Tag Archives: flying fox

Back to Back Floods

by . Posted on
20 Apr

It seems like a long time ago now as I have been battling the Aliens in my belly, but at the end of February and beginning of March we had unprecedented rainfall and two floods back to back over two consecutive weekends. I didn’t think Ged would get home on the first Friday night (22nd February) because the rivers and creeks were rising so fast, but he got in by the skin of his teeth. Both cars had to be abandoned on the other side of the river and we all had to haul ourselves across the raging torrent on the flying fox, hand over slow hand.

The rain was pounding on the tin roof so loudly we could barely hear ourselves speak, let alone think, and hourly checks of the river showed it rising at an alarming rate. By bedtime the roar of the river was competing with the rain of the roof and while I passed out into dreamless slumber, Ged was kept up all night after the howling wind started to compete in the battle of the elements. Every time he heard a crash he went out and investigated and checked that we were still safe. He brought the farm car into the house paddock and parked it next to the verandah, ready for evacuation to higher ground, because never before has the river risen so rapidly or violently. I slept through . . .

Being floodbound is always exciting – witnessing the power and force of Mother Nature, knowing that we are completely cut off from the world. We had no internet which was really frustrating so we had no idea what was happening in the wider community – we were well and truly marooned. We went for a walk and drive around the property on Saturday morning and saw higher water levels than ever before. Angle Creek had backed up right over the bridge and there was no sign of Paddy or her lovely little Melissa calf. We presumed they had gone up into the bush to get away from the deluge.

The water was significantly higher than ANZAC day 2008 and the force of the flow was incredible. At the end of the house river flat we stood and watched a platypus feeding at our feet – under normal circumstances that is a steep bank down into a shallow river crossing. No sign of Paddy and Melissa but all the other animals were present and correct. It was a housebound weekend and amazing that Ged and Ben got out over all the creeks on Monday morning for preschool and work. The highway had been closed at Long Flat all weekend and when we saw the height and extent of the flooding we were all amazed. Once the internet came back on we realised just how widespread the damage and deluge had been.

I was weak and sick so pulling Ben and I across the river and back in our saggy flying fox was really hard work. I grew muscles in both body and mind! The river was slower than normal to recede, but beginning to go down when the rain in earnest began again. It was like Groundhog Day. Again Ged got home with minutes to spare, but at least this time we didn’t have the roaring winds and crashing trees. We stood at the window and saw a huge gum uproot from the bank and fall down into the river. Closer inspection of the banks during the week saw enormous she oaks had been ripped, roots and all, out of the river bank, gouging great chunks from our land. Now it was all happening again, it seemed incredible that so much water could fall out of the sky and we found streams and creeks rushing out of the bush where we’ve never seen water before. Still no sign of Paddy and the calf.

The second flood was stronger, faster and more powerful and took 10 days to go down so we could finally drive into and out of the property again. So for three weeks Ben and I were hand over hand across 100 metres of muddy brown torrent. Hot, sticky work!

Our river landscape has completely changed. We have welcomed a beautiful sandy beach at our swimming hole below the house, Ged has farewelled a huge rock he used to stand on which has moved 20 metres further downstream, and we have lost more bank. Thankfully all the young she oaks we felled on the other river bank which were waiting to be burnt have all been swept out to sea. Have checked with our neighbour, Pat, and they went straight past her. We went to the beach the other day and I think I saw bits of them in the driftwood pile on the tideline. All the rocks and pebbles at our bridge were completely rearranged and we had to wait for the tractor to come back from its long holiday at the menders (almost a year and $5,500!) before Ged could blade them all back again. It has been a bumpy ride in more ways than one!

But our greatest loss is the beautiful Paddy and little newcomer to Avalon, Melissa. We have looked high and low, up into the bush on rocky crags and escarpments and down along Angle Creek but there has been no sign, or smell. We have watched the wedge tail eagles circling and trudged up to where they land but nothing there either. They are gone and we can only presume that they slipped into Angle Creek and have been swept away to sea. It is hard to believe that we will never see them again and that they are lost to us completely.

Paddy has been here with us since the beginning. She has stood patiently while we all learned to milk kneeling at her huge udder. She has been friend and comforter. We thought she would have to have a bullet when she seemed to dislocate her shoulder over a year ago, but after a month or so of limping she came good, if always a bit slower than the rest of the herd. We had determined that Melissa would be her last calf because of the distension of her udder. But now we have neither.

We can only hope they survived – we have written to the paper to broadcast her loss, but we all have the same feeling, that they didn’t survive. Angle Creek rose so fast and the banks are so steep that it is possible that Paddy went down to water and slipped in, or maybe the calf slipped in and she went after it. We will never know. We are richer for having known and loved her, we are the poorer for her passing.

It’s a reminder that we are at the mercy of the elements, that Mother Nature has more power than we can ever contest. We think we are so in control of our world, but when we look at the sheer naked force of a flood or gaze up at the crystal clear skies at night, we are reminded just how small and insignificant we are.

Arthur, King of Avalon

by . Posted on
08 Sep

Well that Mad Cow FINALLY had her baby!  Her udders were so swollen she could barely walk so Ged had a big chat to her when he fed her on Saturday night and said ‘that’s enough, Paddy, you’ve got to have that baby now.’  And when he woke up yesterday morning she was standing apart from the rest and looking a little strained so he went out to give her a hand.  Apparently the nose and hooves were out but Paddy was heaving so he got his hands in there and eased the head, neck and shoulders out.  The rest came out with just one push.  (Good that he is getting lots of practise!)  And we have a little bull for the farm.  Arthur, King of Avalon.  He’s VERY cute and cuddly with the longest, spikiest lashes you have ever seen.

So we wasted quite a lot of time oohing and aahing over him yesterday and making sure that he was on the udder and sucking properly – Ged had to help him get on the teat and work it all out.
Last week was pretty quiet – we had grey skies, wind and rain for Wednesday and Thursday and I took to my bed with a mean old cold.  I can’t work out whether I am exhausted and it’s finally caught up with me and now I am the incredible sleeping giant, or whether I am just trying to bank some sleep for the future . . . probably a bit of both!  It seems strange that after months of not sleeping properly, now that the head is engaged and all the books say I should be weeing more frequently and more uncomfortable at night etc, I am sleeping like a log!  Typical, contrary me!
Friday we had torrential rain and we both had plans to be in Port Macquarie.  Even though the rivers and creeks were rising we made the call to get in and get out as quickly as possible.  Ged was selling his car, so that couldn’t be put off, and I had to pick up the sander etc but the conditions were terrible so we really were running around!  We finally left Port Macquarie just after 4 and the closer we got to home, the less likely it seemed we would get in.  Every creek and causeway was flooded and we were in Ged’s new van which hasn’t had the suspension raised yet so we weren’t taking any chances . . . Sure enough, we got to Tom’s Creek and didn’t like the look of it.  Ged waded across to gauge the depth and flow and remove a lot of branches from the bridge (he was securely tied on to the car to do this – don’t try this at home!) and it was a foot deep and whereas that would have been fine in the Pajero or the Hilux we had just sold, no good for the Delica.  We need to toughen it up first!
So we decided to walk home and come back for the car in the morning (5kms).  We put on whatever waterproofs we had (Mel, you will be pleased to hear that the only hat Ged had in the car was his UK flat cap and since we have now discovered that it suits him, it has become a firm favourite, getting lots of wear this weekend!) and then were lucky enough to see a hitherto unmet neighbour on her way home and she drove us all the way to the Flying Fox.  Thank God, I was not looking forward to getting my feet wet and cold and then the long march home, especially when I was only just recovering from a cold.  The lovely Chris Latimore came and picked Ged up on Saturday morning and took him back to the car, so we are well served with kind and compassionate neighbours out here in the country!
Ged was sick on Saturday with some sort of horrible tummy bug so I dosed him all day with homeopathics and reiki, knowing he just needed a rest – he has been working really hard both during the week and at the weekends, so his body finally forced him to take it easy.  Thankfully he was better on Sunday though – lots to do!!!  He sanded back the floor in the baby’s room which is now looking and feeling lovely and I have got two coats of Tung Oil down so far.  In a couple of days we will have it all ready for the little man and then he can move in!

Queen Bee & the Workers

by . Posted on
28 Jul

The boys are back in town!  Scottie bought a mate up with him for a couple of days this week as Gary couldn’t make it and Bill the painter has been here stripping the external windows right back and priming etc.  So Avalon is a hive of activity and the Queen Bee is happy!!

Talking of bees, we have ordered a hive for the Spring from a local Bee Farm as we have both always wanted to have our own bees and honey.  Have also ordered a ‘Starting with Bees’ book from our friends at River Cottage, and have asked the local apiarists who are setting us up to teach us everything they know – should be fun!
We are ever more like the Ark – two crazy cows, two hefty horses, two delinquent ducks, two house animals (Phee and Mischa) and ok, ok, FIVE hens.  But there’s not much you can do with only two eggs a day.  The ducks really have been a special needs case since the drowning of their two brethren (they had climbed into the chook’s water bowl and then drowned in too much water when they were little).  They spent weeks and weeks refusing to come out of their little shed and we had to tempt them into water with ever bigger troughs equipped with standing stones and log and plank ramps etc, and when we threw them in the river they ran back home as fast as their little waddling legs could carry them!
We were slightly despairing that they might every become normal and then the other night we had a lot of rain and decided to take the cars out to be on the safe side and Ged wheeled me across on the flying fox first (and let me tell you, you know you’re very pregnant when manouevring yourself in THAT confined space!).  I had the torch and played the beam out over the river to guage the rising tide and what did I see but two white ducks paddling around in the pitch black . . . I told you they were special!!
Scottie makes the missus happy!

The Big Flood

by . Posted on
28 Apr
Just call me NOAH!!
Although I haven’t done a very good job of rescuing animals.  Trying to save three stranded cows and calves, they jumped into the river rather than be herded into our place. And I had a platypus literally at my feet this morning, obviously washed out of its burrow by the raging torrent.  By the time I realised what it was and registered that it didn’t look happy, the river had swept it away.  Maybe next time I’ll just stay in the house and pray!
So the rain has continued all week to my utter disgust and despair.  We had a thoroughly wet and miserable day in Port Macquarie on Wednesday where I had my inaugural Pilates class, acupuncture and we went for our 18 week scan.   Normally we have the mst delightful, lovely and helpful of radiologists but this one was a cow and trying to extract information from her, let alone reassurance, was like pulling the proverbial teeth!  So we don’t know what sex the baby is, and with her attitude, I’m more worried now than I was before, so let’s hope I can get out to the doctor on Wednesday for hand holding, brow soothing and ‘there, there, dear’s’
On Thursday we woke late and despondent at yet more of the wet stuff cascading from the sky.  As I had refused to take my car up the now suicidal Tom’s Creek Road one more time this week, Ged had to wait for me and do my morning chores (feeding his horses, chooks etc) and by the time we were ready to go we could see that we had better be quick because the river was rising, the sky was ominous and the forecast for flash flooding and more.  All the creeks on the way up were very high, but just passable, so we weren’t long checking and replying to our emails, doing what we had to online etc before we packed up the computers and headed home.  We came down the other way to avoid the creek crossings and only just made it into our place before the bridge got really scary.  Ged dumped me and the gear and hared out again, leaving his car on the high side by the flying fox. (see it in the picture?)
And through our newly created amazing view from the kitchen window we witnessed the river rise first by inches, then by feet, while we were watching it.  From 3pm to 6pm it had risen 4 feet.  When I woke to go to the loo at 2am I heard the roar and went out to look.  It had risen another 5 or 6 foot and by 6am a further 4 or 5 feet.  Amazing!  The whole of the lower river paddock (the campground) was under water which covered the top of the fence both at the gate end and where the toilet used to be (before the flood!)  At the end of our river paddock (polo ground!) where there is normally a ten-15 foot steep bank there was just water lapping at the cutting’s edge.  The bridge at Angle Creek was sitting in banked up river water and there was only 6 inches of log left showing before that would be under.  At the concrete bridge (where I saw the Platypus) we were looking at 50 or 60 metres of water across between the banks and it was a raging, raging torrent.
The flats on the other side were well clear of water (we went to check our potential new home site to see how high and dry we would be) and were pleased to see that it was a very good Noah spot indeed.
And from about noon the waters have been receding just as rapidly.  But at 5pm when the rain started in earnest again, they started a slow ascent.  Apparently they had 10 inches of rain on Comboyne last night, compared to our 3.  Let’s see what tonight and tomorrow brings . . .
And as quickly as they rose, they have been receding, but we are now at the slow point – it will probably take almost a week for the river to get back down below the bridge again.  I am still marooned! And George will need to rearrange the river stones on the far side of the bridge before I can drive out as the raging torrent has significantly rearranged them.  Meanwhile, the sun has been shining all weekend and we have hope in our hearts again, at last.  I have been sanding back all the benchtops and varnishing them properly – they only got a quick lick and a spit before the wedding.  Ged has discovered white ant in his side of the shed happily chewing their way through all the tasmanian oak flooring for the office.  Oh God!
So he has been busy burning them and it and finding ways of foiling their concentrated campaign attacks on our belongings.  I am going up to Lismore to see a client this weekend and will be grilling her about her long battle against their relentless armies so hopefully when I get back next week we will have a plan . . . .

A brave dog, a tough man and a fading wife

by . Posted on
22 Jan

Back to peace and quiet (I miss those kids!!) and as soon as the Grippers drove away on the next leg of their ‘Holiday Coast’ adventure, the sun disappeared, the heavens opened and the deluge resumed!

Thus we are back to parking on the ‘other side’ of the river and riding home in the Flying Fox.  Whoever is doing the winding gets a fine upper body workout, but pulling yourself across hand over hand is very wearying!  Phoenix leaps in and out with panache and daring and stays still for the crossing, and when he has to stay behind sits longingly on the platform watching until we get to our cars before he takes up his ‘watching’ position on the verandah or snuggles up on the wicker sofa for a snooze.
The only time he has braved the big waters was when the Grippers had first arrived and we all traversed the river on the fox to go for a drive up to Comboyne.  Poor Phee must have thought that there was no way his newly rediscovered friends were going anywhere without him so as the last of us stepped off the fox I heard distant yelping and had horrific visions of Phee hurtling down the rapids at the end of the House Pool so I clambered down the rocks, screaming for him.  Only to hear Angus say ‘he’s here, Sophie’ and there was a small, bedraggled, black dog with wildly waving tail jumping all over his Gripper friends having swum the raging river and clambered (somehow!) up the sheer rock face.  He’s living proof that ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way!’
George has been in tears and sick with worry because Marcia woke up one morning unable to move and he had to carry her into the bathroom etc.  She was in so much pain and he was in a complete panic.  Ged rang me and told me he’d met George on the road and heard the sorry tale so I rang and said I would go up and massage her (she has arthritis in one hip and needs a replacement but apparently they won’t do replacements on Alzheimers patients because the anaesthetic adversely affects their brain).  When I got there Marcia was in tears of pain and frustration and Mavia who lives further up the road from us and who has been looking after Marcia a day or two a week while George works had got her washed and dressed etc.  We got her on a spare bed for a massage and eased up the cramping in her thigh and calf until she was walking normally again, but the next morning the same thing happened and every time George tried to move or touch her she just screamed with pain so he called the ambulance.  Marcia was admitted to Wauchope hospital for tests and condition assessment (ie was she able to live at home) while we all counselled George that the best thing that could happen was that the authorities make the decision that he simply didn’t have the wherewithall or facilities to care for her deteriorating condition at home.  Poor George, he was lost without her.  While caring for her had been exhausting and often demeaning, she was the axis on which his world turned, and now he had no focus, no point, no pole star to guide his way.  We took him food and had him here and rang the neighbours to rally him, but it was so sad to see him, who is so strong and sure, falter on his path.
As we predicted, the powers that be decided that Marcia must be cared for in a home and she was admitted to one in Laurieton and we are trying to pick up the pieces as George grieves his wife, their married life and the end of their time together.  It is worse than death to see someone you love so much and for so long, fall apart and lose sight of themselves and all normalcy as they disappear into a fog of endless forgetfulness.  Say a little prayer for a tough man who is cracking and a beautiful woman who should be spared the humiliation of a childlike dependence in an adult body and a slow demise into dementia.  Please God, there is a better end for us all.

Slow progress and paint stripping

by . Posted on
08 Jan
On New Year’s Day we left Phee with the hungover hosts and went shopping for something for Ged and his best man, Steve, to wear on the big day.  Success!  As usual, I had a vision in mind, and we managed to find the right jackets and shirt even if the pants were all the wrong sizes, but at least that gives me an on-the-phone challenge for the New Year!
Back to Avalon and work on the farm and on the house.  We were preparing for the imminent arrival of the Grippers, so Ged replaced the platform for the Flying Fox on the house side, and also made an all new ‘basket’ lining so it was solid and safe for my beloved Gripper kids.  We ordered an ‘enviro-loo’ from Brisbane which came complete with Cane Toad (oh. my. God!) and set it up in one of the old corrugated iron ‘builders bog’ that we inherited with the property.  Ged also made a sink stand and a wooden base for an ablution block out of sleepers and piped cold water to the site.  We never quite got to the hot water, but we will one day . . . .!
I stripped and sanded a little antique table I had and spent a day stripping a window – layer upon layer upon layer of paint, dating from sometime early in the last century and STILL the window is not close to being ready for painting – ugh!  I put another coat on the ceilings and painted yet more doors.  Other than that, we read some good books, went for some nice runs and enjoyed staying on the property.  The weather was glorious, the river peacable and pristine and we spent a lot of time platypus watching which was bliss (the new Flying Fox platform is the perfect platypus viewing post!)
Slow progress is being made!

The Myrtles in full bloom over Christmas.

The First Flood

by . Posted on
27 Aug

The first flood!

First it spitter spattered, and then it poured . . . and poured . . . and poured! Monday night saw me hauling the water pump out of the path of the rising tide by car light as the deluge continued (amazing how much strength the fear of flood pumps to muscles more accustomed to mouse than manpower . . . )

By Tuesday I was completely marooned. Funny, I had always dreamed of living on an island, and now I do! The water came up somewhere between 9 and 10 feet overnight. We had about 6 inches of rain over three days across a wide catchment area and most of it ended up in my river! Even Angle Creek was a raging torrent so the only way out or in was to be winched across on the Flying Fox. I braved it on Wednesday when the water was much lower and Ged delivered necessary supplies from the supermarket and the mail (!) but other than that it was just me and the radio, a few paintbrushes, two cans of gloss and a helluva lot of woodwork!

I have been forced over to Radio National as I can’t seem to get the ABC here. I was very resistant at first but the quality, intelligence and relevance of the programmes have won my heart! Very often they are consumed with debate about complex spiritual or philosophical tussles and I love it! My other great love is Classic FM. We are so lucky here to have advertisement free Classical music which isn’t trying to explore the nether reaches of the Classical genre (Radio 3!) but is a good mix of all the greats with avant garde noise only occasionally!

I have also been re-reading Daddy’s book. I am ashamed to admit that ten years ago I had lent my personalised copy to an Aussie Army friend, who disappeared to Darwin with it, never to be seen or heard from again. So I have tracked down a copy courtesy of my trusty friend Google and have been taking advantage of the grey and gloomy skies to meander through his Tour. With the benefit of age, and one would hope a little wisdom, it sheds light not only on the man and his integrity, but the stress my parents were under through that halcyon summer of 1976, and how very alike father and daughter really are!

It seems that only the dates and the places and the people have changed, the conflicts continue somewhere, somehow, somewhy . . .

Last week when I was out and about in Wauchope and scanning the charity shops for a costume to wear to a ‘gangsters and molls’ 40th next weekend, I found a lovely pair of wing back chairs with matching sofa for $80 so I snapped them up and hustled them into Port and the upholsterer. Hopefully by Christmas I will have them home (will I have a home by then??)

Saturday saw Ged and myself barrow loading river rocks onto the end of the causeway to fill in the gouge left by the raging torrent, so he could get in (having recovered from this foul flu that has been doing the rounds, and killing more than it cured. . . ). Then we took his ‘n’ hers chainsaws over to ‘the other side’ so I could have a supervised lesson and we could cut some much needed firewood. Man, it’s heavy!! Then we sourced the spring that I was convinced was feeding my beautiful dam so that was very exciting and I now have plans for further dams in that area. Between George and Ged and their ongoing education of the female city slicker, I will become a farmer yet!

Sunday has been a full on day of activity as the linen cupboard was finished off with beading and its newly painted doors returned to it. The final touches making the pantry perfect, the new front door cut down to size ready for my painting and a huge number of tobacco trees and lantana pulled out of the Angle Creek Bridge area. Ged has taken the week off work to put some serious effort into making a difference here and at least I know that whatever I pay him is money well spent as he is even more of a perfectionist than any of the Mortons!

And I am the one exhorting less bloody perfection and more bloody speed!