Chapter 20
Could this be the beginning?
New Years Eve is here and so too our Wedding Anniversary. We spent it at Caloundra at our cousin Steve’s unit, overlooking the very tip of beautiful Bribie Island. The view was magnificent as we caught glimpses of the fireworks that were erupting a little way up the road at Kings Beach. It Brought back wonderful memories of our own wedding 4 years ago up on top of Mount Coot-tha which came with magnificent views of Brisbane and surrounds as the entire city erupted with the all important fireworks. This year though, New Years Eve and the days that followed were not without pain. I seem to have picked up some kind of urinary infection or something not useful. As luck would have it my normal GP was on holidays. I find it very hard to get though to some of the stand in GP’s just how I’m feeling. They don’t know me at all, they don’t know that I will always play down the symptoms. I was handed a jar and told to fill it then come back in when I’d finished. The Doctor handed me a script for some antibiotics and I was told “these should fix it”… Well, they didn’t! Walking had become so painful for me and I reluctantly went back a week later still in pain. Nothing showed up on the tests so they wanted more tests done, as you all know I have had enough of being poked, prodded and tested so this was not an option. Then it was suggested that I use a barrier cream…WTF? How the hell was barrier cream going to fix anything? By this stage I was desperate and willing to try anything. Luckily I had a little sample pot that I was given by a rep when I was working for a baby goods company. Who would have thought, after two weeks of excruciating pain a few days of applying this miracle white goo, I was cured! I was in shock at just how simple and effective a non medical treatment can be, and how the medical system can be led astray by a few simple words. Because I, an untrained lay-person had told the doctor that I thought I had a UTI, that was what he treated! Seriously folks…… How would I know, I’ve never had one before, I googled it!
Here comes the rain again.
The rain has still not stopped… Actually that’s a lie, we have had 2 fine days since mid December. We are all very much over it. We were all beginning to wonder, when is it going to stop? Then disaster struck. Toowoomba was hit with disastrous flash flooding. There was no warning… As the drama was unfolding and the shocking images emerged, Brisbane city was told to get ready for some serious water that was about to serge down the Brisbane River… Problem… we live on the Brisbane River! A few sleepless days and nights have passed and the water is still rising. The authorities have issued evacuation advise to all boat owners on the river to move their boats to the safety of Moreton bay. I have to say I didn’t take this seriously at first. I though the media was just trying to talk up the severity of the situation. After all, we are on a boat, it floats…right??? Greg has managed to get some work with channel 7… Very timely I have to say coz it’s only just over a week before we go on our cruise! Greg left early on Tuesday to go up to the mountain to collect some gear to take to the Kangaroo Point cliffs where he would be assisting the Channel 7 news crews. I was so excited, no wait, I was in awe, my hubby was doing stuff so Kay McGrath could present the extended coverage of the 2011 Queensland floods. I have Kay’s bra….remember!!
Should I stay or should I go?
They are now saying the water level could reach as much as 5.4 metres. By this time I was confused as to what I was meant to be measuring this mark from. The water had already reached the boardwalk at Dockside and was still rising. By 1am there was only about 1.5 metres left between the dock and the top of the pylons at the marina. These pylons are all that holds the marina together. If the water rises above these, the fingers that we are tethered to will float off taking us with them. This would not be pretty... Greg is still not home and I’m alone watching the endless procession of unmanned boats, pontoons, some with luxury pleasure craft still on top or attached, caravans, yachts, trees and loads of unidentified objects careering out of control in the 15 or so knot torrent. At this point I have to say I am starting to feel a little anxious but Greg had made sure the boat was well secured with extra lines and by attaching these to additional cleats on the marina deck so the old girl isn’t going anywhere. The water is still rising and is now about a metre over the boardwalk… Still no sign of Greg… At about 2am Tony, one of our neighbours at the marina, and I were the only ones left on our finger. We were both on the back of our boats just looking in disbelief. Both of us are making marks on the pylons, (he with a spray can of “New Caterpillar Yellow” as only a man would do and me with my trusty red nail polish in true feminine style), so we could see just how fast the water is rising. Then I could see a familiar darkened figure wading through the water along what used to be the boardwalk and up along the gangway to the pontoon. Normally this would be a walk down rather than up! I was so relieved to see Greg. As high tide was not going to be until later in the morning we knew had some time up our sleeve. We knew we had to get out on the next rise before the expected flood peak, it was just a matter of when. It’s only now when writing this that I realise the amount of danger we were in. 6am came and with that, Tony in his twin engine cruiser was off. It was a bit daunting to see this powerful boat with 2 big V8 Diesel engines struggle to get into the current when poor old Kidnapped had only a single 4 cylinder engine and a small propeller… We had no sleep that night… Too many things were going though out heads… Greg took control and started to prepare the engine for immediate departure. The debris was still surging downstream, the strategy was layed out as the window of opportunity was closing. There was still half a metre of pylon left. Then Greg’s face said it all... Thankfully, we had a diver scrape Kidnapped’s hull, freeing up the barnacle laiden prop. Apparently the water pump had sucked up some debris and blocked the cooling system. This was not good. Greg never loses his cool but this time I could see some anxiety in his face. After a lot of grunting and some improvisation He managed to unblock the pump but there was no guarantee this would not happen again so the decision was made to remove all our irreplaceable goods from Kidnapped. As the hard drives full of photos and videos, computers, electronics and important documents were loaded into bags and taken to higher ground the enormity of all this sunk in. A wave of terror started to engulf me but I needed to stay strong. Kahli and Brittany where on their way to collect our meager possessions and I couldn’t let them see me in a state of panic. What the hell was I doing??? Pull yaself together, concentrate and centre girl! But I still couldn’t walk away from our home and leave her to the mercy of a flood tide, we had to give it a shot! As we hugged and kissed the girls goodbye my mind was darting around, more than usual. Was this the last voyage Kidnapped was ever going to make? Was her fate to be in a watery grave on the bottom of the River? Brushing it off, I told the girls we would be all right, it’s all under control. Who was I kidding? It wasn’t all right and it certainly didn’t feel under control at this point.
The River Wild.
Greg had a cunning plan... Kidnapped had always prop walked to port when going astern (that is to say she had a natural turn towards the dock in reverse!). To counteract that we would allow the stern to wash to the other side of her pen, thus giving us some leverage to swing around before the current and eddies got hold of her. As true as the foo foo bird flies this didn’t happen. The stern was forced to Starboard meaning the current was now working against us rather than in our favour, taking us closer towards the ferry terminal and meaning we had to navigate around it in reverse rather than forward. All I could do was just stand on the bow watching with my hands on my head and my heart in my mouth. I could hear the gasps from the onlookers as Greg fought for enough control to narrowly miss the terminal. As we passed the last of the structure I threw my arms up and let out a loud “YES”. I don’t know who was louder, me or the spectators. It looked like we now had some sort of control back. Well at least we where pointing in the right direction. Steering was made very difficult with dodging large objects, sunken boats, eddies and not to mention a 15 knot current. Kidnapped sails usually at a leisurely 5knots and we can’t steer unless we go faster than the water is going. This meant that on this occaaion we were doing at least 3 times our normal speed. We finally washed far enough down the river to be out of danger. Well so we thought!!! We dropped anchor near the mouth of the river where MSQ and the water police headquarters are to regroup and catch our breath. Greg thought the water was still running way too fast to be anchored safely, even though we were out of the line of fire with debris. Greg had phoned Tony to see just how far he had gone, he was heading all the way to Manly where he managed to get a berth at the Morton Bay Trailer Boat Club. Greg was thinking this was a good option for us as well. He wasn’t about to leave me on board alone while he went to work, and I didn’t want to be left either, I didn’t feel safe. He needed to go coz we needed to start topping up the coffers. By this time I didn’t know if I wanted to vomit or cry, so many emotions were running out of control in my head. You’d think I’d be used to emotional roller coasters! Greg rang the marina and secured us a berth. Clearly we still weren’t thinking straight… We still didn’t prepare the sails or secure the hatches… Not even Greg thought of it. We decided it was time to go, if we went now we would make Manly before dark. Just then we saw a familiar yacht hurtling down the river… It was Brian, another of our neighbours. I was so happy to see he made it out of the marina unscathed.
Washing machine.
We started to pull up the anchor when everything stopped… The engine batteries had died while trying to get the anchor up. The anchor wouldn’t lift from the sticky mud and the alternator couldn’t put enough charge into the batteries to keep up with the demand. I have to say It’s lucky Greg keeps his head coz I certainly don’t. He called up MSQ on the radio to see if they could either bring some batteries or give us a jump. As they pulled up along side and handed some jump leads I saw that they had two 250hp engines. This little inflatable boat would not only hold our 16+ ton girl while we got the anchor in, but it also provided enough electrical power to work the winch. Yay!! We were off! We cast off the lines from the rescue boat and spun around again to head for the bay. When the river decided to spit us out at the mouth, it was like being in a washing machine. When you have a wall of water streaming down, the flood waters, meeting another wall of water, the incoming tide, it creates a bigger wall of water straight up. The swell was at least 3metres and very choppy. We see-sawed our way though these crushing waves. We were however going nowhere fast. Greg said “I really need to get some sail up to get out of this slop”. We were literally going backwards with little control. Sail boats really are designed to sail, and even half a main sail would give us some drive and smooth the ride a little. My eyes were glued to Greg as climbed all over the deck trying to get the sails set. I didn’t want to have to try and retrieve a “man ova board” in these conditions. As the water was breaking over the bow, thick muddy water was flowing in through the front hatches all over our brand new mattress that was just picked up Christmas Eve and all through the saloon. I had neglected to screw them down tight enough after I had freed them up from both the air conditioner and bbq. The forward cabin and saloon was a muddy mess. I thought washing machines where meant to clean things… It was a long sail but finally making headway we were able to get free of the sloppy conditions and set sail for Manly… We had taken all our navigational equipment off the boat before we started so a bit of dead reckoning was called for. Visability wasn’t too flash either with all the scuds of rain passing. After about eight hours and severe sunburn on both of us, we made it to Manly. We rolled in like refugees and tied up at a convenient pontoon to find our berth. Actually, we kinda looked like refugees as well. In fact since being here we have been referred to as refugees, but at least we’re in good company. After we secured Kidnapped to her new pen, we ventured down to survey the carnage. All the way across the bay we could hear loud bangs and crashes that sounded like breaking glass. What a mess!! A muddy sludge was everywhere from floor to ceiling. Books, containers, sail covers, ropes strewn everywhere. The whole scene reminded me of a teenagers bedroom, we couldn’t see the floor. I looked up to where the Reidel glasses are racked, expecting to find stems only. To my surprise they were all there, intact, not so much as a mud splash on them. They had survived, my pride and joy made it through despite the constant pounding. So too our BBQ and the air conditioner! They were thrown around the deck but still onboard and still working. We fully expected to be replacing both of these as they didn’t get tied down before we set off.
It’s funny how the mind works. I couldn’t help thinking when all the drama was unfolding, if this were to be it… you know… it… what a waste it would have been… a waste of drug treatment, a waste of $70,000 of Herceptin which I might add was cancelled this time due to the hospital being flooded. This is one moment I will never forget… ever. We slept like babies this night even though our bed was wet. It was so quiet, no roar of the water, no turbulence, no rocking and rolling, no stress or worry… Just quiet bliss.