Tuesday 29 October 2013

Bushfire Across Five

"There just weren't enough rural fire crews on alert to deal with the disaster," Pa stared his son-in-law down across the cluttered remains of dinner. Steve rose in his seat over the table and Pa thought in his own contrary way, he's taken my bait.

"Bull. Those pine plantations ran right onto the capital's doorsteps. Where were the firebreaks and trails?" The argument fired on yet didn't move forward at all. Pa, once confident on his topic, was like a dog with a bone. Discontent flared as the family migrated elsewhere to avoid the raising voices.

In-laws, Pa thought.

*

Emily jumped as water growled against her back and ducked underneath the froth. The salty fluid slid along her limbs like ice-cream. Even through closed lids she could see the summer sun peeking through the corners. Surrounded by the precious ocean Emily felt she was in a watery sort of heaven where nothing would ever burn.

Surfacing she heard her name exclaimed and her little cousin, already lanky and tall, screamed towards her with a smile that made her face shine. The sky above was a dusky, half-curled petal but none of the family on the beach seemed to notice. Emily shook her head that Auntie Em hadn't come down too. They lived so close to her favourite place; the beach. It was what made visiting in the tiny pink and brick house actually enjoyable.

Mum, loitering further up on the sand with dad, hollered that it was time to come in. Sarah and Graham, as he came around behind her, both pouted in annoyance and their twin looks set Emily laughing. Emerging out of their spontaneous splash festivals the three of them, sister, brother and younger cousin, dripped up into waiting towels.

They all drifted up the hill to where the house sat with Sarah circling Emily and Graham whose longer legs were laden with teenage lethargy. The adults; mum, dad and Uncle Steve hiked watchful behind. Even as we hit the pebble-crete driveway we were in good spirits although the light seemed to have faded.

Suddenly a madwoman clattered out through the front door wildly waving her hands as she scampered towards us, her eyes wide jade flecks. Mum stepped up to meet her sister who thrust a fluttering printed page in her face.

"Bushfires raging through Duffy!" Auntie Em quoted the headline, flustering and pointing. Her kid blinked, trying to compute but Emily's heart sinks in her chest. She struggled to recall that there were still fires out there- really close to home. And her home surrounded by drought-hardy bush plants and central in its suburb was…

-What? Raging. Full of flames?

"They call the farmland around west of us Duffy too. That's what's gone up," mum said, shaky and certain. Auntie Em ceased her gesticulating took a breath. She looked right into the jade of mum's eyes.

"I don't know." Em said quietly as she handed over the article.

"What about Dolsie?" Emily cried out, turning everyone's attention to her. She fought to be grown up even as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "And Yup-Yup. They're still at home."

"We'll get 'em baby," Dad comforts gruffly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "We'll get 'em."

*

Zeta searched for Ed in the smoke haze, spitting the taste of burnt ash from her mouth. The wind whipped her grey curls while embers tornado-ed across the sick sky. She really wished she didn’t have to be here. Heat buffeted her limbs from every side.

Yup-Yup cowered by the back door and Zeta called out softly. The wind snatched the syllables even before they left her mouth but the puppy looked up at her with watery eyes reflecting the orange sky. Zeta trembled and buried her hands in his soft fur. How has it come so close? she thought.

The heat pressed her skin against her daughter's screen door too. Water dripped over the edge of the gutter and captured uselessly by the wind, evaporated. She watched a snapped eucalypt limb cartwheel over the yard to catch against the desolate wood fence. Leaves also twisted like smoke to collect against the brush and brickwork.

Gulping in a hot breath Zeta plunged into the evening, trying to scoop the bedraggled pup into her arms. Around by the side gate she found her husband thrusting the hose amongst the guttering.

"I think we should go." Zeta screamed to Ed, clutching frantically to the dog. They both turned as a great rushing noise drowned the sirens that had previously drifted on the wind.

Twin eyes grew wide to watch a red glow hurtle through the smoke; a dripping molten disaster. It caught the fence of the house next door and released arms and tendrils to lick hungrily along the leaf litter. Too fast for thought the fireball ignited a backyard inferno.

The couple didn't need to confer again. The water was shut off to drip slowly along the pavers and Zeta rushed to close the front door again. At the door of the Mitsubishi yup-yup put up a fight even though under the normal circumstances it would have been a privilege for him to allowed in the nice vehicle. He leapt for the supposed comfort of the driveway and Zeta cursed and tried to grab hold. The young pup dashed away to hide under the banksias.

"Come on," Ed shouted and she gave in , slumping against the passenger seat.  She slammed the door knowing that there was nothing else they could help. Thinking of Emily's face when she would inevitably have to be told of the failed rescue of her yup-yup caused hot guilt to well inside of Zeta but she simply laid her head against the window and gazed frowning at the broiling red and black sky. Like the day of judgement, she thought.

*

The reporter pulled her mask on again a moment before the lights warmed her skin.

"Today the nation's capital is ablaze in an unprecedented firestorm.
"A number of grass fires that started over two weeks ago to the south and west have escalated into a major bushfire disaster. The way in which the 35 kilometre fire front combined with 100km/h wind gusts has spotted blazes in the yards and homes of Canberra residents this afternoon. Weston creek was covered in smoke from as early as 3pm while in the suburbs of Duffy, Holder, Kambah and Chapman some hundreds of houses have been incinerated. Fire crews are monitoring the situation as conditions change throughout the night.

"Now Felicity Barnes is reporting from Canberra's bush fire co-ordination centre."

The lights faded once more on her personage and she released a sigh of relief.

*

I gaped as Dad drove us along the familiar route to Emily's. The streets were more blackened and desiccated than I'd ever seen it, even in summer. Along Gemalong street theirs was the only building not in ashes. It was random the way houses popped up, almost untouched, yet surrounded by nature's demolition.

It had been three months since Emily and the whole family had fled up the Clyde after learning of the fire threat. Today we'd travelled that same 3 hours and dropped our luggage at Nana and Pa's big Chifley house before going to visit.

"What about your puppy and bunny?" I asked remembering vividly Emily's distress for them. I couldn't quite grasp what it meant that you'd lose them.

"Umm... Dolsie was still here, but Yup-Yup got away. We found him but he got ran over. We'll get a new puppy when the fences are fixed up again," Emily explained maturely, while mum and Auntie Lez stared out the kitchen at the lumpy remains of Duffy's lots. I could barely imagine that your home could be reduced to dark rubble in hours. I was aware that Emily's house was lucky.

"It's so strange to see the hills blank and dead." whispered mum. I remembered a street where the towering pines trees stood at attention against the curb while to the left homes full of suburban bric-a-brac watched them lazily.

I don't know what that street looks like now but I know that since then Canberra is no longer closeted with those trees. In fact the hills and valleys have been to grassland. From the distance in drought times they are a foreign wasted hill-scape. The national arboretum opened this year, with the 100th birthday of the city. Little are the trees now but after another decade maybe they'll be taller than me again. Even though I'm already taller than Emily now.



Friday 18 October 2013

Sailing on the wind @Urunga

Sailing, with the wind full and fast is probably the closest feeling to flying I've ever had. Each sport out there gives you a distinct sensation when you're doing it just right. Canoeing its peaceful; a gliding sensation that you feel as you balance and in the muscles as they bunch for another stroke, keeping rhythm and time.

Yet sailing is different. Leaning out over the water, under your torso there is air and spray and wind in your hair. You're sailing not just through the water but over it, flying so near to able to reach out to the ripples below you. It's a rush of speed and freedom because you know what it is that makes you move like that because its in your ears, loud and cool. There are no fumes or petrol. No chug-chugging or spluttering behind you. Its just wind and water. And you're part of it.



Two weeks ago I signed up for a sailing course with the Urunga Sail Training Club and today we had our first lesson. I was intensely excited as you might imagine from my description of sailing above but walking inside surprisingly I wasn't anxious like I might have expected. It was the third time I'd been to the clubhouse and there is something about it that sets me at ease.

When I'd stepped into the clubhouse two weeks ago I felt an instant connection. Maybe it was the ancient plaster board, thick with layered paint and patched together into geometrics. Or perhaps it was the brick fireplace and the proportions of floor, rafters, windows and doors. It was only when we got "the tour" that my eyes had picked up on the flag, green for scouts and above it the familiar portraits of Baden Powell, Our Queen Elizabeth and another more damaged.

It became more obvious even without the explanation, "Yeah this used to be the Urunga Sea Scout Hall." The structure and its paraphernalia had a commonness with all scout halls, probably across the country. Certainly it reminded me of a down-sized copy of my own group's hall up at Coffs. Surveying the tiny kitchen behind the window, the random old furniture and the murals across the walls it was like meeting the siblings of an old friend.

So here was this new hobby I had come to explore and though I wasn't sure about all the booms, vangs and curled up white material I felt an intimate knowledge of the place already.

Outside too was a tangled memory of camping, canoeing, swimming and late night games of spotlight. The Russell buildings I found today felt so much smaller like a doll's house of the originals, a brick boat house facing down the ramp to the river and the square hall above the skewed concrete dock. As scouts, when we were still allowed to stay in them, I remember camping clustered on the grassy patches between them. The Russell buildings had been like a second Station Creek; a place for water activities and exploring the river during the day and the vista of the golf course for nocturnal wide games.

As we gazed out over the river to view our sailing conditions today I glimpsed to my left around the boat shed the fig swinging low over the high tide where I'd climbed like a wily monkey. To my left in front of the veranda I could almost still see a Venturer chilling in his hammock while exuberant scouts chased rabbits.

Now in my head I know the river pretty well too, having swum my way across its heaving currents between the island and the shore several times on scout camps. But I have a feeling that it will be another thing when I am trying to steer a sailboat along it. I've learnt some of that sailing lingo today as we tightened the d-shackles to the boats up to set them up on land today. Then we capsized them to learn how to un-capsize and I tried to wrap my head around the way to adjust the mainsail, jib and steering in order to properly harness this invisible force we were dealing with.

The others may still be anxious about the sailing part, and though I don't really get all those details I'm not. I'm keen and can't wait to get out on the water next week!