Ring of Fire

The tectonic plates that float over the molten magma at the earth’s core under the Pacific Ocean provide the basis of the world’s largest zone of massive earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Killer quakes have reached unparalleled magnitudes, hundreds of times more violent than the devastation that recently rocked Haiti, releasing after-shocks and crushing tsunamis. The biggest ever recorded occurred in the same country, Chile, where the February 27^th 8.8 shaker decimated hundreds of miles from the epicenter, about 385 miles southwest from that nation’s capital of Santiago (the epicenter of Haiti’s quake was just 15 miles from the capital city). On May 12, 1960, a shattering 9.5 earthquake struck basically the same area, killing an estimated 1,655 people, rendering 2 million homele ss, sending killer tsunamis to ply their devastation across the Pacific, taking lives as far away as Japan and Hawaii.

According to local estimates, the February 27^th quake is currently projected to take over 700 Chilean lives (compared to Haiti’s 220,000 deaths), seriously injuring a multiple of that, displacing over 1.5 million, with tsunamis that raced across the Pacific, sending waves across the “rim” (causing no major damage, fortunately). The regional shock was so strong that buildings were evacuated in Buenos Aires, Argentina… over 700 miles away. Infrastructure crumbled, buildings collapsed, magnitude 6 to 6.9 mega-aftershocks trembled and millions against face homelessness and incalculable suffering. Chile’s President declared the nation to be in a “state of catastrophe.” Chile has its share of poor citizens, but unlike Haiti (the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere where most buildings are ramshackle or shoddily built ), it is a relatively rich and prosperous South American country; yet it too will have difficulty affording the cost of rebuilding and recovering to find a sunny day again. Older buildings fared the worst, of course, but unlike Haiti, modern building codes probably helped keep the toll of death and destruction to a much less devastating level.

The Ring of Fire, which embraces the entire American west coast, from Alaska to California and across the ocean to Hawaii, has a history of terrible natural disasters. 80% of the earth’s earthquakes – and 90% of the really big ones – have hit this region. There are 752 known active and dormant volcanoes (75% of all the volcanoes in the world) that have exploded throughout the Ring region; remember Mount St. Helens (Oregon) bringing us the largest recorded eruption in the 48 contiguous states in 1980? Big quakes hit California all the time (although an 8.8 is slightly beyond the maximum risk assigned by seismologists to our San Andreas Fault), huge ones smash Alaska at will. On March 27, 1964, a magnitude 9.2 quake hit the Anchorage area, killing 131 people in this sparsely populated state, leveling entire towns in the process.

These are numbers, history and facts. But hundreds of millions of people – I’m one of them – choose to live on a set of faults, cracks and seismic instability that truly plague no other place on this planet remotely to this extent. “The next most seismic region (5–6% of earthquakes and 17% of the world's largest earthquakes) is the Alpide belt, which extends from Java to Sumatra through the Himalayas, the Mediterranean, and out into the Atlantic.” Wikipedia. Are we crazy? Begging for it? Tempting fate? How about people living in hurricane country? Them too?

Clearly the early settlers to each segment of this Ring of Fire region (home to some pretty ancient societies) had no idea of the danger. Some were lured by rich farmland, incredible mineral deposits, a treasure-trove of temperate climates (yes, we know the Ring extends into some pretty cold areas too), the richness of the Pacific Ocean and more than a few stellar views along the way. Most were just born there. Civilization dug in, building cities and towns, creating jobs, opportunities and hope throughout the region, lacking the seismic data and historical details of what might have led some to conclude that the risks of living on the Ring, particularly in the hyper-active and heavily populated areas like Chile, Japan, and California, were simply too great. Would we be willing to pack up and leave the Silicon Valley, the sprawl of modern Sa n Francisco and Los Angeles, the oil pipeline that crosses Alaska? Even the Winter Olympics sit in and around a magnificent port city, Vancouver, whose natural beauty and exceptional commercial harbor were actually caused by the seismic activity.

The question remains: who pays for the recovery? If people knowingly live in dangerous places, is it their problem? Let New Orleans sink into the Gulf as many believe it is destined to do. Screw Los Angeles and those crazies in California. Hey, we only spend hundreds of billions to rescue financial institutions from devastation of their own making! Rising tides are going to affect all coastal cities if global climate change predictions are remotely accurate. Americans have big hearts (the President has already pledged U.S. aid), ready to help people suffering from natural disasters all over the world, and I suspect we will most certainly help our own in times of crisis – from hurricanes to earthquakes to fires and mudslides to economic collapse. But right now, Haiti and Chile are center stage. They need our help.

I’m Peter Dekom, and we should all be in this world together; it’s too bad that it often takes tragedy to unite us.