If Puget Sound is Falling Down - Earthquake Studies

This story was originally written in 1994.

Trunk Coffee Tables

William Steele, the Seismology Lab Coordinator at the University of Washington Geophysics Program, has a son, Chris, who goes to elementary school. "He comes in sometimes and he loves to do stuff." It seems he'd recently put a sticker on one of the lab's monitors, and his father had some trouble accessing the equipment. "What an excuse!" Steele never did get into the program he'd wanted to show me.

Trunk Coffee Tables

December 4th of last year there was a magnitude 5.1 quake in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Aftershocks were felt in Washington State. I had headed out to the UW in search of information on recent earthquake activity in the Puget Sound region.

"Oregon is relatively quiet next to Washington. But this year, we've had an enormous amount of activity in Oregon, counter to past patterns." Klamath Falls couldn't be noisier, said Steele, ticking off the numbers: September 4th, 5.9; Sept. 20th, 5.9, 5.0, 4.3; Dec. 4th, 5.1; and Christmas Day, 4.0, 3.4.

Most of our local activity in the Puget Sound region is recorded by the UW's lab equipment. They have an emergency preparation computer program called "Beat the Quake," hailing from the land of quakes, California, which has suffered through quite a lot of severe earthquake damage lately. That's the program Steele had trouble running on his computer. Fortunately, the UW's Seismology Lab has far more emergency preparedness information "so we don't have to begin from ground zero" in the likely event of an earthquake. Steele is also the Public Information Officer covering quakes through the UW. "We have 135 seismic stations throughout Washington and Oregon, currently operating, and we're expanding. We really cover a tremendously broad area."

They locate quakes precisely, then determine the magnitude (quantity of total energy released by the quake), location (area affected by the quake), and epicenter (location on the surface directly above the focus, or place where an earthquake originates.)

They collect data about the geology of the region as well. "It's critical data. This lab is an educational center for graduate students in geophysics." They also educate citizens. School groups bring in students, and Steele speaks at civic organizations, encouraging people to take action and make themselves safer from earthquakes.

Of course, the big question everyone asks is, "When?"

"We're not able to put down a date. It's more complicated because three types of quakes occur in the Puget Sound region. The most common are deep earthquakes.

"Signals travel through the planet's crust, sometimes all the way from the other side." Events from anywhere show up on their helicorder sheets, making an analog, a 24-hour record, of every quake. For example, the Klamath Falls quakes, which are very near California on the Oregon coast.

"We cover the Cascade Range, and have multiple stations on every volcano. We have a good station at Mt. Baker, adequate to cover the region." Earthquakes around volcanoes are very common.

The lab shares data with California for quakes occurring on the border of California and Oregon. "We're part of the Washington Regional Seismic Network." Steele showed me a map of Pacific Northwest Seismicity, 1969-1991. There were huge blue clusters in Puget Sound. What are those, I asked. "Moderate, shallow, and deep quakes. The deep clusters are in the Puget Basin."

Deep earthquakes, the ones you really tend to write home about, are the largest in magnitude as measured on the Modified Mercalli Intensity Scale. The values usually range from 1.0 (not felt) to 7.0 (extreme damage to buildings and land surfaces). They can go even higher, as they have in recent deep quakes in Alaska.

Here's what's happening in Puget Sound: about 300 kilometers or more out from the coast is where the deep quakes are generated. There's a ridge 500 to 700 kilometers out called the Juan de Fuca Ridge, and new material, new sea floor, is being deposited all the time along it. It pushes the Juan de Fuca plate toward the North American plate underneath the Seattle area. The Juan de Fuca plate moves an average of two inches a year, towards us, lifting the other plate.

A border zone locks it up, an interface between the two plates that stops the oceanic plate, making it subduct beneath us, forcing the ocean plate down into the mantle of the Earth. This boundary is called the Cascadia Subduction Zone, and extends from the middle of Vancouver Island in British Columbia down to Northern California.

The Earth's mantle lies beneath its brittle crust. It's semi-solid, due to tremendous heat and pressure. "Our Cascade volcanoes are probably there because of plate subduction beneath us. The push deforms the crust and builds up tremendous stresses. Right now, the coast of Washington is rising. It's bulging up." The oceanic plate is "cold rock" and the shock of the two forces meeting leads to deep earthquakes. Washington has recently experienced two large ones, in 1949 and 1965.

A flyer from the lab states that roughly 1,000 earthquakes per year are recorded in Washington and Oregon. "Between one and two dozen of these cause enough ground shaking to be felt by residents. Most are in the Puget Sound region, and few cause any real damage. However, based on the history of past damaging earthquakes and our understanding of the geologic history of the Pacific Northwest, we are certain that damaging earthquakes (magnitude 6.0 or greater) will recur in our area, although we have no way to predict whether this is more likely to be today, or years from now." Steele thinks it will be soon.

"In 1949, there was a severe earthquake in Olympia, 7.1. Eight people were killed and there was millions of dollars worth of property damage. The quake was located 70 kilometers deep.

"In 1965, there was a magnitude 6.5 quake between Seattle and Tacoma." Both earthquakes were felt as far away as Montana. But there were no aftershocks, as is usual during a deep quake. The infamous aftershocks, known to catch people in the middle of recovering from a bad earthquake, happen during land-based shallow earthquakes. The ocean-based shocks occurred once, causing ground tremors that lasted several minutes. "The 1965 quake killed about five people, and again there was millions of dollars of property damage." Other deep events, difficult to calculate from records of the times, occurred in 1882, 1909, and 1939. "Every 35 years or so a 6.0+ magnitude quake occurs beneath Puget Basin. The whole region along the coast will shift at once. When it finally builds up enough pressure to kick up, it'll be a big one."

Eighty percent of the quakes on the planet happen along the Pacific North West Rim, which is referred to as "The Ring of Fire" because of all our volcanic activity. In 1964, one year before this area's last big event, south-central Alaska generated a monster 9.3 quake, shaking the ground for twenty minutes, generating tidal waves that decimated Seward's coast, affected 34,000 square miles, and killed 143 people. And there's been recent large quakes in Cape Mendecino, California, and Parkfield, California, infamous for ground shaking, in 1992.

Brian Atwater of the USGS (United States Geological Service) and the UW geology department has done studies along the coasts of Washington and Oregon. He's found a kind of layered soil..."what he found...ghost forests killed by the last big quakes. Subduction zone material covered by coarse black sand." A layer gradually turned into forest floor and then the sand layer. "As bulging continues, coastline rises, and low-lying areas are flushed clean by salt water. Stress released during the quake makes the coastline subside by seven or eight feet. It 'drops.' If you're living at five feet above sea level, it's not a very comfortable thing."

Earthquakes also generate large tsunamis, or tidal waves; the biggest ones, generated by larger quakes, can rip up an entire coastline for miles, wiping out bridges, roads, and buildings. The really great subduction zone quakes, 9.0 or more, only occur about once a century on the face of the planet. Strangely, a big quake may result in only about three-and-a-half minutes worth of strong ground shaking, which doesn't sound like much. "One recent California quake was only seventeen seconds of strong ground motion, a 7.1 quake. A 7.0 quake releases the equivalent of 199,000 tons of TNT in energy; a 9.0 releases 200 million tons, or 17,000 atomic bombs' worth of force.

"The difference between an 8 and a 9 is greater than the difference between a 2 and an 8, because of the logarithmic scale. The force increases exponentially. It gets 30 times greater each time." I wondered if it ever goes up to 10.0.

By carbon-14 dating organic matter in ground and sea levels, "scientists can determine approximate dates for events going back 10,000 years." Finding clues about these earthquakes involves both painstaking research and educated guesswork.

Research has recently identified a Seattle fault which generated a large quake between 1,000 to 1,100 years ago. "There were landslides, and a huge seiche-when something big falls in the water, creating waves like tsunamis. Large block landslides occurred in forests. Restoration Point on Bainbridge Island rose twenty feet from Puget Sound in seconds during that event."

Buildup from glacial ice sheets once covering the continent make it difficult to analyze shallow crust faults. But geologists are pretty sure there are two major Seattle faults. The biggest one runs from the north tip of Mercer Island through Eastgate to the Kingdome, just north of West Seattle. The other fault runs through White Center, parallel to the bigger one. In 1872, an estimated 7.3 shallow quake caused what seismologists call "felt reports" from observers, the only evidence of some older quakes. Native Americans tell legends about what must have been some very sizeable earthquakes and tsunamis.

Nowadays, all the real-time telemetry (automatic transmission of data from a distant source to a receiving station) comes through in the back of the lab, where Steele poured me a cup of Starbucks coffee at their metal sink in a very equipment-crowded space. "Relays 'zap' activity energy in nanoseconds to the lab. Before people in a region know what's going to hit them, we do." The helicorders monitor 23 stations on analog. "We focus on volcanoes. All stations, including the ones on helicorders, go onto the computer system in the next room. The discriminator in the back takes FM carrier signals and separates them from seismic signals, leaving an amplified seismic signal. It goes to the front room, changing into digital information the computer can read.

"If it picks up a 'jump' (a skip in the needle on the helicorder) on a station, it checks other stations and records all data, whether there's a signal or not. If it's a big quake, it does estimates of the magnitude etc. via programs, beeps the people (like Steele), and sends information to seismologists around the region." Steele might hear a "beep" anytime.

As I drank my coffee, Steele told me he was a grad student, his life's partner works, and together they support their family, renting a house in Wallingford and raising two kids. "It's a rewarding job, but...the rewards are not monetary." Nonetheless, he feels treated as a colleague by everyone, and has a good working relationship with all his "fellows at the lab."

About earthquake preparedness, Steele is adamant. "The secret is not fear and loathing in Seattle, and that we have to hide under our beds. Let's get ready. Our schools need to get to the point where we can withstand a 7.4 earthquake. How many little bodies do we need under bricks before we start spending some money?" Right now, there are no definite laws enforcing earthquake building codes, "if the building code years ago said you could pile bricks without mortar on top of each other."

Unreinforced masonry creates structures that fall during even moderate earthquakes. "The entire wall of a school can fall down and kill students. A brick that falls three stories doesn't slow down," he said, referring to the death of a boy during the 1965 earthquake. Steele is certain such deaths are preventable.

At least six schools in Oregon have unreinforced structures, bricks that can fall and fill a doorway, blocking the exit. "Retrofit them, or tear them down and build another school. If a school has been considered unsafe for a quake lately, they can sell it, and it becomes a senior center. No laws stop that. These buildings need to be brought up to code or taken down. Deaths will happen unless we act. India just had a 6.8 quake...tens of thousands dead. There needs to be water and food stored away to last 72 hours. You need to get under a table and ride it out; get down on the ground, under something; check to see if you smell gas, and turn it off; electricity, too."

You should get to know your community resources, Steele said. And in case of severe aftershocks, if you're in a building "you should wait until the shaking stops, and then get out." Lots of people are killed by falling debris while evacuating buildings.

What does Steele see in the immediate future? "I expect more of the same. Probably some quakes greater than 4.0 in the Puget Sound area. While we've been talking, there've been events in Klamath Falls,." As I write this, there are aftershocks east of the Dec. 4 "sequence" starting in Klamath Falls. "The question is, are we going to recognize the danger and do something about it, or are we going to wait until we have an adequate death toll? I'd like to see a dedicated plan and some leadership from the state. It'll be a lot of money."

Steele said a colleague of his said it best: "The next great disaster will happen as soon as we forget about the last one."

What to do other than screaming your lungs out...fall down!

Apparently, you may hear a very loud, building sound before the frenzy begins. The below is from "How to Survive in Earthquake Country," a FEMA pamphlet. Find out about your risks, at home, and in your workplace. Get more specifics from the American Red Cross, or FEMA.

Learn what causes injuries: parts falling off building exteriors and interiors; flying pieces of broken glass; overturning bookcases; unanchored water heaters; storage facilities; anything made of glass; fires from damaged gas lines; electric lines; wood stoves; chimneys; toxic fumes.

Create emergency preparedness plans: find safe spots in your home; identify escape routes; plan two ways out of each room; pick two places to meet, outside your house and outside the neighborhood if you can't return home; show everyone how to shut off water, gas and electricity; practice your plans, now.

Read "Your Family Disaster Plan," and "Emergency Preparedness Checklist," which you can get from FEMA.

Reduce earthquake hazards: evaluate your home; strap water heaters and gas appliances down; remember, stiff items snap; place heavy objects on lower shelves; anchor everything heavy; anchor hanging objects; support community earthquake preparedness.

Businesses, schools, daycares, neighborhoods, churches, clubs: hold workshops. Assemble a disaster preparedness kit: store food, water, clothes, a first aid kit, a radio, flashlights, and batteries, good for 72 hours of use, in your car trunk, home, and office. For more details, consult the FEMA brochure, "Your Family Disaster Supplies Kit."

During/after an earthquake: stay calm; don't panic or run. Earthquakes are usually preceded by loud sounds, so take quick action. You actually have about two seconds, so get ready for that earthquake now to protect yourself and others. Stay where you are: drop, cover and hold something solid, or take immediate cover under a heavy desk or table, in a doorway, hallway, or against inside walls. Turn away from glass. Keep away from chimneys, windows, tall bookcases, and objects that might fall.

Evacuate only after the shaking stops. Use the stairs, not the elevator. Remember, aftershocks may occur at any time. Listen to a radio or TV for instructions. Outdoors: move away from buildings, trees, and utility wires. Sit on the ground until the shaking stops. Flee inland immediately when near a coastline. Check for injuries. Do not move seriously injured people unless they're in danger. Indoors: evacuate damaged buildings, as aftershocks could cause additional damage, or buildings can collapse.

Do not re-enter a building until it's declared safe by responsible authorities. Don't use the telephone except for emergencies; stay off the phone. Check for fires. Have a fire extinguisher, and know how to use it. Check utilities: gas, electric, and water lines may be broken. Gas: do not use matches, candles, open flames or electric switches indoors, because of possible gas leaks. If you smell gas, open windows, leave, and shut off the main gas valve, which is usually outside.

Electricity: if wiring is broken, shut off electricity at the main switch. Don't touch anything near downed or damaged lines. Water: if water pipes are broken, shut off the supply at the main valve outside. Use water from ice cubes, water heaters, toilet tanks (if they don't contain chemical cleaners). Clean up spills. Attend carefully to spills of potentially harmful materials such as medicines, drugs, and household cleaners. Provide adequate ventilation, as chemicals may combine to produce toxic gas. Remember to assist others in need.

Finally, please remember to keep current on the "stats" regarding earthquakes, volcanoes and other natural disasters in your area, so you have a pretty good idea what to do - in the likely event you will have to suffer through one. And also remember: it's not your fault. (Sorry about that, I couldn't resist the joke.)

If Puget Sound is Falling Down - Earthquake Studies
Trunk Coffee Tables

Crib Graco

A Short Story on a Travel Theme - Strangers

We arrived more than two hours later than planned, but the west of England summer light had not yet faded even to dusk. A soft golden glow was just growing across the sunset, which had just tinged a flat-calm sea beyond this tumbling village. We were tourists here, strangers in this small, tightly-knit place.

Trunk Coffee Tables

For us it was just part of a tour, a long weekend snatched in common from the clutches of our combined, ever demanding careers. I felt utterly liberated, that beautiful evening, as we walked the quarter mile or so down the steep dry cobbles from the obligatory car park into the car-less village, the deadlines and demands of advertising for once confined outside the limits of this small place. And I could tell from the spring in Jenny's step that her battles with bottom sets in Lewisham were now further distant than our three days on the road.

Trunk Coffee Tables

There was a small gift shop, a tourist-trap trinket place, just a hundred yards along the lane. I bought the newspaper our early departure from St. Ives had denied me, my daily fix of political gossip now long established as an essential feature of my adoption into London life. I explained that we were strangers here, had driven down the side road in the hope of finding something interesting and had nothing booked.

The shopkeeper said we had just three options - the Old Hotel just down the lane, a bed and breakfast at the bottom by the harbour or the farm near the junction with the main road, back where we had turned off.

"It was different years ago," he said, "when lots of people used to stay over, but now it's all day trippers and holiday homes. Ten years ago we had half a dozen guest houses, but they've all closed down."

The Old Hotel was just two hundred yards from the shop, at the head of the steep cove that housed the tangled triangle of the village. It was a bit beyond the price we usually paid and had AA stars framed over its reception desk, but we fell for the place and checked in, just for one night. It was the kind of mock Jacobean black and white inn, whose lack of a straight line just might have suggested it was original. But the beams were hollow and the plaque above the entrance said, "Refurbished 1958."

"Do you have any luggage to bring from the car park?" the receptionist asked. The name tag pinned to her blouse said, 'Hilary, Manageress'. "We have a man with a donkey and sledge who will bring it down for you." She wasn't joking.

I lifted our two hold-alls and said it was all we had. She smiled, offering politeness but communicating knowledge tinged with judgment. It was in an era when it was still unusual for a couple to sign in without obviously trying to appear married.

We took the key for room number six. There were only eight and the other seven keys were still hanging on their hooks when we took the lift - yes, the lift! - to the upper floor. Number six was at the back, of course, right above the kitchen extractor fan and overlooked an enclosed yard with a yellowed corrugated plastic roof. It hid an array of lidless dustbins, from which a hint of an aroma sweetened the still air when we opened the windows to encourage the previous occupant's cigarette smoke to leave. We dropped the bags and walked down to the sea to absorb the last of the late springtime sun at its setting.

The beach was shingle and small, hard-packed against a harbour wall that extended a good fifty yards into the shallow sea. A couple of clapperboard buildings, largely rotten, clung to its prominence, their profit long past, but their structures all but remaining. There were doors missing and one structure had no interior, the uncovered entrance revealing merely sky beyond. At one time, clearly, the locals had something of a living from this place, fishing perhaps, maybe small trade, smuggling in poor times, salvage by design, who knows. And then came the tourists, the stranger trade of nineteenth century invention that evaporated when the trunk road widened and rendered the place no more than a day trip from anywhere this side of Birmingham or London.

As we walked back up the deceptively steep single track that bisected the village, we passed several open doorways seeking air on this unseasonably balmy evening at the end of May. After London everything here felt so cosy, so small, warm and unthreatening, as if the place itself were welcoming us into its embracing fold.

We saw just two other people, both descending the path, and independently both offered greeting. "Isn't it pretty," said Jenny. "Don't you wish you lived here?" I declined to answer.

We ate at the Old Hotel. There was nowhere else. We ordered the grilled sole with parsley butter. Potatoes and broccoli were the 'legumes de saison'. It took over half an hour for the food to appear. We finished the bottle of house white we had ordered to go with the fish long before even the smell of cooking wafted through from the kitchen. We got significant giggles speculating on how far out into the Bristol Channel the boat had to go to catch our order. We ate. It wasn't bad, and then we moved across to the bar, the four steps needed to change location effectively redefining us from guests to locals. A concertina glass partition separated the areas in theory, but tonight it had been opened wide for ventilation. The rest of the evening became a tale of three women, Hilary, Sue and Sandra, all of whom have dreamt.

The hotel bar is the only place to drink, so it's a pub, complete with its regulars. A half a dozen men are collectively and determinedly engaged in preventing the oak top from rising, their planted elbows firmly ensuring its continued sojourn on earth. They are passing the time of night with what seems to be a predictable set of platitudes. "I bought the D-reg because I thought it would work out cheaper in the long run, what with the smaller servicing bills and the like... ...But you ought to do more of that sort of thing yourself and then you wouldn't have to pay anything at all... ... Yes, I know, but I just don't have the time. Have you, these days?... ...Give us another, Sandra... ...You go just beyond the first turning... ...Down past the egg farm where my brother used to work... ...They are really cheap if you buy them by the sack... ...bloody heavy, mind you..."

She is forty going on sixty, utterly contemptuous of what she sees before her, yet utterly resigned - or condemned - to servicing its every need. She is rather large and quite square, both in face and body. She's been like that ever since she can remember. Black hair, cut quite, but not very short and swept to a wave at the front showing that she has spent not a little time tonight cleansing and preening herself before starting work behind the bar at the Old Hotel. On the other side of the argument is a series of slobs, one of whom we only ever seem to see from the back. His head is triangular with apex at the base. A pair of key-in-keyhole ears protrude. He was probably called 'wing-nut' by his classmates at school. I resist the temptation to grab an ear-key and twist it to see what it might unlock. From the bar talk we can clearly hear, the answer surely is not much.

Mr Ears is something of a leader, he thinks. He rarely lets any conversation that is shared by the others to pass without his own inserted comment. He wears a boiler suit, heavily stained, and a pair of Doc Martins that have seen better decades. His skin is rough and darkened, but probably not by sun. His head is shaved, but shows a shadow at the edge of his baldness. He seems to lead with his head, which he sticks out to emphasise every voluminous word he speaks.

At one point there seems to be a lull in the conversation. Mr Ears picks up one of the wet cloth runners from the bar and throws it at Sandra. He thinks it's very funny and nudges his neighbour in the ribs as he flings. Sandra is hardly amused. She tries to say, "Please don't do that" just as he raises his arm, but she is only half way through the "Please" by the time he has flung it. To say that she is not amused is to understate the utter contempt that fills her eyes. But still, it's a living.

Her son has been helping out with the washing up in the under-staffed kitchen. He is fourteen, at least that is what Sandra immediately chooses to tell us the moment he appears. She gravitates towards our end of the albeit small bar, placing the maximum distance between herself and the group that we now learn includes her husband, Mr Ears. Darren, the son, is just like her, the same shape, but with brown, not black hair. I sense Jenny concluding that the mother's is dyed. Darren is still very much his mother's boy, not yet his father's threat. Knowing that she will have to put the place to rights tonight before she leaves, she has him wipe down the tables and stack the stools, destined to be unused this evening. Mr Ears, he of the triangular head and key-in-keyhole ears, smiles a mild pride a little as he drinks whisky chasers at some rate.

He orders a round of drinks for himself and his mates. He almost theatrically flips open his softened leatherette wallet and then pulls a face deigning surprise when he finds it empty. Sandra's expression is both knowing and tired as she, reluctantly, scowling when she turns her back to him, writes out an IOU and places it in the till. It's no doubt in her own name. She takes some pence in 'change' from the chit, which she offers and he pockets, rattling the coins against a set of keys in his deep pockets, as if ensuring that it has fallen to the bottom. A few minutes later he needs another refill costing eighty-five pence, but he produces only twenty-five from his pocket. Sandra makes up the rest from her purse, her lips pressing a silent curse as she operates the till.

A minute later Hilary appears from the kitchen. She hands Sandra a brown envelope. A slight smile confirms that these are wages, perhaps for the week. Sandra immediately extracts a note, places it in the till and retrieves her IOU, which, after attracting her husband's attention, she pointedly tears into small pieces and ditches into an ashtray, an ashtray that she will have to clean out later. Mr Ears barks and growls a little, maybe sensing a put down in front of his mates, but later we are told that really wants to have the paper intact so he can read the amount to check that Sandra's not fiddling him and arranging to keep something for herself. "Never trust people in business," he says, loudly to his mate, "but never vote against them!" He laughs.

Sue follows Hilary from the kitchen. We know her name immediately because Sandra greets her, as if she has not seen her for weeks. Her white, side-buttoned jacket identifies her as the person who grilled our fish. She is a very good cook. We enjoyed our sole, I tell her. She says thank you, but then immediately delivers a bout of self-deprecation, apologising for the fact that she has never had any training. Her words are like a magnet for the other women, who immediately move to our end of the bar, as far from the locals as it gets. Sue then tells us of a coffee fudge cake that prompted one guest to propose to her. The ladies laugh, including my Jenny. Her husband, however, was the one who taught her how to cook fish. It's all in the salt. After all, they live in salt water, don't they?

Perhaps because we are strangers, Sue wants to talk. Clearly the locals at the other end would not be interested in the fact that she often has to cook for thirty people in a kitchen that's the size of a dog kennel. Hilary, Sue and Sandra are clearly not happy with their lot. Hilary, especially, seems tense and dispirited as Sue tries to explain the facilities at the back. When she invites us through the bar to inspect where she works, Hilary looks perturbed, even threatened. "Look", says Sue, with a wave of an arm, "there's one piddling microwave, a gas cooker from year dot and a freezer that wouldn't service a family of four. And when the place is full of trippers, I have to do twenty bar meals an hour at lunchtime."

Hilary ushers us back the right side of the bar There's not much work around here, she tells us. Having us visit the kitchen was clearly more than her job was worth, so she changes the subject. "It's nice here, but I feel that life is passing me by. I'm a city girl. I'm from Walsall. I'm not used to living in a small place like this. I envy you two. I'd really like to be in London, but my boyfriend is a herdsman and there's no call for them in Mayfair."

But she does make sure we register that Sue is slaving away in the kitchen for next to nothing. And the owner who often supervises rang in to say that he would not be around to lend a hand this evening because he was sick, when she knew full well that in fact he and his wife had been invited out to dinner by the Cowan's at their farm.

"At this time of year, when the sky is clear and the air is fresh and the weather's nice, you would think that this is a really nice place to live. But just go and have a look at the backs of these places. Go round the side and have a look. Give me a modern bungalow with double glazing and central heating any day. They are falling to bits. In winter you can have the heating going full blast and still have a gale blowing in around the window frame. On nights like those I'm almost glad to be working here. At least it's warm." The words were qualified by a nod towards the regulars. "But then you have to sit here and put up with the rubbish that lot talk about all evening... Honestly in winter, in the dark nights, there are times when you wish you were anywhere apart from here. And this is the best work in the village, despite the fact that the owners never want to put any money into the place. And the people from here can't get it into their heads that it's in their own interest to invest in the place, to make it more attractive.. But then you get up in the morning and the sun is shining and the sky is blue and you can see across to Lundy Island and you walk the dogs across the cliff top and everything seems fine. I don't know."

It was then that she changed. An overlooked duty resurfaced from a forgotten cell. A moment later she returned from the reception. She had another brown envelope for Sandra, who smiled as she took it. The word 'bonus' could be heard, but there was a question mark of sorts. By then we had decided to go to bed and, as we left our bar stools, we only had time to bid her goodnight.

The following morning we walked around again. There really wasn't anywhere to go, except where we had already been. You could go up or down. Up was back to the car. Down was to the sea. We chose down. Up would come later. We walked along the harbour wall, past the dilapidated clapperboards to look at the flat calm lying below a grey but light sky There was a buzzard, an intruder, screaming as it was shepherded away by pecking gulls. We watched the pursuit for ten minutes or more as the local nesters made sure that the unwanted foreigner was well and truly escorted off their patch.

As we stepped off the rampart and back onto the shingle, a British Telecom van appeared from the town. We assumed that he must have special dispensation to drive the main street, a privilege afforded only to the corporate. At the bottom the driver sped to a halt and then engaged reverse. This was clearly only a change of direction, there being nowhere along the main street to turn once you had entered the village. A group of men to our right noticed the noise and broke off from their idiotic task of trying to move a rusty old hulk across the shingle with makeshift crowbars. It was the hint of wheel-spin that attracted them Here was someone who did not know the place. Here was potential profit. A hint of forward movement in the van dissolved into an engine race as the rear end sank as far as the body into the loose stones.

Crowbars discarded, the blokes surrounded their captive in a matter of seconds. "He's got that well and truly...," grumbled Mr Ears, who was one of the first to arrive. He recognised us from the bar and actually spoke directly to us, but the words were for the van driver's benefit. He scratched his head a few times as his mates appeared. They too mumbled as they crouched to inspect the depth of the problem. The van driver and his companion had got out of their seats, their doors scraping into the shingle. Mr Ears then said quite a lot, but I caught only an odd word. He scratched his head again. "It really isn't my day today," he said to me as he passed.

After a few minutes our little crowd still surrounded the prey when the Land Rover appeared. Mr Ears told us that it normally does the ferrying back to the car park for those trippers who can't bring themselves to walk back up the hill. "It doubles as a tow truck for the boats," he said. He tied a small thin rope to the tow bar and then selected a suitable place to attach it to the Telecom van. A whistle to the Land Rover produced a crawl. The rope broke, of course. Mr Ears scratched his head again. He was clearly having to work hard today. A mate went off to find a heavier rope, which was duly attached. The Land Rover growled as the van driver raised a scream from his engine. There was a splutter at the back end of his van and then it was free. There was a round of applause. A note was offered and Mr Ears took it, but clearly expressed a belief that it should be bigger. "The things I have to do to earn a living," he said as he shuffled past the two of us, pulling and rewinding the rope that probably belonged to someone else. As British Telecom whined its way up the hill in second gear, we set off towards the Old Hotel to retrieve our bags, check out and get under way. Jenny and I shared a joke about Mr Ears, referring to elbows and arseholes.

Sandra was waiting for us. She had a cloth bag in her right hand and her son's hand in her left. He really was a very young fourteen. Clasped by her thumb, and pressed against her son's grasped fingers was a brown envelope, presumably the envelope that Hilary had passed to her just as we left the bar. The envelope was torn and a single sheet of paper flapped loose. Jenny stayed with her while I paid the bill and got our bags.

"She wants a lift into town," said Jenny when I returned. She got the sack. They have accused her of taking money from the till. She's leaving." I cast a glance back down the hill, but there was no-one in sight. Mr Ears was still down there, earning, when the four of us, all strangers now, set off towards the car.

A Short Story on a Travel Theme - Strangers
Trunk Coffee Tables

Natural Organic Latex Mattress Corner Desks Home

Storage Ideas For College Dorms

Moving into a college dorm room as a freshman is always exciting. But many students are not prepared for just how small their new space on campus is. With most rooms only averaging around 228 square feet, it can be tough to squeeze all of your stuff into that area, especially if you'll be sharing the space with a room mate. Fortunately, there are all types of great storage options to look into that can help maximize your living area as well as give you some much needed storage.

Trunk Coffee Tables

Consider a Trunk: A storage trunk is a great piece to have, as it can often store everything from sweaters to jackets to blankets to even your everyday supplies. It adds a nice decorative touch, especially with so many different styles available. Best of all, it can double as seating or a coffee table, eliminating the need for extra furniture.

Trunk Coffee Tables

Maximize Closet Space: You and your room mate likely each get your own teeny tiny closet, or you may share a somewhat larger one together. One of the best ways to make sure you use your closet space is to use temporary organizers, such as baskets or hanging closet organizers. This makes it much easier to know exactly where everything is.

Use Your Wall Space: Your school may have rules about putting things on the walls, but there are a number of temporary wall adhesive based hooks which can be removed easily from the walls when you move out. These can be used as hooks alone for hanging towels and jackets, or you can use them to hang a dowel rod across the walls to hang other items from.

Raise the Bed: While some schools may restrict what type of furniture you may bring, bunk beds and loft beds can certainly help make up for a lack of square footage if you are permitted to have them. By lifting the bed up in the air, you can either fit two beds in one spot, or use the space below for other uses. If you're absolutely stuck with beds the school provides, use dorm bed risers or concrete blocks to raise them and give you extra storage under the bed.

You don't have to sacrifice on style or the things you bring with you on campus when it comes to storage ideas for college dorms. With a little creativity, you'll be able to fit in to your new room easily and comfortably!

Storage Ideas For College Dorms
Trunk Coffee Tables

Wood Bookcases And Shelves Wall Shelves

Mission Trunk Cocktail Table

Special Price!!! Mission Trunk Cocktail Table

Nov 01, 2011 01:06:32

Mission Trunk Cocktail Table
Click for larger image and other views

Mission Trunk Cocktail Table

>> Click here to update Cheapest prices for Mission Trunk Cocktail Table <<

Mission Trunk Cocktail Table Feature

  • 37.75" W x 20.5" D x 18.5" H
  • Mission Oak Finish
  • Mission Styling
  • Lid opens for storage
  • Max weight - 250lbs; Assembly required


Mission Trunk Cocktail Table Overview

Superb mission styling and a beautiful oak stain are combined to create an elegant multipurpose storage table. As at home by the bed as it is in front of the couch, the lid lifts to reveal storage for pillows, blankets, books or shoes. If you want to rearrange or redecorate, this trunk table can be used as a bench also! With a prominent style, functional features and sheer beauty, this accent table is a no brainer.



SAVE NOW on the special offers below!

Available In Stock.

This Mission Trunk Cocktail Table ships for FREE with Super Saver Shipping.

Price : Click to Check Update Prices Please.

Mission Trunk Cocktail Table

Limited Offer Today!! Mission Trunk Cocktail Table Black Friday and Cyber Monday Deals

Rifle Scopes Tactical Toddler Dora Bed