The Apocalypse

We have ferns in our courtyard here at our house in Bundoora, which is about 16km north/north east of Melbourne CBD. Normally, they are all nice and green, and would appear like this:

Although it should be noted the above photo is not our courtyard, but Mt Worth State Park. The image would fit nicely as Tarra Bulga National Park too, given its beautiful fern valleys and bushlands. Anyway, the ferns should look like the above. Nice and green. Year round.

Except lately. We had a string of 43oC+ days (110oF+), and the impact of this weather was huge. Our lovely green tree ferns, along with everything in the garden but the bloody cactus, simply baked and died in the conditons. Our biggest fern now looks like this:

Its hard to believe it took only three days to completely kill this lovely feature.

But this is the sort of weather we have been having. And not a lot of rain to counter it. Not a drop.

Conditions, you could say, perfect for a catastrophe of epic proportions.

We had these conditions last Saturday, now commonly known as Black Saturday. I like to refer to it as the Apocalypse, because man, it was bloody awful. We knew it too: our Premier on the day before made an announcement using strong words that all Victorians should brace for the weather Saturday: stay cool, stay indoors, don't travel, and check on your neighbours. And be wary of fires, for if they should appear, it would be with disastrous consequences.

"It's just going to be, probably by a long way, the worst day ever in the history of the state in terms of temperatures and winds," he said.
"It's just as bad a day as you can imagine and on top of that the state is just tinder dry so people need to exercise real common sense tomorrow. If you don't need to go out don't go out. It's a seriously bad day."

Knowing this, Ewin and I got up early Saturday and rode towards Kinglake. Even in the early hours the hot northerly wind, that roars down from mainland Australia with a kind of heat in it that would fry anything, was already up and at it. As we rode north I struggled in the conditions, feeling nauseous and not overly confident of my recovery from previous health struggles. We altered the ride plan, and ended up stopping for a coffee in Whittlesea. Whittlesea was hosting their Country Music Festival, and the town had the main street closed and street stalls were being set up. The northerly wind was creating havoc with their setups. We were amazed that despite the warning from the Premier, the SES (State Emergency Service) had also set up a display. I had assumed that with such predictions, the SES would have been all dressed and waiting by the phone for news of grim. Not so, it was if the show must go on.

This attitude would change over the next few hours.

Ewin and I returned to our house (awesome tailwind!!) just as the temp hit 37oC (100oF), around 9am. We decided to do a few jobs before the bad weather maxed out, and while it was still possible to move around in the heat. We'd be back in the house under the air con before 2pm. Yes Premier, we are listening.

Shortly after lunch we were driving back along the Ring Road and came across this sight to our north:The first signs of the Kilmore East fire, some 40km away. The northerly wind was pushing it directly towards us. From this sight and for the next 24 hours, I barely left the abc radio for updates on the situation.
Ewin and I made a fire plan, based on my paranoia of The Apocalypse hitting us and all of northern Melbourne, but also for the strong possibility of embers hitting our large gum tree that overlooks our property, should the fires draw closer.
The big gum tree that overlooks our property.

View from the back yard looking west.

Meanwhile, news of another out of control fire in Narre Warren emerged. This is where my brother Luke and his family live. They are about 45minutes from where we are in Bundoora, pending no road closures. More and more roads were being closed because of the increasing number of fires. I called them, and they were sheltering from the heat and unaware of the situation nearby. They had no idea the smoke was just over their hill. These are the photos my brother took of their situation:

Luke did some further research on his mountain bike:

Given the proximity to such a large residential area, the fire was treated with some spectacular assistance from 'Elvis', the fire bombing helicopter:

Still, the Kilmore East and Narre fires weren't the only fires threatening my family. The biggest danger was the Bunyip Ridge fire in West Gippsland, which had broken its containment lines and was headed for the towns of Longwarry (home of the Longwarry market and the operations of The Nut Bloke), as well as Drouin and Warragul.
Yarragon was situated to the south east of the Bunyip Ridge fire and essentially, downwind. My parents have lived on the farm in Yarragon for, well, a long time. Over thirty years (34?). They have never had a serious issue with bush fire danger. The land is largely cleared and bushfires are usually contained in the bush. But not this one. And not today.

Despite being around a 40min drive to Bunyip State Park, this was the image overlooking Yarragon:

view from the farm:

and the only exit route, which would be to the west and into any approaching fire:

The conditions got worse, and the fire threat increased. We were unable to do anything but listen to the radio and monitor the situation. All major roads home were closed - we would have had to try to make a run for it via smaller city roads and then via the coast and Korumburra to get back to the farm. And on a day like The Apocalypse, that was pretty much a stupid idea.

The Churchill fire also was reignited (probably deliberately) and raged totally out of control in a southerly direction towards Tarra Bulga National Park (a stop on our honeymoon) and Yarram. The evidence could also be seen from the farm - looking south east:

Add to this mix a fire in the Erica-Rawson area (to the north/north east), and the farm was surrounded by out of control fires - albeit at some distance (apart from the Bunyip fire), but with scary results (despite it still being daylight):

With the farm tinder dry, the totally unthought of concept of a bush fire hitting the farm was fast becoming a reality. A fire plan had to be hatched, and evidence of embers travelling along the massive northerly winds were monitored. There was plenty to burn should they arrive:

I was packing myself. We listened to the radio, and stayed cool under the air con. It reached 46.4oC (115oF) in Melbourne - a new all time record for the highest temperature.

The northerly wind now had elements of a westerly. A 'cool change', brought about by cooler westerly winds from the coastal areas was being reported along the western coastal areas of Victoria. It wasn't due in northern Melbourne until 7pm.

Yet by 5pm the wind had swung around to a strong westerly.

This is where disaster struck for the communities of Kinglake, Kinglake West, Marysville, St Andrews and a whole bunch of north-eastern communities of Melbourne.

The Kilmore East fire had swung from its course of flying directly south into the path of Whittlesea and the outskirts of Melbourne, including Bundoora, into an easterly direction full of dense bush and remote access roads. The wind was cooler, but was just as strong. It drove the fire into this area and the region exploded. The abc radio could not keep up with the warnings or the coverage. Towns were decimated in such a short period of time. People died staying in their homes and trying to fight the fires, or were miraculously spared by staying in their homes and fighting the fires. People died fleeing in cars and on foot, and people were saved fleeing in cars and on foot. There was no sensible advice or action that could have been recommended.

The township of Whittlesea, at once in direct line of the fires but saved by the wind change, was now a place of refuge for survivors. It has now become the main communications base and opportunity for media to collect their 'personal' stories from the disaster.
As hard as it is to say, it could have been worse. If the wind change had not have come two hours earlier than predicted, the situation would have had a far greater impact on the northern Melbourne communities, areas in the south east of Melbourne, and townships such as Drouin, Warragul and the Latrobe Valley. Its hard to fathom.

The wind change reduced the dangers to us, my brother in Narre, and my parents on the farm in Yarragon.

However, the Bunyip Ridge fire was still going strong and warnings were still established for neighbouring towns. My other brother, Marcus (who had listened to the Premier and had remained at home all day in inner Melbourne) and I took turns setting our alarms to wake up and monitor the situation back on the farm. This enabled mum and dad to get some rest after a stressful day.

The response from Australia and the world has been massive and awesome. Donations are being collected through the Red Cross. I am interested in the rebuilding of towns and community facilities so that they are planned in a way that can accommodate persons in periods of extreme fire danger. The State Government is working on this, and I would say there will be opportunities in the coming year towards these projects.

But it isn't over yet. The State is still tinder dry, and conditions will worsen again before we can rest assured the danger is over for another year. Hopefully we won't get weather conditions like we had last Saturday, but we will still get fires with the potential to devastate again.