TSUNAMI! TSUNAMI!
by Martyn Green
With more than 270,000 people dead or missing as a result of the Boxing Day (December 26) Indian Ocean tsunami, it was the biggest, known, natural disaster in human history. And Hong Kong-based cameraman Martyn Green was there, as a member of the team of six cameramen for international TV news organization APTN, covering the aftermath stories of rescue and relief work. This month and next we have two reports from Green on the subject: this month from the point of view of the cameramen and the next focusing on the technology of getting the stories back.
When a huge earthquake occurred in the Indian Ocean, 70 miles off the coast of Sumatra, Indonesia, in the early morning of December 26th 2004, nobody could possibly have guessed just how terrible the consequences would eventually be. The resulting tsunamis, which struck Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and several other countries, caused well over a quarter of a million deaths, making it the worst natural disaster in recent human history.
At that time, although Hong Kong-based, I happened to be visiting Bangkok on vacation. Initially, reports of the tsunami's effects in southern Thailand were sketchy, and the number of reported deaths and missing so limited, due to communication difficulties, for several hours the world had little idea about the full extent of the tragedy.
Andrew Chant, a British journalist at Virgin Radio in Bangkok, recalls, "It took quite some time before the magnitude of the disaster sunk in. First reports spoke of just a few people being killed or injured after a big wave had hit Phuket island. Even six hours later, the Thai authorities were reporting just 14 dead and many missing. But the only place being reported on was Phuket -- presumably because Khao Lak [on the mainland] was so badly hit there was no communication. At midnight reports were still coming in that the worst damage was on Phuket, which was of course wrong -- Khao Lak and Phi Phi Island had suffered the worst."
According to German film director Stephan Kaysler, who lives in Phang Nga province, 75 miles north of Phuket, "On that first day, nobody, tourists included, had any idea about the real extent of the catastrophe. People were talking about a few, maybe 200, dead and many injured people, and while the word 'tsunami' was not yet being used, both Thais and injured tourists told me of seeing some big waves, ten or more meters high."
Nevertheless, by 1 PM the next day, I was on the way to Phuket, with APTN's Deputy Managing Director for Asia, Dan Furnad, carrying with me my small, 690 g (1 lb 4 oz) Sony DCR-PC120E camera, with its f1.8, 10 - 1 zoom lens and ¼-inch CCD, along with a JVC GL-V0752U 0.7x wide-angle attachment, with which I had originally intended simply to record some Christmas holiday videos.
I started working as a professional "shooter" long ago. I was a combat cameraman for NBC News in Vietnam, and over the years had worked for the BBC, ARD German TV, and various ABC-affiliated stations, among others. Yet, when I left my Hong Kong home for Bangkok, I packed the small consumer-level DV camera, simply because I didn't think I needed anything better to film just a few holiday scenes.
But when the Indian Ocean tsunamis struck that fateful morning, such was the need for cameramen, and cameras, that I went on to use the diminutive PC120 for most of the two weeks I was shooting for APTN. Only the last two days of my involvement in the story was I able to use a professional-level mini DVCam camera. Yet I had sometimes several stories a day on the air -- all shot with the little PC120. Not bad for a camera that fits in a jacket pocket…
After a 90 minute flight, Dan and I were met at Phuket International Airport by Johnson Lai, from APTN's Taipei bureau. "You two guys go up to the departure lounge, and get some general views," said Dan, as he hurried off to APTN's temporary edit room and the nearby satellite feed point, in a hotel high above Patong Beach, one of the badly-effected areas. "Try to get interviews with some of the passengers," he added.
The scene upstairs was one of chaos, as hundreds of tourists, impatient to leave the devastation of some parts of the island, thronged the departure hall. With a sadly out-of-place "Happy Christmas" tree in the background of our shots, we waded in, with me doing the interviews and Johnson shooting with his shoulder-mounted Sony model DSR-570WS DVCam.
Although mostly physically uninjured, many of the passengers were reluctant to speak to us, so traumatic had been their experiences. But one Italian man spoke movingly of his narrow escape and how, while fearing the worst, he had been lucky enough to find his two daughters alive. As he relived the terrifying minutes as the tsunami struck, he broke down, and sobbing, hugged his children close to him.
Since we were shooting for an international news service that sends reports around the world, Dan had told us to not only get the interviews in English, where we could, but also in the interviewee's own language. Both would eventually be sent out with the edited stories, via satellite, to London, with the client stations deciding which piece to use. This obviously added to the credibility of the news reports.
Having got a number of interviews, Johnson and I separated to get our own shots, he with his large, very obviously, "TV" camera -- and me with my tiny Sony PC120. Interestingly and perhaps surprisingly, while other cameramen covering the tsunami aftermath took it "in their stride," the only time my "travel-bag" camera seemed to lack credibility was with some members of the public.
Filming a German woman in the departure lounge who was slightly injured, for instance, a voice behind me demanded to know what I was doing. "Filming for television," I replied quietly, not wanting to lose my shot. "No, that's not television!" came the disbelieving reply. Yet for 14 of the 16 days I was shooting, I only used the PC120 -- a camera that has often been used in Iraq, where it is valued for its light weight, as being "much safer." Only during the last two days of my participation was a Sony PD150 mini-DVCam available for me to use. Certainly the resolution of the 3-CCD camera was superior, but in a situation where both cameras, and cameramen, were in short supply…
On the other hand, stories were everywhere, and we found ourselves working 16-18 hour days, in order to get them. Not that any of us minded. While covering an event like this was demanding, it was so absorbing we were entirely caught up in our work, and determined to do our best to inform the world about both the horror, and the help that came flooding in.
As we set out to cover each day's stories, Dan reminded us, "See if you can find people with amateur videos of the tsunami" because APTN, like other news organizations, was prepared to pay for broadcast rights for such tapes.
Going out to Ao Nang, on the mainland just north of Phuket island, I filmed scenes of the destruction wrought by the tsunami -- such as boats piled up under a bridge, one on top of each other, as if some giant hand had casually stuffed them there, like unwanted, broken toys. By asking around, I soon met a tourist who had filmed a tsunami wave making its landfall -- and paid him cash for the DV tape, promising I would mail it to him back in Germany.
Over the next few days, several of my colleagues brought in other tapes shot by shocked tourists. For the sake of both history, and as a way to help mobilize aid, it was no doubt good that so many visitors had done so. Yet, as Dan Furnad commented with some surprise, "The biggest natural disaster in recorded history -- and only amateurs filmed it!"
One day I drove with my Thai driver out beyond Khao Lak, in Phang Nga province, nearly two hours north of Phuket island, to try to find the elephants we had learned were involved in the search for bodies. Hurrying out along the dusty paths I found other cameramen and correspondents coming BACK -- the elephants had already found two bodies, so all the crews felt they had enough for a story.
It took some time for me to find the place, and then I discovered I was on the wrong side of a lagoon. Fortunately, the daughter of the elephants' owner was passing by and gave me a lift in her dune buggy. We soon found one of the elephants working in the jungle amidst rubber trees. During my very first shot, as the elephant gently lifted up some vegetation and debris, the rescuers suddenly shouted "Stop, stop!!" Quite unexpectedly, they had found a body with the first dig -- and were afraid that it might be harmed by the action of the elephant lifting it up.
I looked around. I was the only cameraman covering the scene. It was just one body -- that of a young Thai woman with long hair and jeans -- but it was a scene that was to be sadly repeated over and over and over again…
Fortunately, or unfortunately, at the time you really can't think about the true enormity of what you are filming. Indeed, it seems each one of us cameramen faced his own personal challenge covering the tsunami stories.
Paolo Santalucia, for instance, an APTN staff cameraman from Italy, joined the team later but got involved with filming some of the most distressing scenes at a mass grave near Takuapa.
Says Paolo, "I remember standing in the middle of lines of dead bodies and not really thinking of anything. My only feelings were primary: a lump in my throat, and nausea when the sickly smell of putrefaction and formalin hit my nose. But then, when I caught sight of the body of a little boy, not more than three feet tall, I broke down and cried.
"There were other scenes I'll always remember -- like the almost petrified faces of resigned relatives lining up for DNA identification, or the face of a little girl of three or four in the Bang Muan camp's nursery who, for some reason, was standing alone, facing a wall, with tears streaming down her face, while the rest of the children were playing and screaming and eating snacks and chocolate."
Guilad Kahn, a freelancer who has been a cameraman in Israel, covering stories like suicide bombings, said, "I'll never forget the images of that first day when I got to the temple at Krabi. There were over 300 bodies lying on the floor. I think all of us are going to have a hard time coping with what we saw."
But says APTN Taiwan staffer, Johnson Lai, "Because of the stories we had aired to people around the world, I believe we helped them really comprehend the enormity of what had happened, so aid and medical support was delivered to the disaster areas, in greater quantities, and faster."
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