Apr 11 2010
From Airport to Sea Port, Sobering Scenes of Devastation in Chile
Guest blogger: Marc Percher, P.E.
COPRI Chile team member
When you first enter the Santiago airport you realize that something just isn’t right. First you notice that hallway floors have occasional brown spots that look like oil stains, then you may see some piping piled in the corner or notice that a few ceiling tiles are missing. As you walk further into the building you notice the occasional plywood replacement of an interior window or places where rigid drywall has cracked from the movement of the columns inside. Eventually you look into an adjacent room and see a large pile of HVAC equipment and piping and realize that yes, there was a pretty significant earthquake here.
We spent the first half of the day hanging out in the Santiago airport waiting for our continuing flight to Concepción. There was a certain duality to the place, unusual in that the grand terminal ceiling was missing its plaster and piles of debris occurred in random places, yet the typical airport life continued. Half-awake people strolled, chatted, took photos with each other, and tried to figure out why there is a Dunkin Donuts in the Santiago airport. After more than a month since the main event, life in Chile has clearly re-entered some form of altered reality. People have internalized their surroundings and the initial shock has worn off.
The sense of normalcy continues throughout the trip to Concepción, with few signs that an incredible tremor has caused devestation in the countryside. Arriving at the Concepción airport we are stunned by the simple beauty of the structure and by the fact that there is a minimal level of damage (a few architectural windows or doors are stacked in a commercial space or removed from a walkway). We almost felt that our travels were in vain as clearly the country’s engineers had done an excellent job of preparing the infrastucture for such an earthquake as that which occurred.
This belief is only slightly undone as we hit the road and quickly find that there is more destruction than initially let on. We come across a bridge crossing a major river where the deck has fallen from the abutment causing us to ask the driver to stop so we can grab a quick snapshot. As traffic passes us by, our local guide tells us that the abutment fell while traffic was moving and that eight people died in the ensuing crash. A mile further down the road we come across another bridge which has lost all of its deck, but thankfully in this case the bridge was condemned two years prior.
Our guide now sees that we’ve caught the damage bug and brings us to a rather new-looking structure which split in two during the quake and now lies on its side. As I stare at this horrific scene, I realize that I’ve seen this on CNN and that yes, “I’m not in Kansas anymore.”
Miguel Carbuccia, a native Chilean who is on our team and has been in the country for two days ahead of us, relates the tale. The building was constructed as a shear wall structure, with heavy reinforced concrete walls throughout. However, overturning moments (sideways accelerations near the top of the building resulting in the building wanting to rotate about the base) caused additional compression to occur on one side of the building, and the edge wall reinforcement was not sufficient to confine the concrete. Without this confinement, the concrete spalls away from the reinforcement — this leads to the rebar buckling under the compressive load. This simple-sounding mechanism results in what was a 15-plus story building becoming wreckage on the ground.
As the sight sobers up our wanderlust, we head back to the hotel to regroup for a bit. A few of us then head out for a quick run through Talcahuano. As we get closer to the port, we’re overwhelmed with the smell of fish and saltwater. Along the roadside, the occasional collapsed unreinforced masonry structure foreshadows what we are about to see. We turn a corner and look out to see a street filled with debris and oddly stacked fishing trawlers. This is downtown Talcahuano, now a mixture of flotsam, steel containers, and the misplaced sea vessels. The entire area is destroyed. A steel embankment wall has fallen into the bay and the concrete has large fissures and misaligned planes, like sedimentary rock exposed after ages of tectonic movement. Yet through this desolation walk the people of Talcahuano, strolling somberly as if out for a quiet evening. To some degree these locals are as much tourists as us, yet we can see only a small shadow of the sadness which they surely carry. In a way this is sobering and good; it reminds us that while we are here on PTO, we’re not on holiday.
We slowly walk around the community, trying to deduce what events occurred here between the earthquake, tsunami and efforts by the locals to clean up. A dark stained line across a wall and the algae hanging from a tree shows us the height of the tsunami, unbelievably topping out at about 10 meters (30 feet) above the current waterline. We came across a bollard (used to tie up boats) with half a concrete deck attached to it, clearly missing any surrounding reinforcement — part of the scattered remains of a pier that likely failed quickly and catastrophically. A rubber tire sitting under a stack of ships, showing that the vessels did not fall in this place, but were moved here as part of the cleanup effort. Each small piece tells us a story of the events that occurred here.
We return to the hotel for the night, have some dinner, and plan for the next few days. We’ll be visiting the commercial ports themselves tomorrow, meeting with officials to find out the details of the earthquake event and what ensued. Hopefully we’ll be able to gain some knowledge from the mess in the streets to help better understand how to prepare for such events.





