"If you go beach and all da watah rush out leaving all da fish behind, run like crazy da odda way foah da mountain and no look back."  That seemed to be all I heard when I visited the Big Island of Hawaii with my mother where she grew up as a child.

Tsunamis and volcanic eruptions were part of my childhood world view that formed during visits to my grandparents and relatives on the Big Island.  This was understandable given the number of earthquakes, eruptions, and tsunamis that had taken place by then.  I was probably five years old when I first heard about the 1946 tsunami that smashed into Hawaii from the Aleutian Islands.  Later the devastation of the 1960 tsunami, especially in Hilo, just seemed to increase the need of my family to impress upon us kids the need for serious caution.

As a result, one of the first things I learned as a child was never to run out onto the reef if the water receded unusually quickly and never be tempted by the stranded fish there.  It was a common theme through all the tsunami stories I heard starting with my mother.  In fact, the earliest recorded such incident in Hawaii was in 1837 when 62 people in Hilo lured by fish trapped on the reef by receding waters died as the tsunami came rushing in.

While my relatives would take my cousins and me to the usual sightseeing spots on Kilauea Volcano, sunny Kona, and tropical Puna, they made sure we saw the still-present traces of devastation in downtown Hilo, and of course, the point in Laupahoehoe.

In Laupahoehoe, the 1946 tsunami was especially tragic because of the number of children who perished largely due to that reason.  Early in the morning of April 1st, April Fool's Day (probably the worst day to have a disaster), children were just arriving for school, some going to play and chat in the open fields near the school.  Just before 7 a.m., the first tsunami wave arrived causing great excitement, but it, like the second wave, was non-fatal, and instead, exposed the reef and cast fish high up on land, delighting the children who rushed down to the reef and attracting the teachers who came running out to see what the excitement was about.

The third largest and deadly wave and successive waves came in with a vengeance, obliterating two teachers' cottages while carrying the other two 150 meters inland diagonally across the point into the coconut trees near the school's pig farm.  Grandstand bleachers in the field, workshop building, and restrooms were demolished at one fell swoop creating dangerous projectile debris along with loose rocks from nearby walls.  Survivors described the center of the peninsula as "boiling" as the waters rushed in from either side of the peninsula sweeping the children running desperately to escape out to sea.

Those higher up on the cliffs could only watch helplessly as the victims were overcome by the force of the water or carried out to sea.  The devastation not only at Laupahoehoe but also up and down the Hamakua Coast included many of the fishing boats and water craft that could save those still floating in the water.  Help would not come for hours.  The only seaworthy craft nearby was a boat in Kuka'iau whose owner was reluctant to risk destruction in the rough seas.  Once he was finally persuaded to attempt search and rescue, the boat still had to be cut and fitted with a motor taking more valuable time.

Twenty-four people, (sixteen* students, four* teachers, and a family of four), lost their lives that day in Laupahoehoe.  Of those swept out to sea, the records show that only seven managed to survive.  Two boys were pulled off a lau hala (pandanus) tree by the same boat that saved a teacher, Marsue McGinnis.  After she spent several hours in the water clinging to a door, McGinnis was lucky enough to have been spotted by a plane that dropped her a life raft which she used until the boat arrived.  Eventually, she married one of her rescuers, Dr. Leabert Fernandez.

Herbert Nishimoto and two male high school classmates also received a raft with paddles from a plane when they were found floating on a makeshift raft six hours after being swept out to sea, but they would not be saved until nearly a day later.  At Niuli'i off the coast of North Kohala more than 56 kilometers north of Laupahoehoe, two strong swimmers went out to retrieve the raft as the boys were too weak to swim to shore themselves.  Just before that, a woman, Lucille Akiona, was rescued nearby by a plane having clung the entire time to a door.

April Fool's Day in 1946 came to represent the loss of a generation of youth as well as the tragic passing of nearly an entire family, and it's hard to imagine the impact it must have had on the small close-knit community of Laupahoehoe.

If you have a chance to visit the Pacific Tsunami Museum in Hilo, you can learn more about the 1946 tsunami's impact not only on Laupahoehoe but also Hilo and other locations. 

(More on Laupahoehoe in Part Two.  Sources given in Part Three.) 

(*Note:  I personally found it difficult to pin down the number of casualties resulting from the 1946 tsunami in Laupahoehoe.  The total number ranges from 20 to 35 depending what you read, with the phrase "23 students and 4 teachers" most commonly quoted, but nearly none of articles, especially on the Internet, quote the sources of information.  There are even some differences between the various accounts in the oral histories and news articles about the 1946 tsunami in Laupahoehoe, so I decided to use the information on the Laupahoehoe Tsunami Monument.)

(*Note continued:  Dedicated to the deceased, the Laupahoehoe Tsunami Monument is inscribed with the names and ages of exactly twenty-four people.  Out of the adults, four were teachers, and one, Florence Nakano, was the wife of a teacher.  Her three children including a three-month old baby also perished in the tsunami.  The remaining sixteen victims were students between the ages of 10 to 17.)

©  Lawrence Taguma   All rights reserved.