We are on the Oregon coast for our anniversary. Clear blue skies, barely a breeze, full moon at night. We spent most of yesterday walking on sand and in town; I carried my jacket most of the day. A far cry from that windblown trip here a few years ago that left us stranded without electricity, hot water, or phone service...and was one of our favorite anniversaries ever.
The beaches of the Pacific Northwest are rugged. You rarely see anybody out in the water. For one, it's awfully cold. More importantly, it's pretty dangerous. There are sneaky rip tides and waves that seem to come out of nowhere. Every summer there are at least a couple news stories of unaware or disbelieving tourists who literally get swept away by the mesmerizing surf. Coming to the beach here is not a lazy, frolicky respite of splashing in the waves and working on your tan. Instead, it is a contemplative escape in layered clothing of realizing again the power of nature and respecting forces so much greater than us mere humans.
We got yet another reminder yesterday of the wildness of this coast. While in our hotel room putting on shoes and locating the extra battery for the camera, we heard what sounded like a deep motor or a strange construction tool or a large, distressed animal. All very strange options. We went out into the hallway and discovered that our hotel sits very near one of the four tsunami alarms in this small town of 1500. The first Wednesday of the month is Testing Day and throughout the entire town the following was being announced in a soothing male voice:
"Please remember that the mooing cow means that the system is being tested."
Brilliant when you think about it. If you are going to test a system telling people a ginormous wave is heading their way, you don't want anyone unnecessarily racing to higher ground consumed with panic. You need a sound that everyone will hear and notice but not one that will incite terror. Personally, I might have suggested the sing-song of an ice cream truck or the theme to Jeopardy. But a cow mooing isn't a bad choice. Certainly not something you expect to hear so close to the beach (unless you are in Tillamook I suppose). And while it gets your attention, it's more in that “What the heck is that??” way rather than a “Holy #*$@!!” way. We don't know if the system was only being tested in our town, or if the entire Oregon and Washington coast was mooing yesterday at 11:00am. It's almost worth booking a trip next month to find out.
2 comments:
MOOOOOOOOOOO
I've been going running out to the ocean on weekends the last few weeks. On Fulton at the Great Highway there's a "Tsunami Evacuation Route" sign - in case you can't figure out which way is away from the beach.
San Francisco tests the city-wide emergency sirens every Tuesday at noon. There's the wail of the sirens followed by an announcement in a deep authoritative voice: "this is a test, this is a test of the outdoor warning system". I find it somewhat amazing that the City has an outdoor, city-wide PA system.
When I was taking driving lessons in high school, the very first time I drove in San Francisco was Tuesday, around noon...
Post a Comment