Full-Rip 9.0: The Next Big Earthquake in the Pacific Northwest

by Sandi Doughton

  Nearly six thousand people have attended retrofit classes in and around Seattle, and the approach has spread across the region. Faris passed the teaching baton several years ago, but still makes an occasional guest appearance. “The joy of teaching for me is watching people gain confidence.”

  Faris’s personal preparations go beyond bolts and shear walls, though the retrofit is why he plans on sheltering in his own home after the next big quake. “I have a lot of confidence that this house is not going to collapse and that it’s not going to leave its foundation,” he said, pulling the lid off a plastic bin stored in the laundry room. Inside are blankets and a sleeping bag. There’s a Ziploc bag full of medications, cans of Costco tuna, a can opener, a first aid kit, and a crank radio. “There should be a bottle of wine in here,” Faris said, rummaging around. “I need to add that.”

  After a major earthquake, power and other utilities are likely to be disrupted for an extended period. Emergency managers recommend stashing enough supplies to get through at least three days on your own. On the coast, where a Cascadia quake will be followed by a tsunami, it could be weeks before help arrives.

  Several plastic buckets sit by Faris’s washing machine, each filled with four gallons of water. Faris keeps these buckets handy, along with several dry-chemical fire extinguishers, to douse any flames that flare up after a quake. The one gap in his preparations is the water heater. It isn’t strapped to the wall to prevent it from tipping over. But that’s only because the interior wall is too flimsy and Faris hasn’t gotten around to rebuilding it yet. The fact that the heater is electric makes the omission a little less risky, he explained. No gas lines will break if it falls. But strapping is still a good idea because the tank can be a source of drinking water.

  Faris has another supply, though. Heading outside to his detached garage, he pulled open the door to reveal three thirty-gallon barrels. He adds a few drops of bleach to keep bacteria in check, and tries to remember to dump the stale water and replace it with fresh every six months or so.

  On the way to the garage, Faris passed his neighbor’s gas meter and pointed out the wrench that dangles from it by a cord. He’s got one on his own meter, preset to fit the shutoff valve in case of a post-quake leak. It takes two wrenches to shut off the water at the meter, and those tools hang just inside the garage door for easy access. It’s no surprise that Faris’s block is one of the city’s most prepared. The neighborhood has an emergency plan that includes checking in on elderly residents and conducting sweeps for broken gas lines and water pipes.

  Anyone can lay in supplies and plan for disaster, but not everyone is keen to wedge into a crawlspace and drill holes in concrete. FEMA’s early support helped Faris and others design a seismic retrofit training course for contractors. “It was sorely needed,” said Leif Jackson, one of the early students.

  A lot of shoddy retrofits were being passed off as adequate, and Jackson’s brother had unwittingly been responsible for at least one of them. On the job for another contractor, he used hurricane straps to fasten a house to its foundation. When he took the retrofit class, he realized the flexible straps might keep the house from blowing away, but they weren’t designed to keep it from shifting off the foundation in an earthquake.

  “That was really common,” Jackson said. “There were no permit requirements and guys would just go to the store and come back with some hardware they thought looked good.” A poorly designed retrofit can actually make a house more vulnerable to earthquake damage. Faris and local building officials developed standard retrofit plans for different types of houses, and cities throughout Western Washington imposed permit and inspection requirements. Some jurisdictions in Oregon are following suit.

  Fortunately for homeowners, wood-framed construction generally fares well in earthquakes because it flexes with the motion. Scientists who run shake-table experiments have a hard time rattling apart well-built wood frames, even with the power cranked up to maximum. By the late 1970s, building codes required new residences to be braced and bolted to their foundations.

  But in Western Washington alone, more than four hundred thousand houses predate those rules. Jackson and his brother did the math and decided to launch a company called Sound Seismic, specializing in retrofits. Two years later the Nisqually quake hit and business boomed. Since then demand has been steady enough to keep at least one crew working full time. Every high-profile quake brings a spike in interest, which tapers off predictably within a few months.

  Retrofits aren’t cheap. Doing it yourself can cost $1,000 to $2,000 for materials and permits, and the work can consume weekends for a month or more. Hiring a contractor can run anywhere from $4,000 to $15,000, depending on the size and complexity of your house. A lot of people point out that their houses are still standing after quakes in 1949, 1965, and 2001. If the ground doesn’t shake harder or longer in the next quake—and if there’s no hidden damage from earlier episodes—there’s a good chance houses like that will do just fine.

  The Nisqually quake lasted about forty seconds. A Cascadia megaquake could have the ground rocking for four minutes or more, longer than it takes to sing the national anthem twice at a baseball game. If the next quake strikes on any of the shallow faults that run through the Puget Sound region’s biggest cities, the ferocity will be like nothing the region has ever experienced. Nearly ten thousand wood frame buildings were red-tagged in Southern California after the shallow Northridge quake in 1994. The shallow magnitude 6.3 quake that hammered Christchurch, New Zealand, in 2011 damaged 110,000 houses—in a city of 400,000 people.

  Even a retrofit doesn’t guarantee immunity from damage. Jackson makes sure his customers understand that the work will make their homes more resistant to earthquake damage but won’t make them earthquake-proof. That’s probably why the insurance company that provides liability coverage for most contractors in Washington won’t cover contractors who perform seismic retrofits. “I’m convinced you’ll always be better off with a retrofit,” Jackson said, “but there’s always that potential for a catastrophic event.”

  In that case earthquake insurance could be the only thing that stands between a homeowner and financial disaster. Jackson doesn’t carry it on his own home. Faris used to, but when Allstate bailed out of the earthquake business, he didn’t bother shopping for a replacement. Both men admit it’s a gamble. With well-fortified homes and the skills to rebuild if necessary, it’s a risk they’re willing to accept.

  Even in California only about 12 percent of homeowners carry earthquake coverage. The Northwest Insurance Council estimates about 12 to 15 percent of homeowners in Washington and Oregon have the policies. “A lot of people have the attitude that it won’t happen to me,” said the council’s president, Karl Newman. Many people may not realize that standard homeowner’s insurance doesn’t cover earthquake damage—unless the house burns in a quake-triggered fire. Anything else, from total collapse to the destruction of your Ming vase collection, and you’re on your own.

  Earthquake insurance has its limitations, too. It usually doesn’t cover damage from the landslides, floods, broken water pipes, or tsunamis that earthquakes trigger. All those potential disasters require separate policies.

  Before they insure an older home against earthquakes, most companies require a seismic retrofit. Adding earthquake insurance in the Northwest can roughly double your homeowner’s premiums. But what makes many people balk are the deductibles, which generally range between 10 and 20 percent. If your home is worth $500,000, that means you’d have to pay out of pocket for the first $50,000 to $100,000 of damage. There’s a separate deductible for damage to belongings.

  After the Nisqually earthquake, very few homeowners filed insurance claims, even though minor dings like broken chimneys were widespread. The cost of fixing the damage didn’t approach their deductibles. The fact that the Seattle Mariners play in a stadium named for Safeco Insurance didn’t help them, either. With a deductible of $1 million, the team was on the hook for th
e $400,000 in cosmetic damage caused by the 2001 quake. After the quake, the Mariners’ earthquake premiums were jacked up nearly threefold and the deductible raised to $11 million.

  “What earthquake insurance protects against is the big one,” Newman said. “For most of us, our home is our most valuable asset. If it’s destroyed and you don’t have earthquake insurance, where are you?”

  The other option is what disaster planners mock as the Air Force One solution: waiting for the president and the federal government to swoop in and shower the region with money.

  A major quake in the Northwest will easily make the cut for a federal disaster declaration. After the Nisqually quake, FEMA received forty thousand applications for assistance, more than from all other previous disasters in Washington combined. Checks from FEMA paid for chimney repairs and a slew of other damages. Faris fixed a broken sewer pipe in his yard, then found out his neighbors got grants to cover the same type of damage.

  But keep in mind that the average FEMA grant is $5,000, said Denise Everhart, of the agency’s Portland office. Most post-disaster federal aid comes in the form of loans. The feds paid out $53 million in grants after the Nisqually quake and $77 million in loans. Individual FEMA grants top out at a ceiling that’s adjusted every year. In 2012 it was $31,900. That’s the most you could get even if your house was reduced to matchsticks. “We call it home replacement,” Everhart said. “But there’s no home you can replace for that amount.”

  Humorist Jack Handey, whose “Deep Thoughts” were a staple on Saturday Night Live, once mulled the question of how to respond when the ground starts shaking. “Here’s a good joke to do during an earthquake,” he suggested. “Straddle a big crack in the ground, and if it opens wider, go, ‘Whoa! Whoa!’ and flail your arms around like you’re going to fall in.”

  Here’s some other advice:

  WHAT TO DO BEFORE AN EARTHQUAKE:

  • Keep a stash of emergency supplies—water, food, first aid supplies, flashlight, batteries, blankets, warm clothes, a can opener, medications—at your home, in your car, and at your office. Be prepared to fend for yourself at least three days, and possibly much more.

  • Your family may not be together when an earthquake strikes, so have a plan to contact one another. Local phone networks often fail, but it may be possible to make long-distance calls. Designate an out-of-state contact to check in with, and have a backup in case that person’s not home. Even if phone networks are down, text messages may get through.

  • Lower the chances that stuff will break or fall on you during a quake. Secure bookshelves, water heaters, and other major appliances, especially those that use gas. Disconnected gas lines can start fires. Store heavy, breakable, or hazardous objects (like pesticides) on lower shelves.

  • Learn how to shut off the gas and water supplies to your house.

  • Keep a flashlight, gloves, and shoes near your bed. Floors may be littered with broken glass after a quake.

  • If you live in a coastal area susceptible to tsunamis, learn where to go. Be aware of the high ground near your home, office, and other places where you hang out.

  WHAT TO DO DURING THE EARTHQUAKE:

  • Drop, cover, and hold on.

  • If you’re indoors stay there. Most injuries occur when objects fall from buildings and hit people. Get under a desk or table, or get on your hands and knees against an interior wall. Experts don’t recommend standing in a doorway. Most internal door frames aren’t strong, and you’re likely to get hit as the door swings. After the quake don’t use elevators, which may be damaged.

  • If there’s no place to take cover, crouch down and cover your head and neck with your arms. In a theater or stadium, stay in your seat, duck down, and cover your head.

  • If you’re in bed, stay there and cover your head with a pillow. If there’s a heavy light fixture dangling above you, lie down next to the bed.

  • If you’re driving, pull to the side of the road and stop. Don’t park under bridges or overpasses and try to get clear of trees, light posts, power lines, and signs. Stay in your car until the shaking stops.

  • If you’re outside, move into the open. Get as far as you can from buildings, power lines, trees, and anything else that may fall on you.

  • If you’re surrounded by skyscrapers, duck into a doorway or get as far as possible from the buildings without running into traffic.

  • In the mountains, beware of the potential for landslides.

  • If you’re on the coast, expect a tsunami and head for high ground.

  • One way to reduce anxiety is to count. Scientists say counting helps them focus and seems to slow things down. Counting can also give you an idea of what kind of quake you’re experiencing. Deep and shallow quakes usually last no more than thirty to fifty seconds. Subduction zone quakes will last several minutes.

  • If you’re trapped in a collapsed building or under debris, try to avoid inhaling dust. Don’t light a match because there could be a gas leak nearby.

  WHAT TO DO AFTER THE EARTHQUAKE:

  • If you’re in a coastal area where a tsunami might strike, head for high ground as soon as the ground stops moving. Don’t wait for a siren or official warning.

  • If you’re indoors, exit the building after the shaking stops.

  • Check on your neighbors or help trapped or injured people. In a big quake, emergency services will be overwhelmed.

  • Check your house for gas leaks. If you smell gas, shut off the main valve. If you smell other fumes or can’t shut off the gas, leave the area. (Don’t shut off the gas if it’s not leaking since only qualified technicians can restart service.)

  • If electrical wiring seems damaged, shut off the power at the control panel. Extinguish small fires if you can do it safely.

  • Be alert for aftershocks. Deep quakes under Puget Sound usually have few aftershocks. A Cascadia Subduction Zone quake or a quake on a shallow fault will likely be followed by many aftershocks, some large enough to cause damage.

  • Don’t use the phone unless you need to. Heavy traffic after a quake often crashes the networks.

  • Check for cracks in your home’s foundation. Inspect chimneys and check for damage to sewer and water lines.

  • Help the USGS track quake impact by reporting your experience at the agency’s “Did You Feel It?” site: http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/dyfi/

  HOW TO SURVIVE A TSUNAMI:

  • After the ground shaking stops, immediately head for high ground. Stay away from rivers and streams, which can funnel the waves inland.

  • Whether the ground shook or not, if you see the water drawing away from the shore, head to high ground immediately.

  • If you can’t make it to high ground, take shelter in the tallest, sturdiest building, parking garage, or other structure around you.

  • If there are no buildings nearby, climb the biggest tree you can find.

  • If you’re swept up in the water, try to grab onto something. Many people in Japan survived by climbing onto floating houses. One survivor of the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami said he swam for his life, looking for smooth water and steering away from obstacles.

  • If a tsunami overtakes your car, roll the windows down. The water pressure will make it impossible to open the vehicle doors.

  • Get out of the water as soon as you can, so the receding wave won’t suck you out to sea. Expect multiple waves that can arrive over a twelve-hour period. The first waves aren’t usually the biggest.

  See Resources (this page) for resources to help assess your risk.

  CHAPTER 13:

  FUTURE SCIENCE, COMING QUAKE

  IN HIS OFFICE ON SAANICH INLET, Herb Dragert frowned at his computer screen. It was 1994 and he was monitoring results from the region’s first network of continuously operating GPS stations. At a time when many American scientists still thought of the Cascadia Subduction Zone as moribund, Dragert and his colleagues at the Geological Survey of Canada had installed t
he state-of-the-art satellite instruments to check for signs of life. The Canadians could afford only four stations. Even so they were already compiling the most dynamic view yet of the region’s restless nature.

  For the first time scientists could actually measure tectonics in action, watching as the ground deformed almost before their eyes. Since the initial station went in on southern Vancouver Island in 1991, the GPS measurements had shown that British Columbia’s outer coast was being shoved about four-tenths of an inch northeast every year. To Dragert, that was clear proof the subduction zone was locked and headed for trouble. But now something seemed to be amiss with the network, which was his baby. If the numbers on his screen were right, the station near Victoria had turned on its heel and moved in the opposite direction for about a week. The motion wasn’t big. Dragert put it at six millimeters—about a quarter of an inch. But millimeters matter in geodesy, the science of measuring the Earth’s surface.

  Dragert drove out to Albert Head, the point of land where the GPS antenna was anchored to a granite outcrop. Maybe water and ice had cracked the rock, making the monument unstable. But Dragert didn’t see any problems. Follow-up surveys checked the station’s position relative to reference points, but still couldn’t explain what had happened. “At that point we had to shrug our shoulders and shelve it,” Dragert recalled. But he couldn’t stop puzzling over that blip.

  From the time he joined the government agency in 1976, Dragert had earned a reputation for fastidiousness. When you’re trying to size up landforms with enough precision to detect a quarter-inch bulge, it pays to be obsessive about details. Dragert’s career paralleled the evolution of geodetic techniques, starting with old-fashioned surveying. One of his first projects compared leveling lines run by highway crews in the early 1900s to modern results. The changes he saw piqued his interest, hinting that over the intervening decades the ground had warped and tilted slightly.