The Captain's Journal

My name is Reinfredo Enrique Celis, village chairman of village 31 of Tacloban City.

On November 7, 2013, the City Disaster Coordinating Council warned all residents in all villages to evacuate, because of the expected arrival of Typhoon Yolanda with the estimated strength of 270 kilometres per hour.

At three in the afternoon, I started moving my residents out. At three in the morning, the rain and the wind was too strong. I immediately woke up my wife Celia, my son, and my grandson Harvey Clyde.

At 6:40 in the morning, the water suddenly rose, and it seemed like my house was about to collapse. We all panicked. I looked at my wife Celia, but she said nothing. At 7, we all went out. Celia and I were the last.

When we stepped out of our house, the water was already high. I held Celia. I looked for my son Harold, and saw him running into another house with his wife and my grandson. Celia and I followed. The waves, rain and wind were so strong. It was like Tacloban was under attack.

The water rose when we were on the first floor. It was 8 in the morning, and the water rose high. We made it up to the second floor, when the house collapsed. There were more than twenty of us in the house. Everyone was screaming. There was no way out.

We broke through the ceiling, then through the roof. I saw a hole and squirmed through, then ripped through more of the roof. I pulled out Harvey Clyde, then Harold. My wife nearly got caught on the wood and tin. I carried her out. All of us were crouched on the roof of the house. The wind and rain and waves were so strong that we had to jump to the roof of another house.

My wife was stunned, she wasn’t talking. I told her, “We’ll fight to save ourselves, so that we’ll live.” I held her tight. We were on that roof floating on the water for a long time. I didn’t know where we would end up, because there wasn’t a single building in sight.

After a minute, I saw a wall, with a roof and a terrace. We decided to move to that building. I told my nephews and cousins to hold on to my wife while I attempted to jump to the terrace so I could drag all of them to the building. On my first jump, I fell short, and fell into the water. I was trapped underneath wood and debris, and nearly didn’t manage to break out. I was lucky I did, and made it out of the water. Everyone was far away, my wife, my nephews and cousins. There were mothers holding children, clutching them by their shirts.

We were punched by bigger waves. I swam to them, so I could stand on the tin roof again and make another try. I jumped, caught one of the balcony railings, hauled myself up and braced my feet so I could pull my wife to the terrace.

Carlo Gabuco