And then they were running full speed toward a hotel above the beach -- Giske, his wife and his niece, 32, the mother of two small children.
The water gave chase. His wife ran though someone's first-floor hotel room. He ran to the stairway and got up to the safer ground of the second floor.

A man talks on his phone near vehicles that were swept up and deposited along Patong Beach, the busiest stretch of coast on Phuket, one of Asia's most popular tourist islands. The water tore furiously into the shops and hotels. "Big cars and boats were coming," recalled a survivor.
(Suzanne Plunkett -- AP)
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Where their niece went no one really knows.
As the water crested over the beach, it tore furiously into the shops and hotels on the seaside strip. "Big cars and boats were coming, crashing into the hotel," Giske said.
When the surge passed, he called out for his wife but couldn't locate her. People were running back and forth frantically.
He found his wife after about 10 minutes. They went to one hospital after another in search of their niece. On Monday morning, a nurse told them where they might have to look: They came to the morgue.
As his wife signed the paperwork to have the body flown to Bangkok, then on to Norway, Giske stood on the pavement, taking in the scene. More bodies were being loaded onto gurneys, carried in bloody bedsheets, flopped down wherever space remained.
Despite the pulverized landscape, Phuket was a refuge for hundreds of tourists making their way back Monday from outlying islands. Among the hardest hit was Koh Phi Phi, a crescent of land south of Phuket, with steep outcroppings towering over jungle stretching to white sand.
Lisa Reed and Chris Chapman, two British backpackers, said they went there for a relaxing highlight to a global adventure that has taken them from Latin America to Asia over the past year. "We're due back in Wales in February," said Reed, 24. "Koh Phi Phi sounded beautiful, perfect for Christmas."
They were in their guesthouse, set about a half-mile back from the beach, when they heard what they described as a terrifying rumbling. Then they heard screams and saw people running. "I looked up and saw water coming down the street destroying everything in its path," Reed said.
The water reached their second-story room, then flowed back out. Then another wave came, and they realized they had to get out.
A refrigerator was lodged in the corridor along with furniture. The only exit was through the window. They removed slats blocking their path and climbed down, emerging into a scene of carnage. A man with a punctured lung wailed for help. People were stuck in trees, having grabbed them as their boats and bungalows floated past at the high-water mark.
Some tourists set up an impromptu triage unit in a bungalow on higher ground. Reed and Chapman were enlisted to help. He took an ax and detached doors from their frames for backboards. She collected bedsheets and affixed them to polls for use as stretchers.
At first light Monday, they hiked back down and talked their way on to a ferry to Phuket. They arrived midday, exhausted, emotionally battered but happy to have survived.
They could not find an empty hotel room -- some had been destroyed and the rest were booked. So they went to the airport, joining a teeming mass of frenzied people. They bought tickets for the first available flight to Bangkok, 36 hours later. Then they sat down on the floor and waited.
"I guess it will be okay from here," Reed said, slumped against the wall, tears in her eyes. "I'm just reflecting on how grateful I am."