'No sign of the early warning system we were promised'

RALLEI BEACH, Thailand - It was at two in the morning when we were woken in our beach bungalow by a call from London warning us that another big earthquake had struck off Indonesia. Neither my husband nor I had felt the slightest jolt.

Minutes later, there was a pounding on the door of the bungalow in the remote Rallei Beach resort. An Australian from the next resort along was yelling: "Very big one, very big one, tsunami, get to high ground."

But there were no sirens, no sign of the early warning system that we had been promised after the Boxing Day tsunami, which killed 5,395 in Thailand.

Although Rallei Beach was spared from serious damage in the disaster, 1,440 people perished near by on Kho Phi Phi, which is why last night we were taking no chances. Although there was no panic, everyone's nerves were jangling because of the tsunami only three months ago.

We grabbed our clothes and belongings and joined the trail of people filing uphill, swallowing our fear because of the children everywhere. Some tourists carried babies in their arms.

Toddlers were asking: "Why are we doing this in the middle of the night, mummy?"

Thai television and radio had begun pumping out information, warning people of a possible tsunami, and ordering people on to higher ground. People were exchanging text messages, telling relatives that they were safe.

A friend from Malaysia texted me to check that I was OK. She said that in her home in Kuala Lumpur, she had felt the earthquake for five minutes, and that all over Malaysia there were tsunami warnings.

Within an hour, the entire resort of about 500 people had climbed up the nearest cliff to shelter in the nightclub, where all the lights were on and trance music was blaring. Only one person, an American, decided to go back to bed, saying he was prepared to take the risk, after the last tsunami sent a 2m-high wave crashing on to the beach.

The traces of the Boxing Day tsunami can still be seen on the spectacular limestone outcrops around Rallei Beach, which can only be reached by boat. Visitors come here to snorkel in the normally transparent water or to rock climb on the jagged outcrops.

In a cave, where fishermen had set up a makeshift shrine, all the wooden phalluses they had installed to pray for fertility of their catch were knocked over by the last tsunami, and they have been busy rebuilding. A salt tidemark 20 feet up the rocks has turned all plant life brown. Although the beach's palm trees survived, gardens were destroyed by the waves.

But at Rallei Beach all the fishermen's and tourist boats are equipped with new life jackets, which came in handy only a few weeks ago, when a boat capsized in heavy seas when those on board panicked. We were beginning to wonder how long we might have to stay up at the nightclub. The only rations I had with me were sunflower seeds. But the nightclub was still selling drinks, so it seemed like the most sensible thing to do on top of our cliff was to have a cool Singha beer, and wait for the all clear.

- Independent