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5
Natural Disasters Headed for the United States
By
Jim Gorman
Source: http://www.popularmechanics.com
Earth is one rough place. Even the most devastating
storms of recent years pale in sheer destructive
power against outsize natural disasters of the
past, such as continent-smothering ice sheets,
ocean-raising floods, super volcanoes and the
occasional asteroid. Because cataclysms will
always be a regular feature of life on Earth,
PM consulted with leading scientists to detail
five more disasters that may be in store. Some
will be beyond human control; others could be
disasters of our own making. Either way, prepare
for a real doozy.
40-Mile-Long Mudslide, Washington State
Movin' Mountain
On an overcast afternoon high on Mount Rainier,
a rocky slope slumps and then cuts loose from
the mountain. Small rock slides are common on
the volcano's steep flanks, but this one is different.
Most of Mount Rainier's west face is in motion.
Into the tumbling maelstrom go millions of tons
of ice from the Puyallup and Tahoma glaciers.
House-size rocks disintegrate in the downward
crush. “With Rainier's active hydrothermal
system saturating the rock, the landslide would
reach the base of the slope as a flowing mass
of watery, muddy debris,” says Kevin Scott,
scientist emeritus at the U.S. Geological Survey's
Cascade Volcano Observatory (CVO).
So a lahar is born--a volcanic mudflow--and
a nightmare realized for the approximately 150,000
Washington residents who live and work on the
solidified debris of past flows. The mass of
roiling mud, rock and trees, traveling at 60
mph, would quickly funnel into the canyons of
the Puyallup and Carbon rivers, where it would
rise 180 ft. high before spreading into the lowlands
as a 15-ft. wave. The 5000 residents of Orting,
at the rivers' confluence, would have less than
45 minutes to evacuate. People downstream, in
towns such as Puyallup and Sumner, might have
twice that long.
Despite its iconic standing, 14,410-ft. Mount
Rainier is pocked with corroded, unstable rock
capped by a cubic mile of ice and snow. The mountain--weakened
from the inside out by acids resulting from upwelling
magma--has partially collapsed many times in
the last 5600 years, unleashing mudflows that
have inundated five of six major drainages. Six
of those lahars surged at least 45 miles to reach
Puget Sound.
The USGS gives a 1-in-7 chance of a similar
event occurring in anyone's lifetime. And, says
Dan Dzurisin, a CVO geologist: “There's
no guarantee there would be any advance warning.”
80-Ft.-High Tsunami, Atlantic Coast
Coast Buster

A massive collapse of Cumbre Vieja in the Canary
Islands would cause a tsunami to radiate all
the way across the Atlantic Ocean to the East
Coast. PHOTOGRAPH BY J. SCHWAKE/ALAMY
Cumbre Vieja, the most active volcano in the
Canary Islands, lurches as a violent earthquake
wracks its upper slopes. A third of the mountain
breaks away and plunges into the Atlantic Ocean,
pushing up a dome of water nearly 3000 ft. high.
They don't yet know it, but tens of millions
of Americans from Key West, Fla., to South Lubec,
Maine, have just 9 hours to escape with their
lives. The
collapse of Cumbre Vieja unleashes a train of
enormous waves traveling at jetliner speed. The
first slam into nearby islands, then the African
mainland. By the time they reach the East Coast
of North America, the waves are up to 80 ft.
high, and in low-lying areas, sweep several miles
inland.
When tsunamis strike the United States, it is
usually Hawaii or Alaska that take the hit. But
topography and population density put the East
Coast in a special risk category. “More
Easterners are exposed to potential tsunamis--from
the Canary Islands or the Cape Verde Islands--than
the people on the West Coast, which has a steep
coastline and few lowlands,” says Steven
Ward, a geophysicist at the University of California,
Santa Cruz. A Cumbre Vieja eruption in 1949 opened
a mile-long, 20-ft.-deep fissure near the crest,
forcing the volcano's western face to slump several
feet. A 1971 eruption didn't budge it.
Marine geologists at Southampton Oceanography
Center in Great Britain have a different take.
They conclude the volcano would collapse in stages--
at worst threatening nearby islands. Ward calculates
only a 5 percent chance Cumbre Vieja will trigger
a tsunami in a given century, but that when it
does a chunk of earth 15 miles long, 9 miles
wide and nearly 1 mile thick will plunge into
the sea--a landslide 250 times larger than the
collapse of Mount St. Helens.

The tsunami's probable trajectory within 5 hours
of the collapse of Cumbre Vieja.
The tsunami's potential range of destruction
9 hours after the collapse of Cumbre Vieja
Magnitude 6.9 Earthquake, Mississippi River
Valley
Stress Test

The New Madrid Seismic Zone, which extends into
five states, is part of a rift that formed more
than 500 million years ago when tectonic forces
began pulling the continent apart.
Ten miles beneath Caruthersville, Mo., stress
along an ancient rift zone releases in a violent
spasm. Shock waves from the magnitude 6.9 earthquake
roll 160 miles up the Mississippi River Valley
to St. Louis, and 75 miles downriver to Memphis,
Tenn. The soils under Memphis ripple like a shook
rug. Century-old brick buildings heave, then
crumble. Sewer and water lines rupture. Gaslines
snap. Downtown, the 14-story federal building,
a decade overdue for quakeproofing, rains 3-ton
panels.
While all eyes are fixed on California as the
site of the next “Big One,” damage
from a quake along the New Madrid Fault--which
runs for 150 miles between Marked Tree, Ark.,
and Cairo, Ill.--may be greater. The hot, shattered
crust beneath California absorbs seismic energy
quickly and focuses it at an epicenter, says
Gary Patterson, a geologist at the University
of Memphis. But, he says, “the relatively
hard, cold slab of rock beneath the central U.S.
allows that energy to travel great distances.” A
quake's impact zone is at least 10 times larger
on the New Madrid Fault than on the San Andreas,
and its shock waves reverberate longer.
The New Madrid Fault has produced the strongest
earthquakes in the contiguous states: three tremors
near magnitude 8.0 that struck from December
1811 to February 1812. Odds of a quake of that
scale are small: 7 to 10 percent in the next
50 years. But factor in unprepared citizens and
infrastructure and even a 6.0 earthquake, which
has a 25 to 40 percent chance of occurring, would
be a disaster.
“There's a lot about the New Madrid we
don't know,” Patterson says. “But
what we do know is very concerning.”
195-MPH Hurricane, Florida
Tropical Terror
Packing maximum sustained winds of 195 mph, Hurricane
Lyle slams into Coral Gables just south of Miami.
The breadth and intensity of the storm dazzles
meteorologists, who rank it the strongest hurricane
ever to hit the U.S. mainland.
On the north side of the storm's eye, Miami
Beach, which has the second highest housing density
in the country, is in shambles. Many residents
don't evacuate, believing they are safe in concrete
high-rises. They are wrong. Then it is too late,
as the causeways connecting them to the mainland
wash out. Waves riding a 15-ft. storm surge gut
oceanfront condos up to the third story; windows
blow out, allowing wind and rain to ravage upper
floors. The storm surge sweeps over the island,
carrying wreckage into downtown Miami, where
the 70-story Four Seasons Hotel and Tower is
reduced to a sodden shell.

Low-lying coastal areas would be hit twice by
a supercharged storm—as waves rushed in
and then back out. PHOTORAPH BY WARREN FAIDLEY/CORBIS
Block after block of homes in Coral Gables,
West Miami and Sweetwater--many not yet retrofitted
to the tough codes imposed after Hurricane Andrew
in 1992--are blasted down to roofless frames.
Waist-deep floodwater inundates areas as far
north as Fort Lauderdale. Insured losses exceed
$100 billion--nearly twice the amount caused
by Katrina--making Lyle the costliest natural
disaster in U.S. history.
Katrina should have been a wakeup call, but
coastal development has continued unabated, exposing
the 4 million people in Florida's Miami-Dade
and Broward counties to deadly monster storms.
Warm water is rocket fuel for hurricanes, and
global warming is predicted to heat tropical
oceans by 4 F in the next century. Sea surface
temperatures in the tropics have already risen
by about 1 F since 1970.
Researchers at Georgia Tech and at the National
Center for Atmospheric Research in Boulder, Colo.,
have measured a near doubling in the annual number
of Category 4 and 5 storms during the past 35
years. And Kerry Emanuel, professor of meteorology
at MIT, has found that Atlantic storms today
wield twice the destructive force as those in
1970.

Wind speeds increase with altitude, and so a
Category 4 storm at ground level can be a full
category higher at the top of a building. While
the storm surge scours the first two stories,
overpressure blows out windows in the highest
floors, exposing the interiors to wind and rain.
Some scientists dispute the global warming-hurricane
connection. They attribute the intensity of recent
hurricanes to natural cycles, or they contest
the accuracy of early data and the objectivity
of techniques used to analyze it.
Supercharged or not, hurricanes promise to wreak
unprecedented damage in the decades ahead for
one simple reason: More people have put themselves
in harm's way. Coastal zones from Texas to North
Carolina have gained 24 million residents since
1950.
Climate-Changing Ocean Disruption, North Atlantic
Sea Change
Winters in the Northeast begin to bite with a
ferocity last seen during the deep freezes of
1936 and 1978, when icebreakers plied the Mississippi
and Hudson rivers. Winter temperatures in Washington,
D.C., begin to approximate those of Boston. Extreme
drought grips the Midwest, sending grain commodity
prices soaring; crops fail and farmers spin into
bankruptcy. Climate patterns go haywire. London,
Paris and the Scandinavian capitals shiver through
their coldest winters since 1850. Summer monsoons
in India and China weaken, affecting harvests
that feed hundreds of millions of people. Fisheries
decline when plankton populations collapse. Drought
and flood push worldwide agricultural losses
to $250 billion.
The cause of the big chill is an unlikely culprit:
global warming. The northeastern States, eastern
Canada and, primarily, Europe enjoy warmer climates
than they otherwise would because of an ocean-based
system of heat delivery called thermohaline circulation.
This vast ocean conveyor sweeps warm, salty water
from tropical latitudes north along the surface.
After shedding heat to the atmosphere, the chilled
brine becomes denser and sinks. Thousands of
feet beneath the surface it flows back toward
the equator, completing the loop.
Freshwater melt from the Greenland ice sheet contributes
to a layer of buoyant water that is beginning to
cap the North Atlantic Ocean. PHOTOGRAPH BY BLICKWINKEL/ALAMY
But as the climate warms disproportionately
at the poles, the gears of the system begin to
wobble. Freshwater runoff from Greenland's ice
cap and from melting glaciers across the Arctic,
combined with increased precipitation, could
form a thick, buoyant cap over the North Atlantic.
Already, the great gyre may be sputtering. The
surface of the North Atlantic is becoming noticeably
less salty, and thus less driven to sink.
Thermohaline circulation shut down as recently
as 8200 years ago, and some scientists contend
that the Little Ice Age of 1300 to 1850 was due
to a hiccup in the system. The chance of another
collapse is hotly debated. Terrence Joyce, a
senior scientist at Woods Hole Oceanographic
Institution, calls it “unlikely” if
Greenland's ice cap continues to melt at the
current pace. However, “Greenland is a
wild card,” he says--its melt rate remains
unpredictable. Michael Schlesinger, an atmospheric
scientist at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign,
calculates a 45 percent chance of the system
shutting down in the next century if nothing
is done to slow global warming.

Cold, dense water typically sinks near the Arctic
and flows in deep currents to the equator. When
this cycle is disrupted, warm water is not pushed
as far north along the surface.
Ice core samples indicate the switch from temperate
to bitter could be measured in mere years--and
last for centuries. The timing of such an event
will determine the severity of its consequences. “If
the shutdown happens 100 years from now, it will
bring us back to where we are now, canceling
4 to 6 F of atmospheric warming [predicted] in
the Northeast,” Joyce says. “If it
happened tomorrow, that would be something more
significant.”
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