The Tale of Hamaguchi Gohei and the Tsunami

Posted April 9, 2011 by SCBWI Japan Translation Group in Japanese Children's Literature Introduced, Tohoku
Children's Literature Introduced. Tagged: Lafcadio Hearn, Sako Ikegami. 6 Comments

By Sako Ikegami, Kobe

The March 11, 2011, earthquake and tsunami in Tohoku were the latest of many to pound the region and Japan as a
whole. Literature from Japan refers to many such events that came before. Here is an example from the writings of
Lafcadio Hearn, also known as Koizumi Yakumo (1850-1904). It is a tale for the young and old alike.
***
Excerpt from Lafcardio Hearn’s Gleanings in Buddha-Fields I. A Living God
Now concerning Hamaguchi.
From immemorial time the shores of Japan have been swept, at irregular intervals of centuries, by enormous tidal
waves,—tidal waves caused by earthquakes or by submarine volcanic action. These awful sudden risings of the sea
are called by the Japanese tsunami. The last one occurred on the evening of June 17, 1896, when a wave nearly two
hundred miles long struck the northeastern provinces of Miyagi, Iwaté, and Aomori, wrecking scores of towns and
villages, ruining whole districts, and destroying nearly thirty thousand human lives. The story of Hamaguchi Gohei is
the story of a like calamity which happened long before the era of Meiji, on another part of the Japanese coast.
He was an old man at the time of the occurrence that made him famous. He was the most influential resident of the
village to which he belonged: he had been for many years itsmuraosa, or headman; and he was not less liked than
respected. The people usually called him Ojiisan, which means Grandfather; but, being the richest member of the
community, he was sometimes officially referred to as the Chôja. He used to advise the smaller farmers about their
interests, to arbitrate their disputes, to advance them money at need, and to dispose of their rice for them on the
best terms possible.
Hamaguchi’s big thatched farmhouse stood at the verge of a small plateau overlooking a bay. The plateau, mostly
devoted to rice culture, was hemmed in on three sides by thickly wooded summits. From its outer verge the land
sloped down in a huge green concavity, as if scooped out, to the edge of the water; and the whole of this slope, some
three quarters of a mile long, was so terraced as to look, when viewed from the open sea, like an enormous flight of
green steps, divided in the centre by a narrow white zigzag—a streak of mountain road. Ninety thatched dwellings
and a Shintô temple, composing the village proper, stood along the curve of the bay; and other houses climbed
straggling up the slope for some distance on either side of the narrow road leading to the Chôja’s home.
One autumn evening Hamaguchi Gohei was looking down from the balcony of his house at some preparations for a
merry-making in the village below. There had been a very fine rice-crop, and the peasants were going to celebrate
their harvest by a dance in the court of theujigami.[1] The old man could see the festival banners (nobori) fluttering
above the roofs of the solitary street, the strings of paper lanterns festooned between bamboo poles, the decorations
of the shrine, and the brightly colored gathering of the young people. He had nobody with him that evening but his
little grandson, a lad of ten; the rest of the household having gone early to the village. He would have accompanied
them had he not been feeling less strong than usual.
The day had been oppressive; and in spite of a rising breeze there was still in the air that sort of heavy heat which,
according to the experience of the Japanese peasant, at certain seasons precedes an earthquake. And presently an
earthquake came. It was not strong enough to frighten anybody; but Hamaguchi, who had felt hundreds of shocks in
his time, thought it was queer,—a long, slow, spongy motion. Probably it was but the after-tremor of some immense
seismic action very far away. The house crackled and rocked gently several times; then all became still again.
As the quaking ceased Hamaguchi’s keen old eyes were anxiously turned toward the village. It often happens that the
attention of a person gazing fixedly at a particular spot or object is suddenly diverted by the sense of something not
knowingly seen at all,—by a mere vague feeling of the unfamiliar in that dim outer circle of unconscious perception
which lies beyond the field of clear vision. Thus it chanced that Hamaguchi became aware of something unusual in
the offing. He rose to his feet, and looked at the sea. It had darkened quite suddenly, and it was acting strangely. It
seemed to be moving against the wind. It was running away from the land.
Within a very little time the whole village had noticed the phenomenon. Apparently no one had felt the previous
motion of the ground, but all were evidently astounded by the movement of the water. They were running to the
beach, and even beyond the beach, to watch it.
No such ebb had been witnessed on that coast within the memory of living man. Things never seen before were
making apparition; unfamiliar spaces of ribbed sand and reaches of weed-hung rock were left bare even as
Hamaguchi gazed. And none of the people below appeared to guess what that monstrous ebb signified.
Hamaguchi Gohei himself had never seen such a thing before; but he remembered things told him in his childhood by
his father’s father, and he knew all the traditions of the coast. He understood what the sea was going to do. Perhaps
he thought of the time needed to send a message to the village, or to get the priests of the Buddhist temple on the
hill to sound their big bell. . . . But it would take very much longer to tell what he might have thought than it took him
to think. He simply called to his grandson:—“Tada!—quick,—very quick! . . . Light me a torch.”
Taimatsu, or pine-torches, are kept in many coast dwellings for use on stormy nights, and also for use at certain
Shintô festivals. The child kindled a torch at once; and the old man hurried with it to the fields, where hundreds of
rice-stacks, representing most of his invested capital, stood awaiting transportation. Approaching those nearest the
verge of the slope, he began to apply the torch to them,—hurrying from one to another as quickly as his aged limbs
could carry him. The sun-dried stalks caught like tinder; the strengthening sea, breeze blew the blaze landward; and
presently, rank behind rank, the stacks burst into flame, sending skyward columns of smoke that met and mingled
into one enormous cloudy whirl. Tada, astonished and terrified, ran after his grandfather, crying,—”Ojiisan! why?
Ojiisan! why?—why?”
But Hamaguchi did not answer: he had no time to explain; he was thinking only of the four hundred lives in peril. For
a while the child stared wildly at the blazing rice; then burst into tears, and ran back to the house, feeling sure that
his grandfather had gone mad. Hamaguchi went on firing stack after stack, till he had reached the limit of his field;
then he threw down his torch, and waited. The acolyte of the hill-temple, observing the blaze, set the big bell
booming; and the people responded to the double appeal. Hamaguchi watched them hurrying in from the sands and
over the beach and up from the village, like a swarming of ants, and, to his anxious eyes, scarcely faster; for the
moments seemed terribly long to him. The sun was going down; the wrinkled bed of the bay, and a vast sallow
speckled expanse beyond it, lay naked to the last orange glow; and still the sea was fleeing toward the horizon.
Really, however, Hamaguchi did not have very long to wait before the first party of succor arrived,—a score of agile
young peasants, who wanted to attack the fire at once. But the Chôja, holding out both arms, stopped them.
“Let it burn, lads!” he commanded, “let it be! I want the whole mura here. There is a great danger,—taihen da!“
The whole village was coming; and Hamaguchi counted. All the young men and boys were soon on the spot, and not
a few of the more active women and girls; then came most of the older folk, and mothers with babies at their backs,
and even children,—for children could help to pass water; and the elders too feeble to keep up with the first rush
could be seen well on their way up the steep ascent. The growing multitude, still knowing nothing, looked alternately,
in sorrowful wonder, at the flaming fields and at the impassive face of their Chôja. And the sun went down.
“Grandfather is mad,—I am afraid of him!” sobbed Tada, in answer to a number of questions. “He is mad. He set fire
to the rice on purpose: I saw him do it!”
“As for the rice,” cried Hamaguchi, “the child tells the truth. I set fire to the rice. . . . Are all the people here?”
The Kumi-chô and the heads of families looked about them, and down the hill, and made reply: “All are here, or very
soon will be. . . . We cannot understand this thing.”
“Kita!” shouted the old man at the top of his voice, pointing to the open. “Say now if I be mad!”
Through the twilight eastward all looked, and saw at the edge of the dusky horizon a long, lean, dim line like the
shadowing of a coast where no coast ever was,—a line that thickened as they gazed, that broadened as a coast-line
broadens to the eyes of one approaching it, yet incomparably more quickly. For that long darkness was the returning
sea, towering like a cliff, and coursing more swiftly than the kite flies.
“Tsunami!” shrieked the people; and then all shrieks and all sounds and all power to hear sounds were annihilated by
a nameless shock heavier than any thunder, as the colossal swell smote the shore with a weight that sent a shudder
through the hills, and with a foam-burst like a blaze of sheet-lightning. Then for an instant nothing was visible but a
storm of spray rushing up the slope like a cloud; and the people scattered back in panic from the mere menace of it.
When they looked again, they saw a white horror of sea raving over the place of their homes. It drew back roaring,
and tearing out the bowels of the land as it went. Twice, thrice, five times the sea struck and ebbed, but each time
with lesser surges: then it returned to its ancient bed and stayed,—still raging, as after a typhoon.
On the plateau for a time there was no word spoken. All stared speechlessly at the desolation beneath,—the
ghastliness of hurled rock and naked riven cliff, the bewilderment of scooped-up deep-sea wrack and shingle shot
over the empty site of dwelling and temple. The village was not; the greater part of the fields were not; even the
terraces had ceased to exist; and of all the homes that had been about the bay there remained nothing recognizable
except two straw roofs tossing madly in the offing. The after-terror of the death escaped and the stupefaction of the
general loss kept all lips dumb, until the voice of Hamaguchi was heard again, observing gently,—”That was why I set
fire to the rice.”
He, their Chôja, now stood among them almost as poor as the poorest; for his wealth was gone—but he had saved
four hundred lives by the sacrifice. Little Tada ran to him, and caught his hand, and asked forgiveness for having said
naughty things. Whereupon the people woke up to the knowledge of why they were alive, and began to wonder at
the simple, unselfish foresight that had saved them; and the headmen prostrated themselves in the dust before
Hamaguchi Gohei, and the people after them.
Then the old man wept a little, partly because he was happy, and partly because he was aged and weak and had
been sorely tried.
“My house remains,” he said, as soon as he could find words, automatically caressing Tada’s brown cheeks; “and
there is room for many. Also the temple on the hill stands; and there is shelter there for the others.”
Then he led the way to his house; and the people cried and shouted.
The period of distress was long, because in those days there were no means of quick communication between district
and district, and the help needed had to be sent from far away. But when better times came, the people did not
forget their debt to Hamaguchi Gohei. They could not make him rich; nor would he have suffered them to do so, even
had it been possible. Moreover, gifts could never have sufficed as an expression of their reverential feeling towards
him; for they believed that the ghost within him was divine. So they declared him a god, and thereafter called him
Hamaguchi DAIMYÔJIN, thinking they could give him no greater honor;—and truly no greater honor in any country
could be given to mortal man. And when they rebuilt the village, they built a temple to the spirit of him, and fixed
above the front of it a tablet bearing his name in Chinese text of gold; and they worshiped him there, with prayer and
with offerings. How he felt about it I cannot say;—I know only that he continued to live in his old thatched home upon
the hill, with his children and his children’s children, just as humanly and simply as before, while his soul was being
worshiped in the shrine below. A hundred years and more he has been dead; but his temple, they tell me, still stands,
and the people still pray to the ghost of the good old farmer to help them in time of fear or trouble.
. . .
I asked a Japanese philosopher and friend to explain to me how the peasants could rationally imagine the spirit of
Hamaguchi in one place while his living body was in another. Also I inquired whether it was only one of his souls
which they had worshiped during his life, and whether they imagined that particular soul to have detached itself from
the rest to receive homage.
“The peasants,” my friend answered, think of the mind or spirit of a person as something which, even during life, can
be in many places at the same instant. . . . Such an idea is, of course, quite different from Western ideas about the
soul.”
“Any more rational?” I mischievously asked.
“Well,” he responded, with a Buddhist smile, “if we accept the doctrine of the unity of all mind, the idea of the
Japanese peasant would appear to contain at least some adumbration of truth. I could not say so much for your
Western notions about the soul.”
***
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Five Years after 3.11,
The Tale of Hamaguchi
Gohei Resonates
Posted March 11, 2016 by SCBWI Japan Translation
Group in Japanese Children's Literature
Introduced, Tohoku Children's Literature Introduced.
Tagged: Lafcadio Hearn, Sako Ikegami. Leave a
Comment
By Sally Ito, Winnipeg, Canada
Today is the five-year anniversary of the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, also called the Great
East Japan Earthquake of 2011, or 3.11.
Not long after this disaster struck five years ago, I arrived in Japan for four months with my family
while my husband taught English literature as a visiting scholar at Kwansei Gakuin University in
Nishinomiya, near Kobe. A few people at home in Canada worried about us going to Japan at such
a time. Because of widespread media reports of the disaster, there was a general feeling of panic
and unease about the country, even though the area where we were going was unaffected.
However, Nishinomiya was not necessarily any safer than Tokyo or Tohoku; it was affected by the
Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995. Not far from the house we lived in was a memorial
commemorating citizens of the area who had perished in that disaster. If you live in Japan, it is
impossible not to be affected at one time or another by earthquakes, floods, landslides, or
tsunamis. But who can really be prepared for such events? As sophisticated as our technology has
become, we still know neither ‘the hour nor the day’ of a disaster’s coming.
What the Japanese do have is their lore of such events, which helps people come to terms with the
fickle nature of the geo-physical forces in their environment. Take, for example, the Tale of
Hamaguchi Gohei and the Tsunami by Lafcadio Hearn, posted here by translator Sako Ikegami. In
this tale, a wizened old village chieftain manages by intuition and quick-thinking to save villagers
from certain death. After this post ran in April of 2011, the inaugural year of this blog, it became
the third-most viewed post that year, and it continued to be viewed frequently, becoming the top-
most viewed post in 2013, 2014, 2015, and so far in 2016. It is the all-time most popular post on
this blog. I encourage you now to click the link and read the tale, to immerse yourself in the ‘hour
and the day’ of a disastrous event and its effect on the Japanese people.
The Tale of Hamaguchi Gohei and the Tsunami
Above: Gleanings in Buddha-Fields (1897) by Lafcadio Hearn is the source of the Hamaguchi
Gohei story. The text of this book is not in copyright. Cover image located here.
ABOUT GORYO HAMAGUCHI
Goryo Hamaguchi (濱口 梧陵 Hamaguchi Goryō?, June 15, 1820 – April 21, 1885) was the seventh
business owner of current Yamasa Corporation in Japan.

Altruistic activities[edit]
He saved the lives of many of his fellow villagers of Hiro, Kii Province (current Hirogawa, Wakayama), when
a massive tsunami struck the Kii Peninsula in 1854. He set fire to stacks of rice sheaves as landmarks to guide
villagers to safety. Lafcadio Hearn wrote a story about him in Gleanings in Buddha-Fields: Studies of Hand and Soul in
the Far East (1897), called "Inamura no Hi: The burning rice fields".[1] The story chronicled Goryo's heroism and
accounts of his efforts were also introduced into Japanese textbooks.
Hamaguchi participated in various recovery efforts in Hiro, including the construction of a sea wall more than 600
meters long, 20 meters wide and 5 meters high, which minimized damage from tsunamis in later years. He spent his
own money on the project (the equivalent of 1,572 ryō (gold coins)) and hired a total of 56,736 villagers to work on it.
In the field of education, Hamaguchi established a private academy for learning kendo (Japanese fencing)
and Chinese classics with Hamaguguchi Toko and Iwasaki Meigaku at the end of the Edo period. This private
academy was later called "Taikyu-Sha" and became the current Taikyu Junior High School after a few changes.

EARLY LIFE
The Hamaguchi family was known for a ruling family of Hiro-Mura in Arida country over the years. They are the
descendents of Yasutada of Taira who served the Lord Shiba in Owari (now called Aichi prefecture) and later
renounced his regular daily life to practice at the Hodoin Temple in Mt. Koya. During the Meio period (1492–1500), he
moved to Hro-Mura and became a believer of the ninth priest of Jitsunyo (Shonin) in the Honganji Temple sect. And
during the Eisho period (1504–1520), he became a Buddhist monk called Seiryo and opened his own center of
practice in Hiro-Mura.
His youngest son, Masaayoshi, took over his position to represent current Anraku-ji Temple in Hirogawa-cho. Yajiro
Sanekage, another son of Yasutada, started a new family and it marked the beginning of the Hagaguchi family. The
family engaged in soy sauce manufacturing business at the port of Choshi in Kamifusa (currently the northern part
of Chiba prefecture) during the Genroku period (1688–1703) under Tomonao’s watch. It was the foundation of
Yamasa Corporation. The family tradition of using Gihei for the head of Hamagichi family started after Tomonao’s
tenure.
Thanks to the geographical advantage of Chiba and other attributes related to soy sauce manufacturing, as well as
dedicated efforts by the members of Hamagichi family over the generations after the first Gehei, Yamasa’s business
flourished during the periods of Kyoho (1716–1735) and Houreki (1751–1763). Yamasa products were gaining
popularity and in a huge demand by people in Edo (now called Tokyo) because of its premier quality. During the
Bunsei period (1818–1829), the feudal government of Japan enforced its price control for almost all products.
However Yamasa products were exempted from governmental pricing control since its product quality was so superior
to others; the government even gave its highest honor to Yamasa as a soy sauce manufacture.
Shichiemon, a younger brother of the fourth Gihei and the first to carry that name, started a branch family under the
Hamagichi’s name. Since the second Shichiemon had no child, the younger brother of the fifth Gihei became the next
Shichiemon. The sixth Gihei had no child either and the first son of the third Shichiemon became a successor of the
original Hamaguchi family. He was Goryo Hamaguchi. Although he was adopted to the original Hamaguchi from its
branch family, the fifth Gihei was his grandfather and his stepfather was a real uncle of his. Therefore, the bloodline of
Hamaguchi is still intact.
The fifth Gihei, grandfather of Goryo with a great personality, was truly polite and showed his interest in variety of
things. He found time to study and enjoyed fine arts every time he could get away from his work. He mastered the
painting style of southern Chinese school under Kaiseki Noro and used “Kampo” as his signature. Goryo admired and
respected him and was well taken care of by him. In that regard, Goryo was very much influenced by his grandfather
in developing his own personality.
Goryo Hamaguchi was born on June 15, 1820 in Hiro-mura. He was raised by his biological mother Shin after his
father, the third Shichiemon, died at the age of 22 when he was 2 years old. In September 1831, he was adopted to
the original Hamaguchi family as a successor and renamed his name to “Gita”. He soon left Hiro-mura for Choshi
where he started learning the family business. The Hamaguchi family (Kichiemon) had house in Koami-cho, a Nihon-
bashi district of Edo, where he stayed for a while before coming to Choshi because it was an important place for its
business geographically (on the way to Choshi from Kishu). According to the Hamaguchi family creed, family
members were treated equally with other employees and were not allowed to fool around. One of the reasons was to
learn how to handle lots of problems and to learn how to deal with people. He was not an exception and slept in the
same room and ate the same dishes as other employees. Overcoming many hardships in his early ages, he dedicated
himself to the family business. At the age of 15, he celebrated his “Genko”, a ceremony to be recognized as an adult,
and renamed himself “Gitaro”. He put lots of efforts in practicing swordsmanship and studying the I Ching, as his
grandfather Kampo encouraged him. Kampo died in the autumn when he turned 18.

3.11 TSUNAMI
The 2011 earthquake off the Pacific coast of Tōhoku (東北地方太平洋沖地震 Tōhoku-chihō Taiheiyō Oki
Jishin?) was amagnitude 9.0 (Mw) undersea megathrust earthquake off the coast of Japan that occurred at
14:46 JST (05:46 UTC) on Friday 11 March 2011,[2][3][8] with the epicentre approximately 70 kilometres
(43 mi) east of the Oshika Peninsula of Tōhoku and the hypocenterat an underwater depth of
approximately 30 km (19 mi).[2][9] The earthquake is also often referred to in Japan as the Great East
Japan earthquake (東日本大震災 Higashi nihon daishinsai?)[10][11][12][fn 1] and also known as the 2011
Tohoku earthquake,[26] and the 3.11 earthquake. It was the most powerful earthquake ever recorded to
have hit Japan, and the fourth most powerful earthquake in the world since modern record-keeping began
in 1900.[8][27][28] The earthquake triggered powerful tsunami waves that reached heights of up to 40.5 metres
(133 ft) in Miyako in Tōhoku's Iwate Prefecture,[29][30] and which, in the Sendai area, travelled up to 10 km
(6 mi) inland.[31] The earthquake moved Honshu (the main island of Japan) 2.4 m (8 ft) east, shifted the
Earth on its axis by estimates of between 10 cm (4 in) and 25 cm (10 in),[32][33][34] and generated sound
waves detected by the low-orbiting GOCEsatellite.[35]
On 10 March 2015, a Japanese National Police Agency report confirmed 15,894 deaths,[36] 6,152
injured,[37] and 2,562 people missing[38] across twenty prefectures, as well as 228,863 people living away
from their home in either temporary housing or due to permanent relocation.[39] A 10 February 2014 agency
report listed 127,290 buildings totally collapsed, with a further 272,788 buildings 'half collapsed', and
another 747,989 buildings partially damaged.[40] The earthquake and tsunami also caused extensive and
severe structural damage in north-eastern Japan, including heavy damage to roads and railways as well as
fires in many areas, and a dam collapse.[31][41] Japanese Prime Minister Naoto Kan said, "In the 65 years
after the end of World War II, this is the toughest and the most difficult crisis for Japan." [42] Around
4.4 million households in northeastern Japan were left without electricity and 1.5 million without water.[43]
The tsunami caused nuclear accidents, primarily the level 7 meltdowns at three reactors in the Fukushima
Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant complex, and the associated evacuation zones affecting hundreds of
thousands of residents.[44][45] Many electrical generators were taken down, and at least three nuclear
reactors suffered explosions due to hydrogen gas that had built up within their outer containment buildings
after cooling system failure resulting from the loss of electrical power. Residents within a 20 km (12 mi)
radius of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant and a 10 km (6.2 mi) radius of the Fukushima Daini
Nuclear Power Plant were evacuated.
Early estimates placed insured losses from the earthquake alone at US$14.5 to $34.6 billion.[46] The Bank
of Japan offered¥15 trillion (US$183 billion) to the banking system on 14 March in an effort to normalize
market conditions.[47] The World Bank's estimated economic cost was US$235 billion, making it the costliest
natural disaster in world history.[4

WITNESSES OF 3.11 JAPAN TSUNAMI

A massive earthquake has hit the north-east of Japan, triggering a tsunami that has caused
extensive damage.

Japanese television showed cars, ships and even buildings being swept away by a vast wall of water after
the 8.9-magnitude earthquake.

The quake has sparked fires in several areas including Tokyo, and numerous casualties are feared.
Here BBC News website users in Japan recount their experience of the moment the quake struck.

Mike Hall, Hokkaido

I live in Hakodate, which is on the southern most peninsular of Hokkaido.

We have been really lucky, my apartment was shook up for several minutes, a few things fell over etc but
there was no major damage.

It is very much like a swaying rolling motion, with jolts that really put the fear of God in you.

Initially, I didn't pay any attention as we've had earthquakes before. But this time, it went on for longer and
there were several big aftershocks. The last one was about an hour ago (1000 GMT).

Power and water supplies are fine at the moment and cell phones and the internet seem unaffected. But we
have a major tsunami warning in effect.

The bay area of the city has been flooded, though I'm not sure how badly.

We haven't had any visits from local emergency wardens or city officials. Most of the information has come
through the various news broadcasts

Yukiko, Tokyo

I have never felt such strong quake in my life.

I have never felt such strong quake in my life

My flat is on the fifth floor (British fourth floor) and the building shook slowly at first, then more and more
violently. It was really scary.

TV is showing a fire in a tall building in the Odaiba area in Tokyo, and also tsunami waves carrying lorries
and cars. It looks like there are more fires breaking out in Sendai, a major city in northern Japan.

Until a few minutes ago I was with neighbours who jumped out of the building and shared what little
information we had and consoled each other.

Lifts have stopped in our building, and I guess have in most buildings. There are still aftershocks every few
minutes.

Ryosuke, Tokyo

Although we're far from northern Japan, the quake here was very big.
The first quake was very long - everyone in the office was screaming

The first quake was very long - everyone in the office was screaming. Then we had another long one about
30 minutes after that. Paper and items were falling off the desks. We can hear the walls. We can hear the
walls going back and forth.

Things have started to calm down now and some people have started to get back to work.

Transportation has all stopped. The company has asked us to stay in the office.

Robert Koch, Tokyo

Everything that is meant to be inside is now outside. My beloved audio system is trashed as is the CD
collection.
My flat looks like a bomb has hit it

Thank goodness it did not happen at midnight with my four-year-old son at home.
None of the trains here are running, buses seem to be fine and no-one here has been hurt. It was just really
scary being in a high-rise building during an earthquake. My flat looks like a bomb has hit it.

There is almost a buzz of excitement around. I live about 20 minutes away from central Tokyo. Being a
South African, one is not very used to ground that ripples and wobbles under your feet.

Jeffrey Balanag, Higashi-Shimbashi, Tokyo

The quake shook and rolled our building in Shiodome Sumitomo Building.
There is no panic but I am almost seasick from constant rolling of the building

We are stuck in our offices because elevators are stopped. We are watching the TV which is showing the
tsunami rushing landward.

The trains have been stopped. We can see Yurikamome Line and JR Yamanote Line stopped.

We can also see fires. You can see the fires across the bay in the Odaiba area.

There is no panic but I am almost seasick from constant rolling of the building.