Roma 2012 flood beats 2010 record

If I thought yesterday was a crazy day, then it was clear I'd aint seen nothing yet. As of yesterday evening, Mitchell was in a bad way and Roma was predicted to get moderate flooding. This was before it rained all night across the west. Text alerts were sent out at 5am to say the situation was worsening in Roma but I didn't get it as the Victorian-led system is currently based on billing address and my bills go to Brisbane. I got up at 6am and set off to check out the water. I arrived at Charles St Bridge over the Long Drain (extension of the Bungil Creek) in time to watch police close it.

The creek was 6.6m and rising. I went into the 7am Disaster Management Group meeting where the BoM predicted a height of 7.5m for the Bungil. This meant major flooding on a par with the April 2011 event where under 50 houses went under but nowhere near the 8.1m catastrophe of March 2010 when over 200 houses were inundated. Mitchell was still in a bad way after last night with 400 people in shelters. After the meeting when I went out to have a look for myself, I was not confident the BoM was right. There was a lot of water in the flooded area already, sandbagging was proceeding furiously and I was hearing of massive falls in the catchment.

My own experience of watching Roma going under, now six or seven times (I've lost count) in 2 years, told me this was bad given there was a lot of water to come. Many people in the flood zone seemed to think so too and most were scrambling to move belongings to higher ground.

There were a lot of roads cut off and as I drove back to the office I heard the BoM tell the ABC, the new prediction was 8.1m - exactly the same as 2010. This was a disaster in the making.

Worse was to come at the office. I heard from the Toowoomba Chronicle scanner a woman and child had been washed off the Northern Road. I immediately drove as close to the scene as I could get. I parked my car and watched as fire trucks rushed away from the scene.

I hitched a lift through the flood and rang back to the office for them to collect the work car. I was worried it would go under and I would not be able to get back in time. When I got to the scene of the accident I asked eye-witnesses what they knew. I eventually found people who saw the whole thing. A woman and her son tried to drive through the floods to get to the Northern Road. Onlookers waved at her frantically to get her to stop. It was too late, the car flipped and the woman and son were washed out of the car. I was told they were both rescued and made my way back through the floods to town. It wasn't easy. I fell over ruining a work camera which got saturated.

I posted my third or fourth web update of the day to say the pair were rescued only to immediately find out my information might not be right. Someone I know in town rang up frantic to say the woman worked at her place and what did I know. I said I thought she was safe but that wasn't what she was hearing. I rang the police but they say they were "still getting to the bottom of it." I suddenly had a cold feeling I was wrong. The creek was still rising. I went out again only to drop a second camera in the rising waters. Surely this was greater than 8.1m?

It was. At 4pm I attended another Disaster Group Meeting. 8.5m was the new prediction and this was "unchartered territory" in the scary words of the BoM expert. Police also confirmed the woman was still missing (as was the car) but the son was safe. They were calling off the search as the number of urgent calls went crazy. With a sick feeling, I went back to the office to retract my earlier version of the story before heading out again. The flood boats were still taking people out of the danger zone.

Now the water was coming down McDowall Street where all the shops were. This didn't happen in 2010. Water was lapping the fire station and businesses were sandbagging. Water still had to come down from upstream and it was still raining. Where would it all end?

The creek finally stabilised at 8.5m. With the worst, and it was the worst, over it was time to hit the recovery centres. There were two. The Rec Centre was where everyone could sleep and the RSL Hall where people could eat. There people were tucking into KFC provided free by the local store. I just remembered how hungry I was and joined the party.

Back on the street, emergency services were mopping up for the night. There were still some who needed help like 10 people stuck on the roof of the Overlander Motel. Charleville and Mitchell were still in crisis and Roma had now joined it. Surat and St George downstream will face the music next. The one bright moment of a horrible day is when I bumped into Nev Clem. Nev found this poster in the flood zone. Did I want it, he asked. No, but I want your photo, I said. Nev obliged showing Defiance to the world. It will be a quality Roma and western Queensland will need in abundance in the dark and difficult days ahead.

Mitchell gets near record flooding

Some huge rainfall totals have left the nearby town of Mitchell cut off, some 90km west of Roma (and 570km south west of Brisbane). The situation is already worse than 1990 and getting close to the 1956 record flood. Unlike the big commercial TV stations such as Channel 10 I did not have the luxury of hopping on a helicopter to check it out (landing apparently contrary to local council directions). I was here in Roma running a solo operation trying to put out tomorrow's paper, attending the local disaster management group meetings, trying to get a sense of what was going on through discussion on our Facebook page and updating our webpage with new information during the day. Frazzled doesn't begin to describe my day...

We did get hold of some great pictures, through our Facebook contacts. First, by way of contrast, this is the Maranoa River at Mitchell last Saturday, looking east towards Roma. I took this photo when I though the river was swollen.

















But it was nothing compared to how it looked today. This second photo was taken by Jamielee Dodd in Mitchell around 8am today looking east to the bridge across the swollen Maranoa River.















This next one is by taken by Katrina Henry around the same time, 8am but from the other side of the bridge looking back to Mitchell. The river was at 8.2m at the time - around the same height as the 1990 flood.


















This one is from Deb Maiore taken at 9am at the bridge. With water still coming down from Currawong, 4 hours upstream, the State Government declared Mitchell a disaster area. An evacuation centre was set up at the RSL Complex at the western edge of town.

















Mitchell was completely cut off and with heavy rain still falling, the water reached a height of 8.75m at the Mitchell Bridge at lunchtime. Some 15 homes had water over the floorboards with another 40 to 50 houses expected to suffer damage with an expected peak of 9m (0.8m higher than 1990). With more rain expected and water still to come down from Currawong the Disaster Management Group, worried the RSL would be cut off from the rest of town, made the decision at their 2pm meeting to move the evacuation centre to the Council Depot immediately. This is another Deb Maiore photo.

















This final pic is from Maranoa Regional Council showing the extent of the flooding from the air (not sure what time). Mitchell is to the right of picture, the river to the left and the camera is facing south. While the river guages have been steady since around 4pm today, rain is still falling havily (as it is here in Roma). Local grazier and upcoming council election candidate Kent Morris told us heavy rain occured upstream this afternoon. "The River is rising again at Currawong tonight, expect to see the Maranoa start rising again around 11.pm," Kent said. The worst may not be over. It could be a long night ahead. and Mitchell holds its breath as to what will happen next. Downstream at St George could be in trouble too, especially when you add the waters from the swollen Balonne (via Surat) into the mix. I'll find out more at the 7am disaster management meeting.

A Walk up Carnarvon Gorge

Situated in pristine country, some 750km northwest of Brisbane is the Carnarvon National Park. The highlight is the astonishingly beautiful Carnarvon Gorge and I did the 240km drive north from Roma today to do some of its walks.





The full walk is over 10kms one way following the Carnarvon Creek with several detours along the way to interesting geology and human formations. I left Roma at 6am and got there at 8.30am. The rangers there recommended against the full walk with a very hot day (> 35 degrees C) expected. I still plumped for a tough 14km walk that took in four of the Gorge's intriguing diversions.




The geology of the area is complex. The white cliffs are sandstone and volcanic eruptions formed basalt caps.








The trail crisscrosses the creek on numerous occasions and it is important to keep an eye on the stones below as you hop across for fear of ending up in the drink.









I decided to go to the furtherest detour first and work my way back. And after 7km of walking I got to the Art Gallery, home to the Aboriginal rock art. Here Indigenous painters used stencils, quartzile tools, hand designs and free painting all the aspects of their lives. The life-size boomerangs, pottery, kangaroos and emu eggs are matched with a collection of vulvas unknown elsewhere in Aboriginal art. The thousand-year old stencils mix with more recent European etchings as people still want to leave their mark.




Next stop back is Ward's Canyon. The canyon is named for two brothers who camped here while trapping possums in the 1910s. The canyon is known for its tree ferns and king ferns. The king ferns are particularly impressive and this is only place away from the Australian coast you can find the threatened species. The two metre-long fronds rely totally on the water supply to keep them erect.





As the time crept towards midday, the sun was almost directly overhead making shade difficult to find and walking a hot and sweaty exercise. Plenty of water was required though the rangers don't recommend you drink the creek water.

















The third stop is the amphitheatre. The shape of the entrance (reached by 50 steps) is a clue perhaps as to why the Aboriginal graffiti was full of vulvas in this area.




















The amphitheatre is a magical spot. Like the Gorge, the amphitheatre was formed out of the erosion soft sandstone by the relentless forces of water. It is not hard to be awed by the spot and its cool shade was greatly appreciated today.














The last stop was the Moss Garden. The sandstone soaks up rainwater like a giant sponge. When the water meets an impenetrable layer of shale, the water moves sideways and trickles out from the wall. The constant moisture sustains a green oasis of mosses, ferns and liverworts. After 4 hours and 15km of walking in the hot sun, it was a relief to get back to base. The Carnarvons are a walker's paradise - but there is a reason it was quiet today. The tourist season is from April to October, when the temperatures are at least 15 degrees cooler.

Roma's record flood: Day 2.

At 5.45am on Wednesday morning I was jolted into life by my alarm. 15 minutes later I was on the road and driving to the council building. The rain had stopped. I did a quick detour to the Arthur St bridge which was flooded out yesterday. There was still plenty of water on the road but it looked passable today. I went into the council’s 6am emergency response meeting at the invite of the mayor. The price of entry was that it would be off the record but there were many things said there they wanted me to get out to a wider audience. (See Day 1 story here)

Roma had been declared an official state emergency site yesterday. The Bungil peaked at 8.1m at 1.30pm yesterday but had dropped a couple of metres overnight. They said a quarter of the town had been flooded and at least 200 properties had water damage inside the home. There were no fatalities or serious injuries though there was one report of snakebite. 34 evacuees came through the RSL. There was also talk of the Premier Anna Bligh visiting town later today on her way back to Brisbane from Charleville which was in even deeper strife. It was not yet certain when or if she would come at all given that the airport had been closed for almost 24 hours. I said I would chase up more info via her media liaison unit. The school principal also asked me to contact the ABC. ABC Local news was telling the world one of the three state school campuses was shut. It wasn’t and the principal asked me could I help get the right message out. After an hour of hearing reports from all the emergency services and a mixed weather forecast everyone left knowing the worst was over for now but it wouldn’t take much to rise again.
I went back to the office to catch up on emails and the Internet and take stock. Yesterday I was unable to get to the worst-affected areas – including where I lived as recently as ten days ago. First I went back to the RSL where the McGilvrays had moved home but the oldfellas from St Vinnies hospice were back. I brought a few copies of the paper for them to read and then set about finding more stuff to write about. I was able to drive over the Arthur St bridge in my two-wheel drive with care. The water was still over the road but low enough to get through.

I parked up the road and trudged barefoot through the waters I couldn’t get through yesterday. This area was copping it for the second time in a month. The waters were still waist-high having dropped a metre or two overnight. My RSL friend Jill said I could check out her house so I went inside to take photos. The water had mostly dried out inside the home but had left a smelly mess. I walked around the corner to Charles St and found the house where I used to live.
There was no one there but the water was still all around the back yard and there was a sandbag at the door. Across the road a man named Paul lived in a high-set house on stilts. Paul was there on the balcony and I shouted up to him.

“I assume you were dry enough up there?” I said.
“Yes, the water got as far as the fifth step,” pointing about half way down the stilts.
I asked him about the house across the road where I used to live.
“Yeah the water came right up. Think it got into the house,” he said.
I shuddered with my luck in so recently leaving – my new place was in an unaffected part of town.
I then tried to walk on but the waters were rushing towards the creek here so it was too dangerous and too deep to continue. I went back the way I came and bumped into Johnny Mac.
Johnny is a Roma institution and has DJed here for 30 years. Johnny lives on a shed at the back of his brother’s house and the waters got into his place. Worse still they got into the bigger shed where he keeps all his audio gear and destroyed $16,000 worth of amps and other equipment.
“Luckily most of the old records were up high and survived,” Johnny said.
“It’s a musical history of Roma.”
Johnny said he spent the night at his parents who live at the back of the property on a slight hill. But the creek running behind them it was touch-and-go whether they would be spared. He also showed me the swimming pool which was a mess of brown water and collapse shade.
Johnny’s brother Phil Macfarlane then came downstairs and showed me underneath the house. They were getting ready for a garage sale and had all their gear ready for it. But a drum had gotten loose in the water and smashed into all the other contents sending everything flying.
Phil showed me the mark they had drawn for the height of the 1997 flood and this one was at least a metre higher. He and his family were safe enough upstairs in their stilted house but the power was off all night and they like everyone else hoped it would get no higher.
Johnny meanwhile looked disconsolate at all his damage.
“This is it for me,” he said.
“I’ve lived through six or seven floods in my time in Roma and I’ve had enough. It's time to move.”
It was time for me to move on too. Much of the morning had gone and I needed to get back and start writing up my stories for Friday’s paper. I slowly waded my way back to the dry area. On the drive back the water was receding further on the bridge. In the office I heard Anna Bligh wasn’t coming today. Her pilot had deemed the airport too unsafe to land though it had re-opened this morning. I went along to second recovery coordination meeting of the day at 2pm. This time the council chamber was packed solid. As well as all the emergency services, there were reps from Telstra, Ergon, the insurers, health services and both the state and federal member of parliament.
(Image courtesy: Maranoa Regional Council)
The Council CEO officially declared it Roma’s worst flood since records began in 1917 though there was anecdotal evidence of a bigger one in the 1890s.
The sheer size of the meeting meant it was unwieldy and took longer than it should. It was suggested they go back to the core group for tomorrow’s meeting, a fact that didn’t bother me as I was on deadline tomorrow anyway.
I went back to spend a long afternoon collating information and writing up the stories for what we hoped would be a memorable edition of the paper.
At the end of the day, I called in on the RSL again. They had a couple of the St Vinnies oldies staying the night and another couple that had to be helicoptered to safety from their property near Morven about 190km further west. Roy and Jill would stay the night with them again.

Roma's record flood - March 2010

The warning signs were there from Monday. A bloody great big monsoonal low was descending from the Northern Territory and was predicted to dump a great wad of rain on south and central Queensland. It started raining in Roma around 8pm and began to come down hard. The rain stayed hard and loud all night making sleep difficult and fitful. I had to be up to report on a 6.45am sports breakfast meeting at the council buildings about five minutes drive from where I lived. I thought it would have been cancelled at the last minute but I had to check it out. It didn’t take long for me to realise the waters had risen substantially overnight.

I carefully threaded my way through the river-like roads and found Roma’s CBD awash with water. Not from the creeks but simply because the drainage system couldn’t cope. 133 mils had fallen overnight and it was still coming down. I got out of the car to take a few photos of slow-moving traffic struggling through the waves. The water was up to the step of our office and still rising. In about two minutes of taking photos I was soaked to the skin. I retreated back to the car and went onto the council building.

To my surprise, the sports breakfast went ahead. Many people were stuck on their properties and others were running late but an amazingly large amount of sports administrators turned up to hear how council was going to change its management of local sport. I sat there saturated and took notes all the while realising the real story was elsewhere. By the time the meeting finished, it had stopped raining. The waters had retreated from the office step leaving a muddy mess on the pavement. The word was the Bungil Creek was still rising and we were heading for a big flood. Having recalled what the floods were like last month, I rushed home to get a pair of shorts and thongs (footwear) and was ready for combat duties.

It was soon obvious this flood was going to be much larger than the last one. In February there was one bridge to the northern part of town that didn’t flood over, but it was now inundated by the time I got there. I saw a boat about to ferry a lady with her groceries across and hitched a lift with them into the flood zone. I thought initially the two boaties were SES officers but no, they were just two Santos workers who were heading to find their friend who was stranded in a ditch somewhere. The other passenger told me her name was Inge Strybos and she lived further up the street. Neither her name nor her accent was local and it turns out she was Belgian but had a Roma boyfriend. But Inge had never seen rain or floods like this in Brussels.

The boys dropped Inge and myself off in shallow waters on the other side of the creek and set off to find their mate. I started walking further north asking whoever would talk to me about how the flood was treating them. None of the houses I saw were inundated though the gardens were looking soggy. I was taking a photo of a woman walking her three dogs to safety when she shouted out “hello Derek”. At closer inspection, it was local MP Howard Hobbs’ media person Ann Leahy and she was taking her dogs to the safety of her office on the other side of town before returning to her flooded home. I left Ann to find her way to town and walked further down her street.

The waters were waist high and cursing the fact I had no t-shirt pocket I had to carry my mobile phone in my hand. Towards the end of the street the waters were getting almost chest high and the current was getting stronger. Here several low-lying houses were inundated and their occupants long gone. Concerned about losing my mobile and camera in deeper water, I retreated back the way I came.
Back on the corner, Ann was still there and finding it difficult to get a lift back to town with the dogs. Then came Darren Christiansen to the rescue.

Darren had a big truck and was taking sandbags around to houses in need. He got Ann and the dogs to hop on. Then he spotted me.
“Are you from the press?” he said.
“I’m from the Western Star,” I replied.
“Do you want to hop in? I’m delivering the last few sandbags before heading back into town,” he said.
I didn’t need a second invitation. I hopped in the front cab which was already crowded. Darren introduced me to Kate who was pregnant as well as her toddler Zoe and their small dog. Darren was taking his human and canine crew to higher ground.
Darren was a bit of a character. He told me he was a young and single grazier.
“I don’t know if you saw me – I was on A Farmer Needs A Wife but I was eliminated in the first round”.
I hadn’t seen the program. Darren said he’d never seen floods like this (neither had I) even though he was well used to rain on his property about 70km west of Roma.
“It’s been raining solid there for four weeks,” he said.
“The only way around is by quad bike or horse.
“I was in town today and thought people could use a hand.
“The truck has got a high input so it’s safe enough to get round in.”

We continued to tour around the flood areas from the safety of his high cab and I helped Darren deliver the last few sandbags at his mother’s house. Finally he started to head back to town and dropped Ann, Kate, Zoe and the dogs off. He told me he was going to the council depot to get more sandbags and I said I would go along.

The depot was full of exhausted council workers many of whom had been on the job since 3am laying sandbags. They were enjoyed a smoko: a rest and a feed. They were also swapping war stories of the morning’s events. Everyone agreed it was the biggest flood that had ever hit Roma.

Darren borrowed a forklift and loaded his truck up with more sandbags. He picked up his mate Mark who had yet to see the flood and the three of us drove back past the flooded bridge. The Bungil peaked at 8.1m around lunchtime but waters were still rising around town. Most houses in the flood zone were beyond sandbagging but we kept driving around the streets seeing if anyone needed help.

One man named Aaron Murphy showed us inside his saturated house. “I was out in the garage madly trying to lift everything off the ground.”
“While I was out there, the waters came in through the door.
“It happened so quick there was no time to react.”
The waters contaminated every room, destroying the carpets, sofas and fridge and everything near ground level. With nothing left to do, Aaron joined us on the truck as we continued our tour of the saturated suburbs.

Occasionally someone would call out for sandbags for their property on higher ground but most had already left leaving their home's fate to Mother Nature. The rain stayed away all day so the waters stopped rising further - though there was menacing talk of waters up north that was yet to come down this way. With all the rivers in southern Queensland flooded there was nowhere for that water to go except up.

After touring around for a couple of hours it was time to head back to town. Darren picked up a few more stragglers and we all milled around the back of the truck in totally illegal fashion. Police turned a blind eye on the creek crossing but further down the road they took a dim view of Darren's unsecured load and we all had to hastily get off. It was a short walk from there to the office where I caught up with all the news from elsewhere. I heard the RSL hall was transformed to an emergency response centre and trudged up to take a look.

I had gotten friendly with the RSL crew and knew most of them there. They were great people who tirelessly devoted themselves to the community. One couple, Roy and Jillie, had their own home flooded out but still spent all day helping others, feeding the evacuees and plying them with tea and coffee. The RSL processed over 30 evacuees during the day while they tried to find beds for the night for them. Many people from the community volunteered to house the evacuees. All that was left when I arrived were three fellas from an old folk’s home near the creek that was flooded out. I talked to Henry Steers, who was 77 and rescued with his 16-year-old dog Boss.
Henry said he and his mates were glad to be rescued by the SES though some of the others had to be cajoled by police into leaving their homes.
“I live next to the Creek and the waters just came swimming through my door,” Henry said.
His friend Bobby McKenzie was envious at the way Henry was rescued.
“He got piggybacked out while we had to walk!” he said.
But Henry had a good excuse.
“I’ve only got one leg, see,” he said, tapping at his wooden leg.
“When the boat took us to the other side, this lovely lady picked us up and dropped us off at the church where someone gave us dry clothes,” he said.
“Then we were taken over here where they looked after us too.
“It’s beautiful here, I got a hot meal of potato and sausages."
Then Henry looked wistfully at Boss as he remembered what he had left behind.
“I bought a big Y-bone and a fillet today for us, that’s all gone,” he said.
“And I don’t know how much clothes I’ve lost.”
Henry has lived in Roma all his life but never saw anything like he saw today.
“I’ve never seen it this high,” he said.
“It frightens you really.”
The RSL found beds for the night for most of the old men thanks to the generous offers from the community. It was proving harder to place Henry because of Boss but his daughter who was stuck in the floods finally arrived to take them both away to a warm bed.

Just as it seemed the RSL’s work was done for the night, another couple arrived around 8.30pm dripping wet from head to toe. Tanya and Andrew McGilvray live on a hill behind the saleyards and thought they were safe up high. But as the waters steadily rose all day, their worries increased. The neighbours below started to move out, the waters were lapping below the floorboards and baby snakes started appearing around the house. As darkness approached, the McGilvrays became convinced it was time to leave.
“What probably convinced me to go was when I looked out the window and saw a 44 gallon drum float past” said Andrew.
But first he had to walk his two horses to higher ground.
“The water came up to here,” Andrew said, pointing to his nose.
Andrew made it through safely with the horses but back at the house there was another problem.
“We rang the SES but they said we would have to swim out to the road to get to the boat,” he said.
“My wife is pregnant so we didn’t fancy that idea.
“Just when it looked as if we would have to do it, the neighbour rolls by in a tractor and got us down to the boat.”
The SES crew winched the two last families to safety with the bridge over the highway completely submerged in the gathering gloom.
They stayed overnight at the RSL and Roy and Jillie decided to stay with them. Just before I left to go home around 9pm, the Mayor arrived and invited me to the 6am disaster response meeting the following morning. I said yes and drove home exhausted. It was raining heavily again. Nevertheless I slept the sleep of the dead, knowing that another big day lay ahead with the possible promise of more floods to come.

The Polyphonic Spree perform in Brisbane

My second visit to the Powerhouse on Friday was to see the American band the Polyphonic Spree. The Spree is a Texan outfit with anything from 17 to 27 members on stage at any one time. Possibly due to the difficulties of playing in Australia (though this was their second visit in two years) they were down to the “bare bones” 17 that took the stage in New Farm. This included two percussionists, two guitarists, a bassist, three piece brass section, four piece Polyphonic Choir, a flautist, a keyboard player, two piece strings and front man and lead singer Tim DeLaughter. DeLaughter and fellow Polyphonics Pirro and Bryan Wakeland were in the band Tripping Daisy which disbanded in 1999 after the drug overdose death of guitarist Wes Berggren.


I always wondered how DeLaughter and co managed to make money out of touring given the number of band members and they went further in this tour handing out hundreds of free hats, Indian chief headgear, necklaces, masks and bracelets. It made for a colourful audience who expectantly waited for the Spree to emerge from behind the screen.

The foliage was dense.

Finally the band did emerge and put on a terrific show with their own music interspersed by such eclectic offerings as Paul McCartney's Live and Let Die,Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline and Nirvana's Lithium.

Went upstairs to get a better view. This was a restricted ticket area only but I mumbled something about being a journalist and was allowed to take a few photos before being booted out.

foliage heaven.

Cowboys entertaining Indians.

A clue to how the band pays for its expenses. Apparently DeLaughter also makes big money from UK supermarket chain Sainsbury's use of "Light and Day / Reach For the Sun" for its advertising.

Tim takes centre stage.

Tim takes side stage.

Stuck in the middle again with you.

Mad balloon time.

End of Act 1. Just Tim left on stage with half the Polyphonic Choir.

More balloons yet to fall.

The Interval shows the foliage in all its glory.

Back for Part 2 in traditional kafkan garb.

Now its paper time and the venue briefly resembles an Argentinian football game.

I loved the Polyphonic parapharnalia over the stage.

More paper lace.

Finally the white balloons are released.

As Tim takes the final encore.

Time for a victory salute.

Before bowing to the audience.

And lining up to say farewell. An enjoyable (and eventful) gig is over.