crazyscot

There hadn't been much seismic activity here really since January, but over the past few weeks there had been a handful of noticeable shakes. Then, this afternoon, the building shook for 15 or 20 seconds. 5.2. Quite sporting, really. There was no damage that I was aware of; frankly, anything that's not screwed down or hasn't already fallen down in this town isn't exactly going to budge for a "mere" 5.2!

We went to the grave site for the victims of the February 2011 earthquake.

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I had been contemplating writing something up to mark the anniversary (this Wednesday) of the big quake that took out half the CBD. The other day the Press (our regional newspaper, Christchurch and South Island) solicited people's memories of that day. To my pleasant surprise, they found mine interesting enough to publish!

• Special feature section (mine's under The Future - scroll down)
  
• My article itself

( This is what I submitted, for posterity. They very lightly copy-edited it for publication. )

The tea that I abandoned on my desk on the 23rd had been half-shaken out of the mug by the main (more violent) quake which struck later. The old Subway serviette that it was sticking on was a mass of tea-stained dried-out mush. There was a trail of tea stain running along the desk.

Most horrid of all was how what was left in the mug looked, and the smell. Yes, it had started to evolve. No, I'm not going to describe it further - well, not in plain, anyway. If you must un-rot13 this, don't say I didn't warn you! Gur fhesnpr unq tbar orlbaq sbezvat n fxva naq ybbxrq yvxr n onq cynfgrevat wbo. Gurer jnf n oybo bs zbhyq. Gur fzryy jnf cnegvphyneyl sehvgl. (Url, V xarj fbzrobql jbhyq jnag gb xabj.)

On the first day of Christmas, my faultline gave to me...
A magnitude six point three[*].
...
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my faultline gave to me...
12 student helpers
11 silted gardens
10 crashing rockfalls
9 stinking dust clouds
8 broken glasses
7 munted sewers
6 fallen chimneys
Li-que-fac-tion!
Four deep sinkholes
Three scared kids
Two big aftershocks
and
A magnitude six point three[*].

[*] - poetic license, it was only 6.0 this time around but I needed to make it rhyme !

Thanks to pellegrina for the germ of the idea :-)

Dark humour perhaps, but if one doesn't laugh at these events one would surely cry...( Read more... )

It sounds like a set of scores from an Olympic event.

Sadly, those are the magnitudes of the earthquakes we have had this afternoon.

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1:58pm local time. A significant earthquake, the worst we've felt. Mw 5.8.
3:20pm. Another significant quake, seemed shorter but more violent than the first.

There have been many aftershocks which have been alarming in their own right. We are fine, if shaken up. Will post more when I'm feeling more coherent.

CERA have opened up a temporary walkway between Cathedral Square and the temporary container mall on Cashel Street for a couple of weekends.

We had been there in February, in what were happier times for Canterbury. We had just arrived on South Island that morning, checked into our motel and had gone for a walk into town. We sat in the shade and looked over to the tram stop and where the cycling brass band had played that (Sunday) afternoon. We stared up sadly at what's left of the now-deconsecrated cathedral which is to be pulled down. We looked to the north and realised that we were looking at the row of buildings behind those on the north side of the square, which are no more.

I'm not religious, but seeing the Cathedral - a powerful symbol of the city whichever way you look at it - in its half-collapsed state was a wrench. Construction work to get the CBD back on its, ah, foundations is progressing, but if you ask me it can't happen quickly enough.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/crazyscot/sets/72157628257981455/detail/

Apropos yesterday's post it seems I may have, ah, spoken too soon.

Picture the scene. It's about half past eight and you're just about to serve up dinner. Suddenly you become aware of a relatively loud rumbling - it's pervasive, apparently coming from all directions and none in particular, and getting louder. You and your partner look at each other. The lights start swaying quite seriously and as you both dive for the cover of the dining room table you hear the crockery in the cupboards rattle.

So now you're both sat under the table and it's Still. Going. On. The rumbling is continuing and the (solid) floor seems to be rolling gently. You exchange unprintable exclamations.

Finally, after what could have been 15 or 30 seconds, it all dies down. You both take a deep breath, get up, dust yourselves down, dance the Earthquake Dance (well, you've got to have some pre-arranged way to relieve the nervous tension, otherwise you'd cry) and go serve up dinner. A toast, to the seismic levels going down, not up.

That was the strongest quake we've felt to date. Geonet call it as Mw 5.5. Nothing seems to have broken, but I'm starting to understand why people - particularly young families - have left and are continuing to leave town.