Debbie lives on

It’s over two months now since Tropical Cyclone Debbie ploughed through the Whitsundays. The reduced humidity and clear skies give the Dryander Range an outline of such clarity on these bright winter days - it’s so far removed from the oppressiveness and murkiness of the wet, cyclone season.

Dryander Range

A silver lining - spectacular sunrise

The distant forest viewed from our balcony is transforming from brown to a blanket of army green. Peering closely one can see new leaves sprouting from broken tree branches and seedlings emerging from the forest floor: the thinned out forest has begun to fatten up, covering the windborne scars.

While nature does it’s best to make a comeback the damage is still apparent in our man made world.

New beginnings

Broken but not out

I’ve exhausted myself in our garden; replanting, up righting, pruning, weeding. I am overjoyed when a plant continues to thrive; disappointed when it does not. I’m now an expert with the pickaxe, and have become well acquainted with my Thai masseuse. I’m teaching myself how to rebuild dry stone garden beds, learning the art of repairing wire fences to keep the Brush turkeys out, and reassembling the labyrinth of PVC piping to capture all rain and condensation that flows from the roof to our tanks. With a freshly mowed lawn complete with whipper snipped edges, things are starting to look good. On the outside at least. 

Balcony still needs painting and fencing fixed, but front yard looking a lot better

Tank garden

Patio garden

New look pergola

We are becoming accustomed to the industrial internal look of our modern house which was ‘stripped down’ over a month ago as part of ‘make safe’: black mould creeping through plaster board is a health hazard. Silver foiled insulation shimmers through the ceiling joists, and where plaster board has been removed from ceiling and walls, a regular light dusting drifts onto the remaining floorboards, and everywhere else. The master bedroom is completely out of action but we are fortunate to have the spare bedrooms intact. Furniture is piled up in the dining area, and the marital Persian rug covered with a foam mattress is the new TV viewing area. Both bathrooms are still usable (albeit without ceilings) and we have a fully functioning kitchen. For now.

Living area

Master bedroom

While we wait for the building quote to be approved by the insurance assessor (it’s over $100 000), I take the opportunity to declutter and organise things for when we will need to move ourselves into Delvy and all our possessions into the shed for a few months. The building company assures me the rebuild will be completed by Christmas – I forgot to ask which one.

The incessant sound of neighbouring circular saws, hammering, and now only the odd chainsaw, take the serenity away from our rural retreat. Even one of our chickens has gone out in protest of the upheaval - she hasn’t laid in over a month. One day our property will join the chorus and our driveway entrance will also adorn signage displaying the home owner’s builder of choice details and site safety information.

The flow on effect from a natural disaster is often overlooked by those on the outside. How can one know if they are not privy to the disaster? My local pool, library, doctor’s surgery and tennis club are still closed, along with numerous restaurants, tours, accommodation houses and other small businesses that communities either depend on or just simply like having around. The Queensland Transport and Main Roads customer service centre is operating out of a van in front of the Proserpine railway station, major banks have supplied pop up dongas around the district, tenants have been moved on to make way for higher paying building crews, residents move away due to lack of housing and/or work, and tourists struggle to find a bed after taking advantage of the cheap Jetstar and Tiger fares from Brisbane and Sydney.  Not to mention the effect on the natural environment, the reef in particular, and the main reason why most people have chosen to live here. The greatest living organism of World Heritage status has prevailed over nature many times, but it faces it greatest challenge yet in this current political arena.

I feel for the whole community that is still trying to pick up the pieces, deciding whether to rise like a phoenix (or whatever the cyclone equivalent is) or fold and walk away. Unfortunately, some are left with no choice.  At times it takes enormous effort to find motivation to move forward as emotions roller coaster. Yes, I know we are lucky compared to others. Yes, I know it could have been a lot worse. And I know we have each other and at the end of the day that’s all that matters and I am truly thankful for that. And I realise this is an opportunity to reflect and revise life choices and reevaluate future options. However, it would be nice if everything was back to how it was. 

Stunning  Whitsunday sunsets at this time of year

Cyclone Debbie meets Delvy

The butane stove is packed away, the shower items by the gravity fed water tank are transferred to the bathroom and the buckets of water beside the toilet and kitchen sink are emptied into what remains of the garden. Two weeks since the arrival of Tropical Cyclone Debbie and the power is restored. I flick the taps and the light switches on and off with much satisfaction: day to day living is now a little easier.

Two weeks on and the weather couldn’t be more different here in the Whitsundays - blue skies, a gentle south easterly breeze and reduced humidity.  It makes us wonder if we really did sustain storm force winds for 24 hours, with gusts up to 267 km per hour (the highest ever recorded in Queensland), plus 600mls of rain. But one look at the surrounding trees, or lack thereof, you can see a trail of destruction. It looks like a bushfire has torn through, minus the charcoal, as whatever trees are still standing have been completely stripped of leaves. What was once a tropical vine forest is now a smattering of brown sticks, interspersed with far flung man made materials like tin and hard plastic. With its sepia tones the landscape is strangely reminiscent of photos taken after the Battle of the Somme.

Chainsaw battle

Thankfully two of our significant trees remain at our Hill Fort, without falling on the house or Delvy, albeit minus a few limbs: the 70+ year old Mackay Cedar and a Milk Pine provide some contrast amongst the flattened forest. Some of my lovely garden surrounding the house will resurrect, after removing countless branches and up righting still intact plants.

Patio garden before TC Debbie

Patio garden after TC Debbie

Our once private hill top retreat is now completely open to the sky, with full 180 degree views of the squashed sugarcane valley below, and many neighbours whose existence we were unaware. Stargazing in the south east and north east sky is sensational, and was made even more so with no lights to mar the viewing.

Balcony view prior

Balcony view after

Reconnecting the power was no simple task. The riser, where the power connects from the Ergon pole to the shed, fell down when the carport covering Delvy blew away. 

Delvy managed to escape relatively unscathed

A team of people had to remove the carport remains, an electrician installed a replacement riser, and Ergon pulled the fuse to make preparations for when the power was ready to restore.

Ergon man

Damage to our buildings is not substantial compared to others, but there are quite a few jobs. The north facing lounge room ceiling has a striking black mouldy strip from water ingress under the roof. The south east bedroom wall also has water damage, and floorboards are buckling. The patio shade cloth ripped to shreds, the chicken coop wire collapsed, paint was stripped from the southeastern sections of the metal balcony, fences broken, and every single downpipe has ceased to be a downpipe. The pergola has been removed after being squashed into the ground. We now have a helicopter landing pad, which would make a great spot for a landscape painter with easel.

My chill out space before Debbie

...after Debbie

What to do with it now?

For days after the cyclone our ridge line echoed with the drone of chainsaws and generators, and the smell of smoke was choking. Our next door neighbour kindly lent us a 1kW generator so we could cool the fridge in the morning and evening. Our food stayed reasonably fresh, and we ate quite well from all the defrosting frozen food. The BBQ did wear a little thin after a while, but we would eat anything after a big day cleaning up.

After spending many hours on the chainsaw, firstly to get out of the driveway and then to clear around the house, there is still so much more timber to remove. Our insurance covers for $5000 of green waste removal, but that will be gobbled up with the removal of the enormous palms, Poincianas and native trees that have uprooted and fallen on the next door neighbour’s fence, our fences or in our yard. The council is currently doing a green waste collection from the street and I have a token pile at the end of our driveway – one thousandth of what is on our property.

Driveway to house prior...

..and after.

One of many uprooted palms and trees

The recovery is slow as man power is needed to get things tidy. It can seem overwhelming to say the least, but sticking to the old adage, how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time and it will get done.

The wildlife has been slow to show itself but we finally saw a Proserpine Rock Wallaby last night, looking very healthy. Birds not normally seen up here on the hill have been flitting about, and an enormous flock of raucous white cockatoos are now our dawn alarm clock – I hope that is temporary. Numerous Green frogs huddle under the eaves in silent protest - missing our down pipes probably.

Our road before....

...and after.

The chickens are still laying and my eggplant tree has survived and already has new shoots (damn, I was hoping for a change in the veggie patch!); we both still have our beautiful home, and employment, and of course each other. Debbie’s wrath has been felt far and wide down through Queensland and northern NSW, and she even said hello to New Zealand. Two weeks on and although much clean-up has been done there’s still a long way to go.