The seaport town of Anjer, by far the most important of the above towns, was almost completely swept away. The heavy stone lighthouse was so completely obliterated that no traces of its heavy stone foundations could afterwards be found. The Rev. Phillip Neale, formerly a British chaplain at Batavia, from whose account of the eruption of Krakatoa some of the above facts have been taken, tells of the brave action of the keeper of the lighthouse at Anjer. Besides his work as lighthouse keeper, to see that the light was constantly burning during the night, he was charged with telegraphing to Batavia the names of all passing vessels. On the fateful morning of the great catastrophe, observing that the sun did not rise, he kept the light of the lighthouse burning, and, notwithstanding the danger to which he was exposed, continued at his post in order to send word to Batavia of the passing of an English steamer. While doing this the lighthouse was swept away and the brave man perished.
The following verbal account of the destruction of the port of Anjer was given by a Dutch pilot stationed at Anjer. This description is quoted by the Rev. Mr. Neale from an article prepared by him for publication in "The Leisure Hour."
"I have lived in Anjer all my life, and little thought the old town would have been destroyed in the way it has. I am getting on in years, and quite expected to have laid my bones in the little cemetery near the shore, but not even that has escaped and some of the bodies have actually been washed out of their graves and carried out to sea. The whole town has been swept away, and I have lost everything except my life. The wonder is that I escaped at all. I can never be too thankful for such a miraculous escape as I had.
"The eruption began on the Sunday afternoon. We did not take much notice at first, until the reports grew very loud. Then we noticed that Krakatoa was completely enveloped in smoke. Afterwards came on the thick darkness, so black and intense that I could not see my hand before my eyes. It was about this time that a message came from Batavia inquiring as to explosive shocks, and the last telegram sent off from us was telling you about the darkness and smoke. Towards night everything became worse. The reports became deafening, the natives cowered down panic-stricken, and a red, fiery glare was visible in the sky above the burning mountain. Although Krakatoa was twenty-five miles away, the concussion and vibration from the constantly repeated shocks were most terrifying. Many of the houses shook so much that we feared every minute would bring them down. There was little sleep for any of us that dreadful night. Before daybreak on Monday, on going out of doors, I found the shower of ashes had commenced, and this gradually increased in force until at length large pieces of pumice stone kept falling around. About six a. m. I was walking along the beach. There was no sign of the sun, as usual, and the sky had a dull, depressing look. Some of the darkness of the previous day had cleared off, but it was not very light even then. Looking out to sea I noticed a dark, black object through the gloom, travelling towards the shore.
"At first sight it seemed like a low range of hills rising out of the water, but I knew there was nothing of the kind in that part of the Sunda Strait. A second glance—and a very hurried one it was—convinced me that it was a lofty ridge of water many feet high, and worse still, that it would soon break upon the coast near the town. There was no time to give any warning, and so I turned and ran for my life. My running days have long gone by, but you may be sure that I did my best. In a few minutes I heard the water with a loud roar break upon the shore. Everything was engulfed. Another glance around showed the houses being swept away and the trees thrown down on every side. Breathless and exhausted I still pressed on. As I heard the rushing waters behind me, I knew that it was a race for life. Struggling on, a few yards more brought me to some rising ground, and here the torrent of water overtook me. I gave up all for lost, as I saw with dismay how high the wave still was. I was soon taken off my feet and borne inland by the force of the resistless mass. I remember nothing more until a violent blow aroused me. Some hard, firm substance seemed within my reach, and clutching it, I found I had gained a place of safety. The waters swept past, and I found myself clinging to a cocoanut palm-tree. Most of the trees near the town were uprooted and thrown down for miles, but this one fortunately had escaped and myself with it.
"The huge wave rolled on, gradually decreasing in height and strength until the mountain slopes at the back of Anjer were reached, and then, its fury spent, the water gradually receded and flowed back into the sea. The sight of those receding waters haunts me still. As I clung to the palm-tree, wet and exhausted, there floated past the dead bodies of many a friend and neighbor. Only a mere handful of the population escaped. Houses and streets were completely destroyed, and scarcely a trace remains of where the once busy, thriving town originally stood. Unless you go yourself to see the ruin you will never believe how completely the place has been swept away. Dead bodies, fallen trees, wrecked houses, an immense muddy morass and great pools of water, are all that is left of the town where my life has been spent. My home and all my belongings of course perished—even the clothes I am wearing are borrowed—but I am thankful enough to have escaped with my life and to be none the worse for all that I have passed through."
As is common in cases of earthquake waves a great depression in the level of the sea occurred at places great distances from Krakatoa. For example, at the harbor of Ceylon, the water receded so far that for about three minutes the boats were left high and dry, and then a huge wave carried them with it as it rushed over the land.
Perhaps one of the best evidences of the immense power of ocean waves is to be seen in the massive blocks of white coral rock that were washed up by the waves, on parts of the coast of Java for distances of from two to three miles from the ocean. Many of these blocks weighed from twenty to thirty tons. Indeed, some of them reached the weight of from forty to fifty tons.
It is probable that the island of Krakatoa and its neighboring smaller islands formed portions of a huge cone about eight miles in diameter, that has been broken up at some very remote but unknown time by, perhaps, a greater catastrophe than that of August, 1883.
In the Straits of Sunda the water was raised fifty feet to eighty feet above the ordinary level, and produced tremendous destruction especially on the coasts of Java and Sumatra, sweeping away many villages and drowning many thousands of people. The wave had a velocity of progression of nearly 400 miles per hour, or eight times faster than an ordinary express train.