Heather McGregor
From early November in Canberra, we were troubled by smoke from bushfires. We had toxic air for weeks. We wore masks to go outdoors. Visibility was seriously reduced. We all focused on air rater apps, which gave disturbing reports about our air being many times above dangerous. Yet we had to go on breathing it.
Thus for me the threat of a bushfire was more disturbing than ever, with the obvious impact of climate change upon us, and the volatile context of the dreadful drought. Braidwood had been under threat from fire since mid-November. The Currowan forest fire closed the Kings Highway, and fires raged on the coast between Nowra and Batemans Bay, closing the Princes Highway. So from early summer, we had been clearing our block at Rosedale of dead leaves, bark and debris from the trees and pruning shrubs, with our green bin always full and small truck loads going off to green waste.
On 14 December I drove to Rosedale with a small water pump I had bought to attach to our water tank, along with fire protective equipment for us both, spare hose fittings, and fuel for the water pump. I wanted to be able to manage myself, given Andrew was overseas so much. I employed a yardman to clear out the leaves from under the front part of the house, a back breaking job I didn’t want to do. Andrew had also cleared leaves from the gutter when he was there, and we both spent a weekend in early December more deeply clearing our block. I drove down on 14th December via the Kings Highway, however it was closed two days later and I had to return via the burnt out Princes Highway and Nerriga, 4.5 hours instead of 2 hours.
We arrived at our house on Xmas day for a planned six week stay, and Tamar and Norah arrived on 26 December for 2 weeks, and even though it had only been two weeks since I had done a yard clean up, we needed to do it all again. At least the air was clear, and we could see the sky, unlike in Canberra. We took a full green bin and a final trailer load to green waste on 27 December, dismayed by how much bark was still falling. Andrew slaved in the yard cutting down the native grass clumps and pruning shrubs. I removed the plumbago from under our deck, a potential ladder for flames, and together we cleared the block as much as we could, leaving the fire-retardant pittosporums. I removed attached bark from around the base of our large spotted gums and cleared the ground around them.
The day of 30 December 2019 could not have been more pleasant and summer normal on our beach. Norah and I spent time on the beach in the morning, and Norah went down again in the afternoon with Tamar. The beach was alive with families having fun and kids doing their beach and ocean things happily. There was a sense of a common Australian beach holiday. Norah made a friend on the beach and had such a wonderful time she didn’t want to leave. She begged each of us to stay on the beach with her, well after 5pm when all adults were ready to relax and was seriously disappointed to have to come up to the house. A plan was made for her to meet up with her friend the next day. We were oblivious to the disaster ahead.
When we went to bed on 30 December there was no indication of imminent danger for us. We considered nights to generally be much more benign, so we went to bed expecting to reassess in the morning as we had every other day. We had all become obsessed with checking the “fires near me” website and in particular watching the progress of the Deua River fire which we assumed to be our greatest threat. We were also at this stage watching our news apps. We were confident that we were as prepared as we could be. Norah had a running joke, “its adults check their fire apps time!” [At 10pm Tamar received a text from a friend that contained a predicted ember and fire attack for 31st. Rosedale was not within the predicted area.]
However, at 6am on 31 December we received a text alert from the RFS and we leapt into action. The text read, “NSWRFS EMERGENCY BUSH FIRE WARNING – Mogo- Leave now to East towards the beach and shelter in place.” We could see from our app that the fire had extended two long fingers south-east from the main fire and were stunned by how quickly it had raced towards us. Rosedale and Nick’s house were directly south-east of one of those fingers. We followed our plan and by 8am we had supplies for about three days down on our beach, towels, a large blanket for cover and lots of drinking water and food. I went to the occupied houses in our part of the street to make sure people had received the text. People at 67, 71 and 73 were all gone before 8am. I met up with Joe from 63 who was staying, and together we established a plan that we would look out for each other and decide together when we had to go to the beach.
Between 8 and 9 we tried to eat, I put Norah in front of ABC kids, Tamar and Andrew took our cars to the south Rosedale car park near the beach. At 9am the power went out and Tamar, Norah and Symbol went to the beach.
Our fire plan was to stay, if possible, to defend our house against ember attack. We only contemplated this because we had the beach to retreat to if safety became an issue. We were prepared with the water pump and hose connected to our water tank, two hoses connected to taps, a fire fighting backpack and buckets and a bin filled with water. We had smoke masks, goggles, gloves, all our skin covered and a wet towel tied around our necks. We had moved everything that might blow into windows of the house and cause damage.
Andrew and I then prepared to put out spot fires. Andrew cleared the gutter yet again, and we left the ladder there to make access quick and easy (however later we discovered the ladder had been blown over the deck well to the east of our house). I started hosing the house but it was dry in minutes. I used the small water pump attached to our water tank to wet the ground between our carpark and the house. We had three hoses ready to go. I hosed the ground under the deck, the underside of the deck and posts, the upper deck, the wooden ramp and then I got the idea of hosing our garden blocks as they retained moisture better than the house walls and saturated the path of stone steps along our northern fenceline.
It very soon became obvious that the fire storm would make a mockery of our plans to put out flying embers. We talked with Joe and he was surprised that we had no assistance from the RFS water bombers. We realized we were on our own and should go to the beach. There were no flames yet in sight, but we experienced extreme, unbearable heat and a black wall of cloud was building rapidly and the wind was gale force. So we put our hoses inside and left for the beach believing we would lose the house. We felt an unusual calm. We think this was about 10.30am. Andrew took his fire-fighting backpack and I took an extra bucket of water. Norah and Tamar were sitting in the waves of the rising tide sheltering under a wet towel.
We soon realised that Boatshed Beach was not the best place to be so we set about moving our supplies and bags etc to the south Rosedale beach. This was not easy. The wind was ferocious and we were being showered with embers ahead of the front. I was actually blown over and realised that I just had to sit down. The south Rosedale beach was much better. A number of people, children and dogs arrived on the beach, all seeking a sense of togetherness, watching out for each other, and comforting each other.
We were so hot we wet our clothes and towels and covered our belongings to protect them as well. Tamar cuddled poor frightened Norah the whole time and Symbol stayed close to them. I had planned for us to shelter under a blanket but I was unable to control it in the wind so I got the not so bright idea to wet it to make it stay down, but then it was too heavy to move. So I now have a new insight into what being a “wet blanket” means ….
Embers started falling on the dunes. From the beach the first flames became visible as a burst of fire in the shrubs on the middle of South Rosedale beach erupted around 10.40am. It was as if a ball of fire had flown there from the North. Shortly afterwards flames became visible on the ridge above Boatshed Beach (our beach).
The fire came over the top of the ridge from the northern end of Yowani road and began consuming the first houses at that end. At the same time embers landed at the bottom of the cliff setting it alight and fire raced up the cliff face. In no time the whole of north Rosedale ridge was ablaze. Our house was enveloped in black smoke and was very difficult to make out. We watched the horror in absolute disbelief. It was surreal. When I decided our house was gone I walked back to Tamar and Norah calmly thinking we are all safe. I realised I had resigned myself to losing our house.
By this time the fire had jumped to South Rosedale and within seconds had raced to the headland, across from Jimmy’s island. It was like watching vertical lightening speed ever so quickly from our ridge to Jimmy’s Island with a trail of smoke, flames and embers threatening destruction of all in its path.
We also heard explosions which appeared to come from the carpark in which we had left our cars and we assumed both our cars were destroyed. (In fact we later discovered that all these cars had survived but that cars in another parking area a bit to the south had been destroyed)
Then the southerly arrived, apparently at 11.15am, bringing a dramatic drop in temperature. And we froze. Because our clothes were wet we were all shivering, and the towels and blanket which might have helped were all wet. We had bags with dry clothes and jumpers and Tamar had a jacket but she in particular didn’t ever get warm. This was her worst thing. Norah was warm but frightened and held firmly in Tamar’s arms throughout with Symbol lying close to them. Norah at some point fell asleep. When we were settled in our huddle we tried to eat and drink. Then Andrew and I went and took some photos from our beach at 11.18 and 11.35am respectively.
I think the next thing that happened following the wind change was that Andrew walked over to the carpark and came back with the astonishing news that our cars were both ok. Tamar and I looked at him in disbelief. We couldn’t get the idea to sink in. Andrew also said he thought our house might be ok.
So Andrew and I walked back to our beach and looked up at the ridge. The wind change was blowing smoke to the north in the opposite direction of the firestorm and we saw the A line roof of the top of our house with flames on the ground all around. Again I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought I must have imagined it. I said to Andrew that we must get up there, but I didn’t know how this would be possible.
When it was clear that the first frenzy of destruction from the firestorm was over, we think at about 12 noon, Tamar saw Joe climb up his cliff steps to start protecting his house. He wrapped himself in wet towels as he had to get through flames. Andrew decided we could try to get up to our street from above the lagoon so we told Tamar what we intended and climbed up the nearest fire-free path between 57 and 59, to Yowani Road. This was my worst thing. The sheer exertion of the frantic climb nearly did me in. I tripped over a stupid piece of pipe and nearly lost it. When I stood up I saw our house still standing. This was a heart in my mouth moment. Andrew and I had a very desperate hug, maybe with relief, or maybe he was relieved I got up after having fallen.
The Reid houses across the road from us, 56 and 58, had both been flattened by fire. Number 60 and 62 were still standing and not on fire. As far as we could see to the north along the west side of Yowani Rd the rest of the houses were all gone. All the houses to the north of our house on the east side of Yowani Rd, including number 71 next door, were already destroyed although still burning, and the four to the south of us were not on fire.
Andrew started work on putting out fires at the Yowani Rd side of our house and I realised immediately the role our own carpark on Yowani Road had had in acting as a fire break. I went through the house checking for embers inside, under the house and the roof, but it was incongruently all ok.
Then I grabbed a hose from inside the house and saw flames outside, close to our front windows. I set about putting these spot fires out. I remember getting really cranky, and having to calm myself, because the hose had kinks from being quickly bundled inside. The steps to the beach were partially in flames and the railings along the path to the beach steps were flaming and smouldering so I hosed it all, fearing the southerly would blow fire towards our house. There was also fire along the fenceline between us and our northern neighbours. The spot fires I put out came very close to the front of our house. Then we put out fires on the property to the south (67). There was a significant woodheap fire to the east, another to the west near our gate, and I hosed burning embers in leaf litter on the southern side of our boundary fence, between us and 67, adjacent to a kindling pile and wooden boxes under their house. We believe we saved 67 from destruction from the southerly as well, as there were no flames left to be fanned, yet so much potential for fire to catch and burn the house down, thus threatening our house from the southerly.
I went up onto the deck to check inside the house again, and I noticed Tamar on the beach looking up at our house so I was able to give her the thumbs up from the deck, hoping she understood my message. (Tamar did understand and was so incredulous that when she got back to South Rosedale beach she gave a stranger a big hug of disbelief and shock! Norah was asleep at this point).
I then worked uphill from our house using the pump to douse fallen trees across the road and Andrew worked between us and the northern house, now demolished and smouldering. Our wood pile there had caught fire and the fire was beginning to accelerate. We caught it just in time.
I inadvertently dragged a hose across some burnt ground and damaged it and Andrew calmly repaired it. We made sure we had a heap of spare fittings, but I couldn’t believe he would have the calm in the circumstances to actually do a repair on a hose.
Fortunately, most our property remained free of fire because we had largely eliminated the ground fuel by clearing leaves and cutting down long grasses. This became obvious to us as our minds started working outside the immediate demands.
A small emergency services vehicle arrived, perhaps doing a quick reconnaissance, and was about to leave so I ran up to the driver and after acknowledging how stretched they must be, asked if he could get us some help to deal with the leftovers of the firestorm like burning trees at risk of falling and starting more fires. He said he could see what he could do. There hadn’t been a sign of aerial assistance or fire trucks.
Joe’s house (63) had been well prepared, protected by a sprinkler and surrounded by concrete. He worked hard to save the house next door to his at 61, using his hose and water pump. He shared the same fears about the southerly threatening his house.
At 1.34pm number 62 on the west side of Yowani Road burst into flames, yet number 60 was not alight. However at 2.30 both houses at 60 and 62 exploded. We realized that these houses were victims to flames fanned by the southerly.
Then things changed again. The two houses between which we had found a path up to our house 59 and 57, ignited, followed by 55. They eventually exploded at around 2.24pm. The southerly had pushed the flames back up the cliff above the lagoon. I shall never forget the noise. It was like a jet engine screaming for about 15 minutes then a massive explosion. I had no fear. Maybe I was numb. I certainly felt safe where I was. The southerly which had cooled the unbearble hot air, allowing us to breathe, given us strength to climb up the cliff, and pacified the firestorm, caused its own wave of destruction as we powerlessly watched on.
Two fire trucks arrived at 2.36pm and water bombing helicopters started dumping water around 2.40pm, first on the boatsheds, then on these three house 59, 57 and 55. I asked a fireman what the noise was and he said it was gas bottles releasing streams of gas that then ignited and roared like a jet engine. The water bombing went on for a short time and then stopped and the fire truck disappeared. Houses at 59, 57 and 55 were lost and 53 and 61 were saved probably as a result of the water bombing.
One thing that disappointed me greatly was that a fireman asked Andrew and Joe to look for a hydrant. I assumed they would have that knowledge readily available. (We realized much later that the road had recently been resealed and the painted arrows indicating the location of the hydrants had not been replaced). The fire trucks did not provide any assistance, hoses were not used, it was all too late.
Everything slowed down and was calm. I just kept going around and around putting out spot fires and dousing smouldering embers. We didn’t run out of stored water and the supply wasn’t cut off. Andrew decided to go to the beach to get Tamar and Norah, probably around 3.30pm, and I stayed doing spot fire duty. It was good to be able to get the hose spraying across the road using our pump, as trees there were threatening us.
I became worried that Andrew had been gone a long time, fearing he had been trapped on the way to the carpark, so I spoke to Joe and discovered his path to the beach was still passable, so I went looking for Andrew. I eventually found Andrew, Tamar and Norah feeling much warmer in the car, having laboriously carted all our emergency supplies off the beach to the cars. We all drove up to the house and marvelled at the situation, especially our beloved house, next door to the burnt ruins a few metres away. It was a quite bizarre sight, unreal and unimagineable. I still hadn’t truly believed what had happened.
We sat down in the security of our house, somewhat stunned survivors, and had New Year’s Eve dinner. With candles. Andrew had smoked trout, Tamar and I had oyster entree and a prawn sandwich, and Norah had a cheese and avocado sandwich. Not quite put together in the way we imagined but good food nevertheless, (all of which had been with us on the beach in an esky). And Andrew and I had one glass of wine. We just felt exhausted and greatly relieved.
We were further gratified and relieved when Tamar gave us a particularly pleasing analysis of what we had just been through, being very pleased to have been part of a survival story, and participated in a well-managed crisis. She assessed that we had followed our plan, stayed focused and calm, been resourceful, sensible, and safety conscious, and that she and Norah had had a good experience of dealing with a disaster. This was music to our ears. There was not a moment when our lives were at risk. We were all at once euphoric and exhausted. Norah was happy and in great shape and went to bed peacefully.
We kept vigilant and used our hoses to deal with little flames next door, down the cliff and across the road. I eventually took buckets and put out a persistent and significant fire next door. We went to bed with alarms set so that we could share doing regular checks around our house during the night. Everything was very calm all night. We still had water but no power or news or contact. We had lost ABC radio before the firestorm hit us.
In the morning, 1 January 2020, the owners of the now burnt down house next door arrived and through talking to them we were told that all the roads out were closed so we assumed we couldn’t leave.
Nick and Heike arrived at our place and we had water and xmas cake, and Tamar made cold coffee out of half a cup left in the pot. Three of us enjoyed the taste. They were stunned to see Rosedale and we commiserated inadequately with them about their devastating loss. At 3.10 on 31.12.19 I received a text from Nick telling us that their house had burnt to the ground, but despite receiving the text, I had been unable to get a response to him to send.
Nick, Tamar and I walked up to Dale Place to see if we could get any coverage and there was a news crew there. Nick knew a few of the people in Dale Place and we heard a story about a separated couple who both thought the other had died for about 3 hours before finding each other again.
A very lovely media man let me use his sat phone and I tried to call Andrew McG but got through to Anthony. I asked Anth to send info re roads in a text to see if there was a way out for us, and to tell as many people as possible that we were ok. I explained over a very patchy connection our predicament, no power, no news, no internet therefore no access to helpful apps. I said we would drive to Batemans Bay to try to get coverage. I also told Anth that Nick and Heike’s house had burnt to the ground. And there were no houses left to the north of us in Yowani Road.
Seventy houses were lost in North Rosedale. About forty houses were lost in Yowani Road and Dale Place, including all those to the north of us, on both sides of the road – perhaps a dozen. Ours was the first house in the path the fire front that did not succumb. Among the losses were the four Reid houses, Keiko Schmeisser’s, Collete Dinnigan’s Bruce Kent’s and the Pentony’s – some people we had known for many decades.
Tamar and I decided to drive into BB to see if we could get coverage but first went to the fire station. The traffic going into BB prevented us from going further. When we passed through Malua Bay we were shocked by the number of cars and people seeking refuge and queues into the IGA. The scenes were psychologically silent, numbing and deafening.
When we got to the fire station my phone began receiving texts so Tamar was able to use my phone to send some texts and call Anne, (her Optus coverage was nonexistent) while I asked firies for an update, but they seemed quite flummoxed themselves. Then when I went back to the car my mobile received another number of texts including useful screen shots of apps from Kelli (which unfortunately wouldn’t download) and then a route home in words, devised by Anthony and Andrew McG. We tried to make sure that everybody knew we were ok as we received several messages from a number of very concerned people. It had been horrible and upsetting not being able to tell people we were ok.
I was able to phone Anthony and heard the concern in his voice about a very threatening weather forecast and his advice that we should get out as soon as possible. Andrew McG was wanting to come to us to help so I called him as well and told him we were coming home and he explained the route to me. Their help and advice was so valuable and empowering as we were without access to information of any kind. Not even ABC radio. We would have just been left with “no way out”.
We drove back to Rosedale through swarms of dismayed people along with signs offering free food. The journey made us realise that North Rosedale really suffered near annihilation in the firestorm, but there was fire damage everywhere.
It took us a while to pack up as we were in a chaotic mess but we left our house at 2pm. We took coast roads to avoid highway closures and headed to Moruya, Narooma, Bermagui, Tathra, all towns without power therefore no available fuel. Lots of people were riding around on bikes and Tamar wondered if their cars were out of petrol. It was like travelling three sides of a rectangle to get home.
Every time we got phone coverage Anthony called and so I reported our progress. When we got to Bega and saw traffic lights we celebrated, and even more so when we found a petrol station without a long queue. We filled both cars and bought coffee to address withdrawal headaches, (no coffee or tea for two days) Andrew inexplicably lost his, grabbed some chocolate, and set off for Cooma. Andrew drove Tamar’s car to give her a break. There were more abandoned cars on the road than usual. We felt so fortunate to be able to leave without a problem. Without the information Anth and Andrew had provided us about which roads were still open allowing us to leave, we might not have been able to get out. It was like escaping from an unfolding disaster area.
Richard phoned while we were in Bega to kindly offer for us to stay with them in Cooma, but once we got fuel we desperately wanted to get home.
The road up the Brown Mtn was very smokey but the traffic was moving along quite well. I found the beautiful Brown Mtn forest very therapeutic. The road all the way from Cooma was clouded in thick brown smoke. We took 6.5 hours to get home. And what a welcome reception we got. Anthony and Kelli had cooked dinner for us and provisioned our fridge and pantry. Our kitchen was restored to a useful state, having all been packed away for our kitchen renovation starting on 14 January. Andrew McG had made a vegan chickpea curry for the freezer. He and Christine and the girls were here waiting for us, along with Anth, Jye and Ash and Anne. So hugs of relief all around and we have rarely felt so loved.
(an earlier much shorter version of the above was sent to friends and family on 2 January 2020. So many people were worried about us and we couldn’t tell them we were ok which felt ghastly)
On 15 January 2020 when the Kings Highway reopened and again on 21 January I went back to our house. The drive down the Clyde was deeply traumatizing. The beautiful forest destroyed. Such widespread tragic destruction. I sobbed most of the way.
Yowani Road was closed to traffic but was busy with heavy vehicles and workers cutting down trees and others spraying suspected asbestos amongst the rubble. I was greeted by kindly people from the RFS, the Council and the Red Cross. The power was still out and telecommunication sporadic and unreliable. There was a hard-working horticulturist from Tasmania, brought up to provide advice about which trees could be saved, and he came to tell me I wouldn’t be able to drive out for a while. I asked him did he think our trees would survive, given the scorched leaves. He loves spotted gums and was so admiring of ours and noticed that we had had work done on them. He started to tell me how they heal themselves, so I showed him how the tree near our deck had healed wondrously where we had a branch removed and he was as moved and impressed by this as Andrew H has been.
I made some interesting observations on these return visits.
The paint on the north wall of our house above the ramp had blistered in places and as well, some of the H joiners holding the hardy-plank in place had melted. The paint on the backs of our deck chairs was badly blistered. All of this describes the severity of the heat attack on our house from the NW firestorm.
I found some unconnected patches of burnt ground under the deck. These must have been caused by flying embers but didn’t progress because there was so little fuel on the ground.
I noticed that the small trees between our house and 67 were burnt at the top, especially at the east and west corners of the house. There was no burning at the base of these trees indicating the fire from the NW had come over our roof and burnt the treetops.
There were burnt patches on the ground on the 67 side of the fence between our house and 67. On the day of the fire, I had hosed live embers in leaves accumulated along this fence line. These burnt patches were very close to a house post at the NE corner of 67, and kindling and wooden boxes were under the house nearby.
Our house was the first of five houses in a north-south row that survived. It appeared that the other four had been to some extent sheltered from the northerly firestorm by our house, and Joe’s solid preparation and efforts enhanced the reprieve. The Yowani row of five.
I noticed the low hedge running between the third and fourth of these houses, 65 and 63, (Joe’s house) was unburnt, still with flowers, immediately between the houses, protected from the north wind by number 65. However the sections of hedge protruding to the east and west beyond the protection of number 65 were burnt in both these areas. This was clear evidence that the effects of the fire had extended well to the south of our place before the southerly arrived.
Passers by all want to say how lucky we were. Only we know the whole story.