The Perfect Storm?

The Perfect Storm?

Dear hearts,

Was it the Perfect storm? I think perhaps it was. Because it missed hitting us head on. It was a little to the south, just enough to save us from the eye. The little sugar town of Tully (Pop approx 2500) took the force of that cyclonic stare and as a result every second home is no more. So as much as I breathe a sigh of relief for the Northern beaches of Cairns I say a little prayer and shed a little tear for the good folk of Tully.

It was my first cyclone and a Category 5 to boot. I would like to take you through the experience. The text messages from the State Disaster Coordination Centre started the morning of the whole affair. If that was not disconcerting enough, Anna Bligh was warning of our impending experience as “ a catastrophic weather event”

As the day progressed the hyperbole and warnings increased, but the weather remained calm. Which was confusing as our constant scanning of the BOM weather website showed an ever increasing angry swirl malevolently covering the coast of our fair state with its black and red heart. We were all getting a little bored to be honest and at 4pm began to wonder if the whole thing was going to be a no show. The text messages continued urging us to evacuate low lying areas and the urgent pleas of the Premier that the “window of opportunity to relocate was fast closing” made all feel uneasy and slightly put out that perhaps we were missing something.

Be careful what you wish for Dear hearts.

By nightfall the wind began to pick up and the intensity of the warnings were delivered at fever pitch. The Baby and I were lucky to be with seasoned Queenslanders. Salt of the earth die hards who were not too perturbed by the whole thing. It was decided we would all bunker down in the living room and just see what Yasi had to throw at us. We cooked dinner. We watched a movie. The wind increased and we continued to ignore it. The boys had their beers and the girls had their wine. Even the Spaniels lounged around.

Then the power went out.

You could hear the wind whipping those palm fronds into quite the frenzy. I took the super duper LED torch for a look outside and found those palms bent over trying to hide under a bush. The rain was chasing us from all angles and the noise was like nothing I had heard before. Intense is the only word I can think of.

We decided to stay in after that. We spent the night listening to ABC local. Weather updates on the hour and reminders on the half hour. In between the calls in from listeners all over the region describing their experiences. From Mossman to Cardwell and Atherton to Cairns City the story was similar but different. I lie on the sofa with my torch in one hand, my phone in the other. The Baby on the floor next to me. The puupies finding possies in between. The Boys snoring their beers.

I was alert and alarmed. But calm.

The camaraderie that came from the callers into ABC local made me feel like I was not alone. I was tense, tired and unsure of what was going to happen next. But so was everyone else. It was an extraordinary feeling of community Dear hearts. My hat is tipped to the ABC broadcasters. My heart is forever with those who endured and lost so much more than we.

The eye of the storm crossed at Mission Beach at 12am Wednesday February 2nd 2011. The Captain’s father lives on the hill overlooking South Mission Beach and out across to the beautiful Dunk Island. I haven’t heard if all is well and am praying that it is.

I was only afraid twice. When the wind moved up to an intensity I hadn’t felt or heard before and when there was no sound at all. But that is nothing compared to some.

Say your prayers Dear hearts, give some thought to those who have lost everything. This state is a cracker. All or nothing. We live in paradise, but there is a risk when one chooses to dance so close to perfection.

With love
Miss Mich