Rising toll

Japan facing mounting toll in a triple catastrophe

By Chico Harlan
Tuesday, March 15, 2011

TOKYO - As bodies washed ashore by the hundreds and an emergency deepened at a coastal nuclear plant, millions in Japan on Tuesday faced an unabating sense of apprehension, mourning and astonishment over the emerging scope of this nation-changing catastrophe.

The toll of Japan's triple disaster - first an earthquake, then a tsunami, then a related nuclear crisis - is both visceral and hard to see. Officials in coastal towns say they are running low on body bags; homes and the people inside them have been pulverized. But Japan is also trying to quantify - and contain - the potential damage from a partial meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi plant, where on Tuesday another explosion was heard at a damaged nuclear reactor, the third since Saturday.

Initial readings suggested that this latest explosion may have damaged the unit's containment chamber, stoking fears of a catastrophic leak from the nuclear core. Radiation levels spiked outside the plant, and Japanese authorities sought both to cool several overheated reactor units and to protect the several hundred residents who had not evacuated from within a 12.5-mile radius of the site.

Four days after the earthquake and resulting tsunami destroyed much of the northeastern coastline here, the U.S. Geological Survey updated the magnitude of the quake from 8.9 to 9.0, making it the fourth largest in the world since 1900.

More than 500,000 people have been removed from the hardest-hit areas and 15,000 have been rescued. But time was running low for rescuers to help those stranded by flooding or trapped in debris. Officials said about 2,000 bodies were found Monday along the coast of battered Miyagi Prefecture, and a survey of local governments conducted by the Kyodo news agency found that about 30,000 people in the devastated areas remained unaccounted for.

With some roads impassable and fuel almost nonexistent in the north, relief and rescue workers have struggled to reach the areas where they are needed most. Survivors in shelters say they are short of food and water. With the country's power supply depleted by the damaged nuclear plants, many shelters have no heat, and on Monday, Japan began widespread efforts to curb nationwide energy usage.

As the government urged companies and residential complexes to keep lights off or cut down on time, Tokyo on Monday felt as though it had been put on pause. Millions stayed indoors. Train lines ran on limited schedules. At the iconic crosswalk in front of Tokyo's Shibuya Station - usually a riot of lights and noise - the massive video screens were turned off. No Japanese pop music was blaring; only footsteps could be heard.

Many of these power reductions were voluntary. But the sudden downsurge in electricity use also caused confusion, as the Tokyo Electric Power Co. made on-the-fly changes to its planned series of rolling blackouts, announced Sunday. Tepco Executive Vice President Takashi Fujimoto said that, at least Monday, lower-than-expected demand prompted the company to keep lights on in some areas - despite public announcements saying otherwise. As the plans unfolded with little correct information, chief government spokesman Yukio Edano criticized Tepco's management, calling for a speedy release of accurate information.

Even so, Japan, a country of paradoxes, seems to be handling its greatest crisis since World War II with decorum, fighting chaos with order. A ferryboat is sitting atop a house in the tsunami-ravaged town of Otsuchi, but at shelters nationwide, shoes are neatly removed at the entrance and the trash is sorted by recycling type.

There has been virtually no evidence of looting or rising crime levels, and the Japanese have shown stoicism while waiting in long lines.

Also on display have been Japan's unrelenting politeness and its love of consensus. Twitter users told stories about the stranded and the homeless sharing rice balls. Travelers heading north reported 10-hour car rides - with no honking. At a convenience store in one battered coastal prefecture, a store manager used a private electric generator. When it stopped working and the cash register no longer opened, customers in line returned items to the shelves.

Even at Tokyo's Kokubunji Station, with most train lines down, morning commuters waited hours just to board their trains. Lines reached out of the station, over crosswalks and along the streets for several hundred yards. Railway employees wearing suits and white masks directed commuters into lines - east going this way, west going that way.

CONTINUED     1        >

© 2011 The Washington Post Company