Lots of conversations around here these days start with “How’d you go with the floods?” and then we each tell our story about where we were and how we fared when three weeks ago flood waters inundated our town and surrounding towns. I suppose you’ve heard about it. Perhaps you were here too.
Our story goes a little something like this…
We woke up to a strange silence, except for the light patter of rain. When we looked outside we saw why the street was so quiet - overnight the road had flooded and the water was ankle deep in our yard. We remained optimistic that our place wouldn’t actually flood, since water has never before been in our home, despite other flooding events, from the time it was built in the early 40s. So we casually moved the things in the shed up onto our back deck (since the shed is on ground level and our home is 4 steps higher than that) and brought inside what couldn’t fit on the deck… Then we carried on with the morning routine of breakfast and games. Bobby’s brother Marty, his wife Corinn and their two kids were visiting so the cousins happily played inside with my two, as they had been doing all week due to the wet weather. Meanwhile the Marty and Corinn packed their bags, expecting that they’d leave once the water receded, probably later that day.
The rain didn’t stop and I received a message in a Book Club group chat from someone asking if there was anyone who could go and check on her Nan who they couldn’t get to because they were flooded in at their place and they couldn’t contact on the phone because she is hard of hearing. They had called the police already and the SES but they were worried that given the situation it might be sometime before they could get to Nan, Ilma. By this stage the water was knee deep in the shed but only up to the third step at our place. It looked like it might get close to coming in the house now but we were still hopeful that perhaps it wouldn’t.
I decided to wade out to the street and run down to check on Ilma before it became impossible to do so. Marty came with me and wisely advised me to wear sneakers so I didn’t hurt myself wading through the murky water. He dragged the kayak with us as we weren’t sure if we were going to have to help Ilma to safety.
Walking through town was a novel experience. The center of the road was still visible but the edges and the footpath were mostly under. We squelched past the RSL where many had evacuated to and noticed that to even get into the RSL you had to wade waist deep to get to the steps.
I found Ilma happily watching TV in her house, miraculously dry though I couldn’t quite fathom how given her place appeared to be in a low area. It must have been the enormous ditch outside her place that was doing its job. I left Ilma where she was and asked an SES worker positioned outside the RSL to help me evacuate her but when he saw her safe and comfortable inside and weighed up the risk of getting her through the ditch he said she’d be better to stay put. I made him promise to keep an eye on her and sloshed home. On the way home I checked in on another neighbour, Morag, who I knew was on her own but she’d already left. I wondered if we ought to head too. There seemed to be a lot of people now wading or kayaking to safety.
Back at our place the water was now a millimeter off the front deck, and even me walking through the gate was enough to create a wave that threatened to go inside so I moved slowly. Of course, next minute someone drove their 4WD past and the water did indeed go inside. “Slow down! Slow down!” everybody screamed. Still, we thought that might be the worst of it. Until the water started seeping in through the walls and the floor.
We popped the kids on the kitchen chairs and read them stories while the water slowly started to rise. Soon it was mid shin deep inside. We were telling the children “cross your legs and don’t let your toes dangle in the mud water!”
Matilda was telling me “Mum, I think it’s time we went next door to Bernie’s”.
Bernie our neighbour lives in a two storey home and the bottom floor is really just a basement where she stores all her son’s things and photo albums and christmas decorations and the like.
Finally I agreed with Matilda and in two trips we kayaked the kids across to Bernie’s place.
Bernie and Paul and Bernie’s 91 year old Dad, Pat were all planning on staying put and we thought we’d join them there. But soon our kids had eaten Bernie out of house and home and we were also receiving advice to evacuate from the Surf lifesavers who were puttering past in their boats, so we decided to go.
We made our way in Paul’s larger kayak down the main street in two lots, with Marty and Bobby wading and guiding the kayaks along.
When we got to the spot where you could walk, Bobby and Marty went back to the house to try and put my lovely couch up higher and to see what else they could save and the kids and I went on.
We were actually laughing and skipping and marching in a line - Me, Matilda and then Albie… “Wait! Albie! Where are you buddy? Stick with Mum! No playing in the flood water! Come on! High ho! High ho! Off to the pub we go!”
We made it to the RSL where some friendly folk reached over to grab the kids as I lifted them over the ditch.
Inside there were people everywhere, most with a backpack or a plastic bag of stuff. I had not been thinking so straight when we decided to go, so all I had for us was a half eaten bag of corn chips, some of the kids clothes and their bathers! (I know, what the hell was I thinking!?) No jammies or toothbrush and for myself I brought just a random old Bollé jumper that my Mum bought for me on a bus shopping trip to the factory outlets in Collingwood in the mid 80s. It’s a trusty old fave and I was glad to have it with me but I really wished for some dry knickers and a bra and some facewash.
It was surreal watching the kids get right down to the business of playing and soon all the kids had a game going on called Boats where they lined all the chairs up as though on a boat and they pretended to drive around the RSL, honking their horn. They also periodically came up to ask for food and were pleased as could be when we said they could choose some Grain Waves from the Chip Machine in the club.
Eventually Marty and Bobby arrived back and brought with them sleeping bags! Smart cookies.
We set up a little position on the dancefloor and really only left the dancefloor to go to the bathroom - reminiscent of great nights out with my girlfriends. Walking through the poker machines and around to the toilets you could see little family groups huddled together in little makeshift camps. Some had got comfortable on the couches and were watching the News. The broadcast flipped between dire flood news to unimaginably horrific Ukraine War news and it continued like that all night long. I was glad we were not so close to the TVs as it enabled me to just stay focussed on our little possé and the needs of the moment for them. All around us volunteers or perhaps they were RSL staff were organising and helping folks. Someone arrived with a huge pile of blankets and sheets. Another person came to pick up all the rubbish and used water glasses. Behind the bar staff were cleaning, organising, giving water. When I was in the toilet somebody came by to clean and mop the floor. And then, at dinner time - a sausage sizzle for everyone and hot chips! There were even vegan sausages and fresh fruit to take.
I saw people helping set up blow up mattresses for oldies and others helping those who needed find a power point for their ventilator.
We got our brood settled on the floor and eventually we too lay down on the carpet to sleep.
During the night a random alarm went off all through the RSL… People had wondered whether the RSL might flood too so at first we thought it was happening but then the alarm stopped and so we all put our tired heads back down and dozed again but we were often interrupted by people talking loudly about the floods and what the tide was doing and other urgent stuff.
At about 6am Bobby crept out and left. I guessed he’d gone to check on things.
The kids woke shortly after and we had a breakfast of cut fruit that some angel had prepared for everyone at the RSL.
When Bobby arrived back, he told me that the flood waters had receded and we could get to our house. We decided we’d better go back and start work on cleaning up ASAP. Bobby left again to get a head start.
I was packing all our camping gear up when all of a sudden I saw a friend, Josh The Builder. We call him that because Bobby has another brother whose name is Josh and this friend Josh is a Builder.
I was so pleased to see his lovely, caring face but also confused. I had heard that his part of town was not flooded… “What are you doing here Josh? Are you guys alright?” I asked. “I’m here for you” was his reply. I cry just thinking about it. “We were flooded in so I couldn’t get here any sooner but we thought you and the kids might like to come back to our place.”
Josh and his beautiful wife Nikki have two kids slightly older than Matilda and Albie. Matilda overheard Josh’s offer. “Oh Mum PLEASE can we go visit Sybella and Ari? Please, please, please, please, PLEASE?” I smiled at her. “Yes, alright. Yes please Josh. That would be great.”
Matilda squeals with delight. “Best Day Ever!”
At Josh and Nikki’s there was warm showers and yummy breakfast and toys and the kids were soon having the best day ever, for real.
Josh and I then left Nikki and Corrin to care for all 6 kids on their own (probably not the best day ever for them!) and went to help Marty and Bobby with clean up.
The lawn and garden was a strange orange colour and the front door was open when I arrived home. It was bizarre to see Bobby spraying the hose madly in the middle of our hallway but soon I was doing it too. We found the best way to get the mud, which was about 5cm thick over all the floors, was to scrape it with a squidgee and scoop it into a bucket. Then we’d hose and mop.
At some point in the day when we’d largely got all the mud off the floors some friends of mine arrived and they got busy wiping all our cupboards and skirting boards.
Josh and Marty and Bobby were non-stop all day just scraping, hosing and lifting things back into place or chucking them on the pile in front of our house. I sort of wafted around doing stuff too - finding a new home for the kitchen items since the cupboards were all crumbling (made of chipboard), or taking muddy clothes out to the lawn for Marty to hose (our washing machine being kaput!) … and occasionally would break to have a laugh or take a video or chat over the fence to Bernie about how she was doing or to pop across to check on Morag.
Perhaps it sounds a little odd but I felt nothing but light and happy the whole time we were cleaning up after the flood. Every time I looked at the faces of those helping us, I felt a surge of gratitude that felt like my heart was swelling like a balloon. I was also receiving lots of messages of love and support from friends and family and it seemed to me then and still now that we must be the luckiest people in Mullumbimby. Here we were, the day after a catastrophic flood and we were all alive and well and receiving such wonderful support. Someone asked me how I was feeling and I replied “Ecstatic to be alive and so grateful!”
Even now, three weeks on, with the adrenaline worn off and while we’re still doing repairs and working on replacing things that were lost, I keep marvelling at how, though there’s a lot that’s not ideal or a bit harder than before, and lots to be disappointed about in the Government response and to despair about for those whose have lost absolutely everything, it feels like inside of me is this buoyant feeling of love and gratitude that is holding me up. We’ve been just so beautifully cared for by our friends and family and strangers too. And it’s all I see in the community and everyplace I go - people helping each other. And I feel hopeful and inspired. Even if there had never been a flood I don’t know if I would feel this good inside, such is the fullness and love.
If they were to invent a device that could measure goodwill and heartfulness it would be going off the scale right now around here.
Perhaps you’ve heard the stories of heroes on kayaks rescuing folks and their pets from their rooftops in Lismore or the Ninja Warrior star who hiked and abseiled into a dangerous landslide area to rescue a couple and their baby who were trapped in the mud, or the blind woman who managed to climb onto her roof and survived and was reunited with her guide dog at the rescue center… Those are certainly stirring tales that tug on the heart strings. But let me tell you about the sweet lady from Byron who knocked on my door a day or two after the flood with a huge tub in her hands and asked if she could take my washing. “I can’t give it to you I said, it’s covered in mud and smells awful” I said. “Well then I’ll hose it on my lawn and then wash it” she replies. The next day it wasn’t her but another woman who lives in her street who returns it smelling like frangipanis and vanilla, along with a fresh baked cake. “Every house in our street is now offering laundry service!” I could have kissed her and I’m sure my sister-in-law Corinn could have too - she’s the one who had already done about 12 tubs of washing in the bath!
And about the handyman who came after a week with a spraying device and large bottles of vinegar. “Can I help you treat for mould?” he asks. “I’m not sure if we need help with that” I reply. “Show me where the water came up to” he says. Then he helps us gently peel off a skirting board so that we can see that despite our best efforts to clean and dry everything behind the walls the insulation is all sodden with flood water, which spills out onto the floor. He stays and helps us take all the skirting boards off and treat them with vinegar. “Thank you so much for helping us.” I say to him. “Oh, don’t thank me. We’ve all got to give what we can, even if it’s $2 or just 20 minutes of your time.”
Our own personal angel Josh The Builder has been checking on us in between helping other folks in Mullum and in Ballina. Of course he comes straight over when I tell him about the water still trapped to help us figure out how to get the insulation out and what to do to make sure we don’t end up with a mould problem. He also checks in a few days later and brings a banana cake he has made for us and the kids.
Bobby’s brother’s car was a complete write off so he wasn’t able to escape the flood zone with his family until he managed to get a hire car. After a week of exhausting and dirty work (including removing the most disgusting smelling rotten pumpkin patch from our garden) they were finally able to leave.
That’s when Bobby’s parents arrived to help us some more. Before the flood they had planned to come for a visit and Poppy had packed his fishing rod and everything but unfortunately he didn’t get to use it. Instead we had him on the cutting the walls and removing the insulation job. Nanny meanwhile gave the children the attention they had sorely missed during the previous week while we were all distracted and also cleaned every skirting board with vinegar and wiped every speck of stray mud on the walls.
We’d been doing what we could to help our neighbours around us but with Nanny and Poppy in the house and caring for the little people I was free to do more. One of my oldest mates from school days, Brent, had turned up a couple of days after the flood with a car for us to borrow since ours was a write off, so after school drop off I travelled to Lismore and Coraki to lend a hand with the relief effort. I had heard that things were way worse there than even what we had experienced in Mullumbimby. It was true.
On the way into Lismore I saw caravans hanging from tree tops and then street after street of houses with their contents piled up on the outside. It reminded me of when you see road kill on the side of the road where an animal’s body has been cruelly ripped apart and the entrails are all unnaturally outside their body. Some of these homes were elevated a full storey above the ground but even still the water had gone up to the shingles on the roof.
The first house we went to it was such a shock that I felt overwhelmed and unsure if I was up to the task in front of me… I remember thinking, “Should we go to the next house? How can we make a difference here?” But I was fortunate to be surrounded by the generous, caring and strong yogis of the Creature Mud Army, assembled by the Creature Yoga studio owner, Bessy. You’ve never met a more humble and inspiring leader than Bess. When the floods hit she closed the studio and asked the community to instead lend a hand with the recovery effort. She gathered such a powerful crew. This team of huge hearted yogis, under the direction of the home owners, hauled toxic mud-caked, soaking carpet and couches and fridges and furniture out onto the street and helped the owners sort through treasures and trinkets and clothes and furnishings and crockery and all the pieces of lives that were now buried in mud. After a few hours, the many hands made a marked difference. And most importantly, I could see a glimmer of hope on the face of the people who lived there. Bessy and her team were out there doing that for full days 10 or 11 days in a row.
And they weren’t the only ones. There were groups like that all over the region. We saw surfing buddies and footy friends and staff from restaurants all out together in muddy boots and overalls, gloves on, getting into it.
At the end of the day on one of these trips my husband Bobby joked it’d be a great place to be if you were looking for love… “It’s quite a scene out here babe! Look at all these young, fit, good looking people roaming around doing muddy work!” Just as he said that, the Stone and Wood crew rolled up next to us. One of their team was on the back of a slow moving ute handing out icy beers from an esky to all the helpers. That day we had met Firefighters who had driven from Aberdeen overnight - 12 hours! - to come and help hose out buildings in Lismore. We pointed them out to the Stone and Wood boys to make sure they got a cold one too.
A Mullum neighbour had said something chuckle-worthy about those helping too. “I used to be a bit skeptical of all these hipsters moving into the neighbourhood” she confided. “But now, it’s all the handsome bearded blokes who are knocking on my door and helping me hose the mud out. I’ve decided I don’t mind them so much after all!”
I know a lot of people have commented on how much a community led effort the rescue and recovery has been but I feel like noting too, how amazing people are. It was extraordinary to see people just step up - like Bess, and the folk who were running things at the RSL that night and delivering food the next morning. And the people who have been and are still now running the donation centers in Mullum and Lismore and Coraki and the people organising emergency accommodation and hot meals for those who have been displaced.
Matilda’s school principal, a phenomonal leader named Pav, managed to organise a temporary location for school to take place in from the week following the floods and a school bus (that has to drive an hour around) to take kids who have been cut off by bridges that were destroyed. She did that while her own home was flooded!
There’s people hiking food in to those who are cut off and people opening their homes to strangers. There’s a crew of Tradies who have travelled up from Phillip Island and are camping up here and voluntarily rebuilding and repairing homes for those who have no insurance and whose homes are uninhabitable otherwise.
Like I said, it’s off the charts. I figure you must be able to see the glow of goodness emanating from these kind and resourceful folks from the moon.
And while the glow might be concentrated in these flood affected places to a degree, I can feel the warmth and goodness is coming from all over Australia.
My girlfriends in Melbourne wanted so much to help us and within days had deposited money in my bank account to help us replace our washing machine and drier and dishwasher. They didn’t ask me or even tell me they were doing it, they just did it. Then offered to help me research and find one, in case there was a shortage here. Three of those girls also booked and paid in full for my retreat in September which helped financially but also just thrilled me.
My family, including my Aunt and Uncle, Bobby’s family and also family friends including my Mum’s girlfriends from school, one of my Dad’s oldest mates and my school friend’s parents all contributed to our washing machine and drier and dishwasher. We are so enormously privileged to have such a network. Ordering three brand new items from the local electrical store within two weeks after the flood we felt both delighted (relieved) and a little bit embarrassed.
And when we got to the point where we had enough money to cover all those things, we still had people approach us to ask if they could send us money. I had to tell them how much I appreciated their generosity but that we were all good now!
It was then that I heard how it was for people interestate who were watching what was unfolding here and desperately wanting to help but were mistrustful of how the money would be handled by the big organisations - especially after the Red Cross had reportedly bungled the delivery of the funds for those affected by the Bushfires.
I realized in these conversations how much of a privilege it is to be a helper. To be on the ground and to receive all the glory for helping as well as to be able to be there in someone’s most vulnerable moments and be the one who is there for them. What a special thing. At the end of each day when I left folks we’d been with I was able to hug them and say “Thank you for letting me help you” and drive home feeling the warmth of that exchange and secure in the knowledge that I had helped. But those who are in other places don’t get that chance. They described feeling helpless watching it all on the news and wanting to contribute in a meaningful way but not feeling sure that donated monies will end up where it’s most needed.
Some people in response simply jumped in their cars and drove up - like my mate Luke and his convoy of Tradies, and my friend Annabel, who brought supplies from Victoria to Coraki and has stayed and helped there. Others have reached out to someone they know and asked, how can I help best - tell me where to send my donations.
Here’s what I have been telling those who ask me:
There’s a great amount of need here and many people are starting from zero. They are attempting to coordinate the donations so that a bunch of clothes don’t end up arriving that don’t have a destination and then have to be disposed of… So try and find a destination for those kinds of donations if that’s what you’d like to contribute.
If you’re wanting to donate cash to an organisation who is on the ground and really helping those in need, the Koori Mail has been epic in their response to the floods and has provided the whole community with much support and coordination and are one of the primary hubs for flood relief.
I’ve also seen the Byron Rangers doing great work in the community and helping many people with rescue and now recovery and emergency housing.
I also like what the Women’s Village Collective is about… They ordinarily help women who have been affected by the housing crisis here and are now doing that work for anyone who has been displaced due to the floods.
And then, if you want your money to go directly to someone in need, then the Creature Yoga Go Fund Me is going to the people whose homes we’ve cleared and who we know are in need of so much financial support now. There’s also an organisation called Givit, which lists the people and their specific needs and you can give what they need - money for a night’s accommodation, or a clothing voucher for someone who has no clothes for example.
I mentioned too a friend called Luke, who is up here with a bunch of tradies doing repairs on people’s homes. He’s got a Trade Support for Floods Go Fund Me going to buy the building supplies they need for those jobs.
These are a few organisations among many that I have seen doing great things to help those in need of immediate assistance.
Also, this is a Climate disaster. These catastrophic floods were predicted and expected as the impacts of climate change take effect. I heard someone say that, in the past decade, of the many millions of dollars that have been spent on Disasters like these (including the Bushfires and other floods), 97% has gone towards clean up and only 3% on prevention. We need to reverse this.
To prevent disasters like this we need to commit to combatting climate change. This means we need to stop all new gas and coal projects and get a wriggle on converting to a fossil fuel free future… which means we need new leadership in this country.
So if you have a desire to help, perhaps that’s something you can do? Help change the leadership of this country with your vote. And spread the word.
A couple of organisations that I love that are doing important work to combat climate change are Seed Mob who are an Indigenous youth-led environmental organisation fighting for climate justice and opposing the Government’s push for more coal and gas projects in the Northern Territory and Groundswell Giving, who provides grants to grassroots environmental groups so they can amplify their actions.
It used to feel to me like a lot of responsibility to take on, caring for the environment that is, and it seemed like a political issue and that scared me too. So I shrugged it off for a long time, feeling not quite across the issues enough to have a strong opinion… I’d quietly vote Green and choose green energy but tried never to get into a conversation with some people in my life about it fearful of their baffling arguments about the economy. But as Buddhist philosopher of ecology Joanna Macy says:
You don't need to do everything. Do what calls your heart; effective action comes from love. It is unstoppable, and it is enough.
Find something that feels like an act of love for the world. You don’t have to argue with anyone if that doesn’t suit you. You don’t have to do everything.
She also tells us it’s okay to not feel hopeful. In fact, she advocates for us to instead, let our heart break open so that we might make room to heal the world.
The biggest gift you can give is to be absolutely present, and when you're worrying about whether you're hopeful, or hopeless, or pessimistic, or optimistic, who cares? The main thing is that you're showing up, that you're here and that you're finding ever more capacity to love this world because it will not be healed without that. That was what is going to unleash our intelligence and our ingenuity and our solidarity for the healing of our world.
So that’s my story. It was a bit of a long one. Thank you for reading.
Main point is, we’re alright and we’re thankful for that. Huge enormous gratitude for that.