I HAVE been fascinated by the story this week about the tsunami which will, one day, engulf west Britain.

Scientists say that one of the Canary Islands is in danger of breaking up - there are already fissures and cracks showing where the island of La Palma is parting company with itself.

This will probably happen when the volcano on La Palma erupts. The break-up of the island will throw a lump of rock twice the size of the Isle of Man into the sea, setting off a giant tidal wave - a mega-tsunami.

Nine hours and 6,000 miles later, this wave will be 165ft high and will wipe out the coast of North and South America. Britain will be protected a little from the full force of the tsunami - the waves hitting our south-west coasts will only be about 40ft high.

The scientists behind this theory say that the tsunami will not happen this century, and probably not for many centuries. But one day it will. And when it happens, all humanity will suffer - the economic impact alone of losing America's eastern seaboard will be catastrophic.

Until I read the story, I thought tsunami was something the legions of Newcastle supporters shouted at St James' Park.

But I'm fascinated because, usually when we think of the future, we only think about how it will affect our children or grandchildren. But here is something that will affect our offspring in many generations' time.

What has fascinated me most, though, is the realisation of how delicate our environment is. When you stand on a beach staring out at the oceans of water, it all looks so dependable. But it isn't.

And then there is the realisation of how small and vulnerable each one of us is. Man likes to think he strides the planet, the master of all he surveys. But he isn't. The earth is a much more powerful thing than any individual or, indeed, any human community.

ANOTHER amazing, earth-shattering thing happened this week: I found myself feeling sympathy for the Hamiltons. On the night that the police said their investigations were inconclusive, Christine Hamilton was on television covered in relief.

In the past, I've regarded her as a horrible harridan, a Tory battleaxe who was too blind to see her husband was a sleazeball. But on Tuesday night, she looked and sounded like an ordinary person who had been put through the wringer by the most disreputable false accusations.

I don't know enough to comment on the police investigation, and I certainly don't know enough to comment on the role of Max Clifford, the PR guru.

All I do know is that the British public don't like injustice and they don't like bullying, and I am sure that they'll be putting the "cash for questions" scandal behind them and feeling a little sympathy for the Hamiltons.

IT could even be a way back for the Hamiltons, but even they should beware the pitfalls of the autobiography. The abrupt departure of Manchester United's Jaap Stam, after he'd just published his book, is another example of sportsmen too greedy for their own good. He follows rugby player Austin Healey and former England manager Glenn Hoddle, who rushed into print and then regretted it.

Stam, though, is only 29 - so why he's writing an autobiography when he's got his whole life ahead of him is anyone's guess.

Published: 30/08/2001