Danielle Demetriou: My family was out fishing when the disaster struck

BENTOTA, Sri Lanka - It was a random mobile phone alert that told my family, huddled, baffled, in a rocking fishing boat off the coast of Sri Lanka, that the tsunami was on its way.

The tiny vessel being buffeted by enormous waves had left port in tranquil, sunny weather just hours earlier as part of a routine tourist excursion. Amid the cloudless blue skies and calm waters of Bentota, a beautiful stretch of coast between Colombo and Galle, there was no indication of the string of huge waves that were rolling across the ocean, and the devastation that they were about to inflict.

My father, boyfriend and the partners of two of my sisters had set out on a deep sea fishing trip from a nearby harbour before sunrise. Armed with bottles of water, sun cream and vodka they had left from a nearby harbour nestled in an ancient glass fibre boat equipped with three decrepit life jackets.

Sitting on my sunny hotel balcony at the Taj Exotica, situated above the beach, all appeared to be normal. Local children were playing makeshift cricket on the beach and an elephant ambled along the shore offering rides.

Shortly after 9am I watched the first giant wave creep forward, swiftly and relentlessly. Immediately it swept over and past the beach. Within 20 minutes the water had drained, leaving behind a trail of devastation in the form of wrecked boats, splintered furniture and doors.

There was an odd absence of people. This, it transpired, was the only the first in a series of such waves that would batter the coastline.

Meanwhile, with conditions evidently deteriorating at sea, my father had glanced at his mobile phone - it contained an Orange news alert warning of catastrophic weather in the region. The sea swelled dramatically as the skipper tried - and failed - to bring the 20 foot boat into the harbour. Forced back out to the open sea, the boat was buffeted by the wreckage of other vessels. Eventually, against mountainous seas their boat struggled into the port.

At the hotel we received a short, but hugely welcome text message from my dad. It read simply "yes".

As we gathered anxiously around the swimming pool area of the hotel, located safely on the fourth floor, the immediate traumas of those around us began to emerge.

Jaime Jones, a 25-year-old lawyer from London, described how she was swimming in the sea with her mother when the tidal wave struck. The pair were swept into the gardens of the hotel where they became trapped waist-high in water in one of the ground floor rooms.

"It happened so quickly," she said. "It had seemed like the perfect day but the water rushed in so fast. We were extremely lucky as two members of staff were able to rescue us."

Her father Bob Jones, 55, a company director from Plymouth who dislocated his knee in an attempt to find his family, added: "It was terrifying. It was just such a relief to find them. I hope that other people on the beach are as lucky."

Only several hundred metres away, Hotel Serendip, a pretty wooden two-storey property sitting on the beach, was destroyed after being submerged in water.

People cruising in the nearby Bentota Ganga river were forced to abandon boats in crocodile-infested waters and attempt to swim to the banks. People driving in the area told how they had abandoned cars to run from the advancing expanse of water.

Amid the chaos and devastation, staff at the hotel worked tirelessly and courageously to help those in trouble. Some attached themselves to the tallest palm trees by ropes while clutching surfboards in their attempts to help those carried out to sea.

Others performed brave rescue attempts perched precariously on rocks, supported by little more than a piece of rope and the moral support of those watching.

One guest, a 41-year-old Dutchman based in China, was fruitlessly trying to contact friends missing near the southern city of Galle.

"We were in touch briefly after the first wave," he said. "It was pretty scary, as they have two very young children with them. They'd been hiking and they got back to the hotel and it was gone. They lost everything. My friend was talking about people in the street and up trees. I've lost touch with them now and don't know where they are."

Amid the drama and tales of fellow guests, there was an end in sight for our own personal crisis.

It was shortly after 6pm - nearly 12 hours after they had set off - that my family fishermen finally walked through the door. Exhausted and covered in dirt they described how they had witnessed boats washed up to 300 metres inland as they had made the final journey back to the hotel.

The sun set on an ironically cloudless sky last night. We retired to our rooms exhausted but thankful that the immediate family drama was over. But for thousands in the region our happy ending is already a lost dream.

- THE INDEPENDENT