Michel Dupont and his wife Lenna Gowenlock were affected by a curious part of nuclear history this month while at their winter home in Hawaii.
Dupont and Gowenlock both received the infamous text alert saying that a ballistic nuclear missile would hit Hawaii.
The couple live most of the year in Flin Flon, but spend their winters in Keaau, a small town just south of Hilo on Hawaii’s Big Island.
Dupont received the text alert around 8 am on Jan. 13.
“It didn’t sound like a text message – it sounded like a different alarm. I have my phone set to notice me of any government emergency,” said Dupont.
“Here we sometimes have to deal with a hurricane or a tidal wave, a tsunami – we’re high enough, we’d have no problem with that.”
Worried that their tropical paradise could be bombed, some Hawaiians panicked, trying to get off the island or hunkering down in makeshift shelters.
Dupont and Gowenlock noticed something was off almost immediately.
“I showed Lenna and we just said, ‘What can we do? We’ll just have to wait and see,’” said Dupont.
“We phoned some friends who were local. One of them called one of her friends who was told they already knew it was a mistake.”
One vital point that helped confirm suspicions, said Dupont, was the absence of an alarm sounding in his neighbourhood.
“At the end of our road here, we have a big set of alarms for tsunamis. Anybody below thirty feel above sea-level will have to evacuate and go up higher – all the islands go up toward the middle from volcanoes. There’s a different alarm incorporated with the first one that is for missile warnings,” he said.
“They already tested that last month, we heard both of them. This one never came on.”
About forty minutes after the text, Dupont, Gowenlock and the rest of the islanders received an all-clear – the alert had been sent by accident.
“The word of there being no threat was faster than the actual alert. What happened in Honolulu was that the HPP – Hawaii police – went out in the streets with bullhorns telling people, ‘This is not a drill, this is not a threat, this is a mistake, somebody pushed the wrong button,’” he said.
Dupont said the Big Island would not likely see an initial impact itself, adding that Oahu – with the state capital Honolulu, multiple military bases and more than two-thirds the state’s population – would be the likely target for an attack.
“For us, where we are, we probably wouldn’t get hit hard except from the fallout. They told us to have enough food and water for two weeks, close all doors and windows, stay and don’t get out,” he said.
Dupont was more worried about what he thought would come after a blast – an epic tidal wave that could wash away entire towns.
“It could create a tsunami hundreds of feet high. Nothing could stop it. If a bomb hit, it would really push the water down,” he said.
Despite the frightening prospect, Dupont and many other island residents are taking the threat with humour, adding that he’d already bought joke t-shirts for friends and family based on the alert.
“I was in Maui for a few days, visiting my daughter and I bought a T-shirt there that showed the whole alert and then underneath it said, ‘just kidding.’ People are taking it in stride,” he said.
“For the rest of us, it’s life as usual. I went to the store that afternoon and I thought people would be in a panic there. There was no difference. People were more relaxed.”
With Hawaii being isolated from the mainland United States and having already suffered major bombing scares in the past, island dwellers have had to take precautions.
Due to the island’s high risk for storms, tsunamis and hurricanes, all new homes in the state are mandated to have hurricane rooms in the middle of the house – reinforced panic rooms that are joined to the home’s foundation. Dupont joked that his hurricane room is now his laundry room.
The threat has sparked a conversation about early warning systems, not just in Hawaii but on the mainland. For the islands, Dupont feels that there’s not much reason to even have a nuclear warning system on such an isolated space.
“Our friends and I were talking about it and thought, ‘Why even have an alarm?’ I would rather not know it. There’s no way to protect yourself, there’s no underground bunker on the Big Island,” said Dupont.
“People were trying to get out and catch a plane. You’ve got 15 minutes – that’s not going to happen.”
Meanwhile, life continues as normal on the Big Island, including for Dupont and Gowenlock. They plan to spend more time in paradise before heading back to Flin Flon in February.
“It’s all fine. We didn’t really get scared because we never experienced that before. We’re here for that, anyway – that’s a blast,” he said.
“At least we know the alarms work.”
