The Jakarta Offshore Sailing ClubKrakatau Stories
Suggested reading: "KRAKATOA The day the world exploded 27 August 1883". Author Simon Winchester Viking Books 2003, ISBN 0-670-91428-2 Nude Surfing in Semangka Bay It is impossible for those of us fortunate enough to cruise Sunda Strait and visit the Krakatau group of islands, not to wonder what it was like during and after the Krakatau explosion in August 1883, or quietly shudder as we anchor in the shadow of the violently torn north face of Rakata Island. We've all read accounts of the explosion and subsequent tsunamis, but recently Andrew Slatter was good enough to provide the Newsletter with a whole collection of Krakatau tales, which may make interesting reading for Sunda Strait yachties. This month's story is a report by the then "Controller" of a village on the northern end of Semangka Bay, one P.L.C. Le Sueur: At 6 o'clock I went to the beach. The sea was so low that many cliffs were visible. It looked queer and I did not feel at ease. I called for van Zuylen, my assistant, so that we could draw up a report to the resident about what had happened. It was just past 7 and the lights were on. A moment later van Zuylen said "I am sorry, but I would like to stop for a moment. I don't feel at ease". Scarcely were those words uttered when we heard a terrible noise. The, women and children fled from their houses shouting "The water is coming. The water is coming". Van Zuylen, the servant and I left the house in a hurry and invited everyone to take shelter in my house, which they accepted. I did so because my house was built on piles and situated on a hill. The water once again returned to the sea Everybody calmed down. But only for a short while because, almost at once, we heard the water approaching again with a terrible noise. 200-300 people were sheltering in my house. I walked from one side to another to maintain peace and quiet. Suddenly I heard the front portion of the house collapse, and the water rushed in. I advised everyone to go to the rear. But, my God, scarcely was I standing than the house collapsed completely and the current dragged all of us along. I got hold of a shelf with which I floated along until I was pulled by the legs and let go of the shelf. After that I got hold of a few pieces of thin wood and managed to stay afloat until the water returned to the sea and I felt solid ground under my feet. However, I stayed where I was and covered my head with my coat to protect myself against the mud rain. I heard men, women and children call for help, but any help was impossible. I could not raise myself out of weakness and fear and could not see a thing. Suddenly the water returned with the same force. I said a quick prayer, asking for help for everybody, and myself and prepared myself for death. The water took hold of me, turned me around, and threw me away with terrible force. Then I got stuck between two floating houses. I couldn't breath anymore and I thought that the end was come. But suddenly they parted and I got hold of a banana trunk and stuck to it with all my strength. I don't know how long I floated around, but again the water returned to the sea and once again I stood on solid ground. Again I sat there for at least an hour without moving and it was dark everywhere and the mud rain was still going on. I did hear people shout, but that was all. A moment later I heard a native talking to a few women. I called out to them and proposed we walk along together, which was accepted. I left my place with closed eyes and touched the ground all around, leaving the sea behind me. I did not have any clothes on anymore, except a vest which was badly torn anyway, so I walked stark naked in the cold and mud rain. Soon I discovered that the thee persons had departed, as I did not hear them anymore (with a streaker around was it any wonder! Ed). I would have given a thousand guilders if I could only have found my previous place, as where I was walking now the ground was covered with thorns and nasty bushes, and all the time I fell over trees and the debris of houses. Walking along for some time, I at least heard voices again. I opened my eyes and saw a native with some women. I told them I was the Controller, and together we reached Penenggoenga (15 km NW of Beneawang) that evening at 8 o'clock. My ordeal had lasted from 8 in the morning until 8 in the evening.
Run for your life I had heard the deafening reports from Krakatao on Sunday afternoon, and had seen later the dense black smoke and the glare of the fiery light resting on the summit of the volcano. Still, we all hoped for the best. But on the following morning, when the darkness remained instead of light, and the shower of ashes increased, I grew more alarmed. It seemed to me that if matters got worse we should be completely buried by falling lava, like some of the places in old times were, and that a dreadful death awaited us if we remained in town. I therefore felt it best to get as far away from Krakatao as possible. It was still quite early when I decided on making for the neighboring hills several miles distant. I had a number of relations living in town, but they seemed to fancy themselves safe enough at home, and they accordingly remained behind. I never saw any of them again alive. Five of them perished and worst of all, only two of their bodies were recovered. These were found buried beneath the ruined houses in which they met their end, and were scarcely recognizable. The others must have been carried out to sea, and probably formed part of the many hundreds seen later on floating in the Straits of Soenda by the captains of passing vessels. I had not proceeded a great distance from Anjer when the first volcanic wave broke upon the coast. Of course, even that one was terrible enough, but it was nothing to be compared with the second one which followed a little later. I could see that the town had been seriously injured by inundations, and no doubt some life's were lost in that first overflow. Alarmed by what I had already noticed, I quickened my place inland. The farther from the coast, I thought the safer I should be, and so it proved. The site of Anjer is, for the most part, very level ground: but four or five miles away are some hills, densely covered with cocoa-nut and palm trees. these formed a pretty background to the town. I decided to make for this rising ground as fast as I possibly could. As I proceeded I found some of my neighbors from Anjer making for the same spot. Some of them were fortunately enough to reach this place of safety before the final destruction came. Others whom I passed along the way were overtaken by the second wave, or rushing torrent and at once found a watery grave. Breathless with running I came as fast as possible up the densely wooded slopes, and was only just in time. the great wave, sweeping all before it, was close on my heels as the rising ground brought me safely out of its reach. Its fury was much spent as it broke upon the hills, but it was very powerful even then. But the higher ground soon checked its force, and send it back again towards the sea. Of the actual destruction I saw but little. I was too much frightened to stop and watch the ruin it caused. My one idea was to get as high up as I was able and of course I thought of nothing else at the time. There were some terrible scenes afterwards on the roads leading into the interior of the island. All the natives in the neighboring kampongs turned against us, and refused those of us who had escaped the least help of food. Many of the Europeans- especially the women- exhausted with fatigue, and almost frightened out of their lives, were sinking down in a helpless state by the wayside. Although the worst was over as regards the volcanic wave, many sank down and died by the road from exhaustion and neglect. Not only did many of the natives refuse to help us in the least, but they actually drove us fiercely from their houses. The reason of that was that....The Javanese are exceedingly superstitious, and attributed their misfortunes to us.
Saved by a cocoa-nut tree I have lived in Anjer all my life, and little thought the old town would have been destroyed in the way it has. I am getting on in years, and quite expected to have laid my bones in the little cemetery near the shore, but not even that has escaped, and some of the bodies have actually been washed out of their graves and carried of to sea. The whole town has been swept away and I have lost everything except my life. The wonder is that I escaped at all. I can never be too thankful for such a miraculous escape as I had. The eruption began on the Sunday afternoon. We did not take much notice first until the reports grew very loud. Then we noticed that Krakatau was completely enveloped in smoke. Afterwards came on the thick darkness, so black and intense that I could not see my hands in front of my eyes. Towards the night everything became worse. The reports became deafening the natives covered down cowered down panic stricken, and a fiery glare was visible in the sky above the burning mountain. Although Krakatau was 25 miles away, the concussion and vibration from the constantly repeated shocks was most terrifying. Many of the houses shook so much that we feared every minute would bring them down. There was little sleep for any of us that dreadful night. Before daybreak on Monday, on going out of doors, I found the shower of ashes had commenced, and this gradually increased in force until at length large pieces of pumice-stone kept falling aground. About six a.m. I was walking along the beach. there was no sign of the sun, as usual, and the sky had a dull, depressing look. Some of the darkness of the previous day had cleared off, but it was not very light even then. Looking out to sea I noticed a dark black object through the gloom, traveling towards the shore. At first it seemed like a low range of hills rising out of the water, but I knew there was nothing of that kind in that part of Soenda Strait. A second glance- and a very hurried one it was - convinced me that it was a lofty ridge of water many feet high, and worse still, it would soon break on the coast near the town. There was no time to give any warning, and so I turned and ran for my life. My running days have long gone, but you may be sure that I did my best. In a few minutes I heard the water with a loud roar break upon the shore. Everything was engulfed. Another glance around showed the houses being swept away and the trees thrown down on every side. Breathless and exhausted I still pressed on . As I heard the rushing waters behind me, I knew that it was a race for life. Struggling on , a few yards brought me to some rising ground, and here the torrent of water overtook me. I gave up all for lost, as I saw with dismay how high the waves still was. I was soon taken off my feet and born inland by the force of the restless mass. I remember nothing more until a violent blow aroused me. Some hard firm substance seemed within my reach, and clutching it I found I had gained a place of safety. The water swept past, and I found myself clinging to a cocoanut palm-tree. Most of the trees near the town were uprooted and thrown down for miles, but this one fortunately had escaped and myself with it. The huge wave rolled o, gradually decreasing in height and strength until the mountain slopes at the back of Anjer were reached, and then, its furry spent, the waters gradually receded and flowed back into the sea. the sight of those receding water haunts me still. As I clung to the palm tree, wet and exhausted, there floated past the dead bodies of many a friend and neighbor. Only a mere handful of the population escaped. Houses and streets were completely destroyed and scarcely a trace remains of where the once busy, thriving town originally stood. Unless you go yourself to see the ruin you will never believe how completely the place has been swept away. Dead bodies, fallen trees, wrecked houses, an immense muddy morass and great pools of water, are all that is left of the town where my life has been spent. My home and all my belongings of course perished- but I am thankful enough to have escaped with my life, and to be none the worse for all that I have passed through
The Wave Strikes Merak At Merak, a Javanese survivor gave the following account of the giant waves which hit the west coast of Java as a result of the volcanic eruptions at Krakatau on August 27r'', 1883: "I was working a long way from the sea -,four or five paalen (5 - 6 . kilometers) from the coast. A lot of other natives were with me in the paddee field. We were cultivating rice, we had gone to work as usual, in spite of the volcano, we did not think it would hit us. And all of a sudden there came a great noise. We looked round at once and saw a great black thing, a long way off, coming towards us. It was very high and strong, and we soon saw that it was water: Trees and houses were washed away as it came along. The people near began to cry out and run for their lives. Not far off was some steep sloping, ground. We all ran towards it and tried to climb up out of the way of the water. It was too quick for most of them, and many were drowned almost at my side. I managed to get a long way up, and then the water came very near to me. When I thought I was safe I looked back and saw the wave wash people down one after the other as they tried to scramble out of its way. There was a general rush to climb up in one particular place. This caused a great block, and many of them got wedged together and could not move. Then they struggled and fought, screaming and crying out all the time. Those below tried to make those above them move on again by biting their heels. A great struggle took place for a few moments, but it was soon over. One after another they were washed down and carried far away by the rushing waters, You can see the marks on the side of the hill where this fight for life took place. Some of those who were washed off dragged others with them. They would not let go their hold, nor could those above them release themselves from this death-grip. Many were high enough up to have altogether escaped if they had not thus been dragged down by their unfortunate companions.†|
