ow that the panic has apparently washed away with the tide, maybe it?s safe to laugh ? just a little. Many, no doubt, had a chuckle yesterday over a plate of cod fish and potatoes. How could you not?

The stories out of Somerset and Dockyard flowed down to the rest of us like we were on the heavy side of a seesaw ? reports of wives grabbing wedding photos as keepsakes, drivers accelerating their cars to uncharted speeds, and people donning raincoats even though there wasn?t a raindrop in sight.

In retrospect, and only in retrospect, it seems comical.

My cell phone rang while I was in Hamilton shopping for my brother?s birthday present. It was the news editor at .

He told me he?d just got a call about something happening in Somerset ? a report of a tidal wave about to hit the West End.

?Really?? I said in a tone that let him know he couldn?t fool me.

?Is this some kind of hazing ritual?? I asked. Maybe it?s something they do to the new people, I thought. It was only my second week on the job.

?I don?t know, mate,? he replied. ?Just see what you can find out.?

He hung up.

So did I.

Then I continued shopping.

Not even a minute later, as I approached the checkout counter, the clerk got a call ? a call, which on this end, seemed to go a lot like the one I just had.

?Was that about a tidal wave?? I asked.

?Yes,? she said, ?my cousin in Somerset.?

I left my brother?s would-be birthday present on the counter, and bolted for the door.

Turns out I wasn?t the only one dashing around Hamilton.

People everywhere had either a cell phone to their ear or worry on their faces. A lot of people had both.

Aisles of Christmas shoppers turned into rings of sewing circles.

?Have you heard about the tsunami??

?When?s the tidal wave supposed to hit??

Word of mouth quickly became a vessel for panic which overwhelmed every square inch of the island far more comprehensively than a tidal wave ever could.

No one seemed to believe this implausible story on the first listen, but after the third or fourth ring of the cell phone, the sixth or seventh man on the street, the unthinkable became believable.

The turning point for me was when a family member told me about the firefighter she?d just spoken to. He was dispatched to Somerset. He encouraged her to call anyone she knows up there and tell them to get out.

A former high school classmate of mine in Warwick said she talked to her neighbour, a Policeman. He told her he?d been called at home on his day off. He said the tidal wave was 25 feet, but West Enders were lucky because a reef knocked it down to 15. He also said, and he would know, Police were en route to assess the damage.

In the end, of course, there was no damage ? except to our collective psyche.

The psychological carnage is in the tales.

Apparently some good Samaritan decided to get himself a truck and round up all the pets that were being left behind. He wore a raincoat.

On more than one occasion you could find three people squeezed onto a scooter ? not a helmet between them. In emergencies, the laws of the road are apparently optional.

That may also explain the sporadic use of the speed limit Saturday.

And when Police told a congregation full of parishioners to evacuate a Seventh Day Adventist Church, those people left hastily, perhaps never fearing God as much as they did at that moment.

There was mass panic.

And as people in the west looked around, there was plenty of reason to worry.

Police officers were yelling, citizens were evacuating, cell phones were not working.

Considering the chaos, we?ll never know exactly how it all went down ? which stories are true, which ones are hyperbole, who might be at fault.

The blame game, no doubt, will create a tidal wave of second guessers.

So brace yourself, because unlike Saturday, that wave may produce a few casualties.