factor of three. According to an analysis last year by the Nuclear Energy Agency of the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development, plants being constructed by today's standards are 1,600 times safer than early nuclear plants, in terms of the predicted frequency of a large radiation leak. Even if a reactor core is damaged, as in Japan, the NEA report notes that today, "the probability of a release to the environment is about ten times less than that of core damage," thanks to improvements in fuel, circuits, and containment.

(Follow Slate's coverage of the Japanese devastation)

If Japan, the United States, or Europe retreats from nuclear power in the face of the current panic, the most likely alternative energy source is fossil fuel. And by any measure, fossil fuel is more dangerous. The sole fatal nuclear power accident of the last 40 years, Chernobyl, directly killed 31 people. By comparison, Switzerland's Paul Scherrer Institute calculates that from 1969 to 2000, more than 20,000 people died in severe accidents in the oil supply chain. More than 15,000 people died in severe accidents in the coal supply chain—11,000 in China alone. The rate of direct fatalities per unit of energy production is 18 times worse for oil than it is for nuclear power.

Even if you count all the deaths plausibly related to Chernobyl—9,000 to 33,000 over a 70-year period—that number is dwarfed by the death rate from burning fossil fuels. The OECD's 2008 Environmental Outlook calculates that fine-particle outdoor air pollution caused nearly 1 million premature deaths in the year 2000, and 30 percent of this was energy-related. You'd need 500 Chernobyls to match that level of annual carnage. But outside Chernobyl, we've had zero fatal nuclear power accidents.

That doesn't mean we can ignore what has happened in Japan. Precisely because nuclear accidents are so rare, we have to study them intensely. Each one tells us what to fix in the next generation of power plants. The most obvious mistake in Japan was parking the diesel generators in an area low enough to be flooded by a quake-driven tsunami. The batteries that backed up the generators weren't adequate, either. They lasted only eight hours, and power outage fallback plans at U.S. reactors are even shorter. Moreover, this is the second time an advanced nuclear facility has had to vent radioactive vapor (Three Mile Island was the first). Maybe it's time to require filtration systems that scrub the vapor before it's released.

Sen. Joe Lieberman of Connecticut says we should "put the brakes" on nuclear power plant construction until we figure out what went wrong in Japan. Rep. Ed Markey of Massachusetts wants a moratorium on new reactors in "seismically active areas" while we study the problem. That's fine. But let's not block construction indefinitely while we go on mindlessly pumping oil. Because nuclear energy, for all its risks, is safer.

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