Flood Stories and Poems

Rocky is a big country town

Mild winters and sultry summers. Stable community awareness. The country comes to the city. When droughts are prominent the rural sector doesn't shop. When things are tough, no work.

Greg Dyer (Alton Downs)

Needs and wants.

I need to spread my horizons. I want to update some of my skills. I need to look after my living expenses to the way I want. I would like to teach my skills. I want to do more charity work.

 Greg Dyer (Alton Downs)

Floods

Devastation of aftermath.

Businesses affected by floodwater

Stench of rotten vegetation, as well as homes, gardens, gyprock, septic smells.

Kindness and help.

Sultry, humid, mosquitoes.

Flood prone areas all around people.

Unable to alter main areas of water.

Fitzroy River has the largest catchment area in southern hemisphere with the largest amount of rivers leading into it, for example, the Dawson, McKenzie, Isaac and Connors.

From Beef to the Reef

Greg Dyer (Alton Downs)

Sultry Summer

Waking with the sunlight streaming through my window

About to milk the house cows

Getting a switchy warm tail into my face

Sticking to the cow is a downtrodden place

With sticky buffalo flies hovering around the mess off the tail

As the calf needs to slurp down his milk

For a minute he is forced back to the head bail

Where he can't move until the cow has quickly given out enough

Greg Dyer (Alton Downs)

Horses/Humans/Mum/Dad/Siblings

Go mustering bullocks by horse

as they are lathered in sweat.

The bullocks had gone into thick scrub.

Moisture between the horse's neck

and the thick foam between their buttocks

Dripping in the excitement of the run.

Greg Dyer (Alton Downs)

The Rescue

Chicita...chicita...chicita

Chic..

Chic

Chiic.........

chiiic......

chicit....aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

Helicopter perches birdlike on the tarmac

Occupants dismount with crablike shuffle

Heads bowed

Grasping recycled cardboard trays

With steaming

Mugs of silky black coffee

Lips pursed to polystyrene

And

Coffee

Hits

The

Mark

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Like the 9.2m flood marker

On the bottom each of Quay Street

 Ann-Maree Dyer (Alton Downs)

 

TV on top of the COKE ‘fridge

‘The flooding crisis continues to hammer communities on the eastern coast....."

The fluorescent light flickers across the greasy linoleum floor of the Pallamallawa café. Khaki-dressed farmers mumble as they place their orders for fried eggs, hamburgers, and a double chocolate malt milkshake, transfixed by the glowing television screen.

A familiar distressed face, pops briefly onto the screen- and I stop, milk bottle in hand. I know him... he's an artist with a reservoir of documents, records, photographs stored under his house in Depot Hill- a patron, and a friend.

All too briefly his story, no, his sentence is finished.

‘Woollies, the fresh food people are giving you the chance to win this fabulous prize. Drop into your local store today!'

Dead blowflies litter the area under the TV screen.

A report from The Range

Firstly, let me introduce myself, I am (Mrs) Felicity Pilkington-Duckworth. I moved to Rockhampton in 1994, when my husband decided to relocate his medical practice to a regional area. Despite the lack of a good coffee and all those terrible bull statues, I must admit Rockhampton is now home to my family and I.

Like everyone in the community, I was devastated to hear about the havoc and heartache being caused by the floods. As rain pelted down on our old tin roof, I still remember looking outside and feeling my heart sinking.

Living on The Range and well away from the serious flooding problems below, I still had my own very serious problems to contend with. Those big old Queenslanders are not easy to maintain in wet weather. The leaves from the old gum tree were filling the gutters to breaking point. The children could not enjoy the pool as it was so full of debris and rain water, and the pool man was isolated in Gracemere. Even the poodle had taken on a rather musty, wet, damp smell.

However, I was determined to forget about my own problems. Deep down I knew that I needed to do something to help those poor unfortunates. Those poor people in the flooded areas were losing everything. Granted, they did not have much to begin with, they did choose to live in flood-prone area and they probably should have known better since the last flood. Still, it is times like this that a community needs to rally together.

With everyone wanting to be a hero, there were so many choices for anyone wanting to offer assistance and be part of Rocky history. It did seem pointless to volunteer for any dirty work, as there were plenty of others to help with those sorts of things. Baked goods were needed but why mess up the new Miele appliances when so many others were already baking dozens of freshly baked cakes and scones ready to be devoured by the over-worked volunteers. A donation of money seemed a crass and I did worry about where the money would be spent. A donation of goods would have to do. I spent a great deal of time scouring through shelves of books and ornaments and perused the old linen, bedding and furniture.  Walking around the house, I suddenly remembered the old lounge chair. It was weathered, a little torn and the dog had been sleeping on it but, really, these people had lost everything and I was sure would grateful for what they got.

With a sense of determination and civic mindedness, I managed to heave the old lounge chair into the back of the Outlander, being careful not to scratch the sides; it was new. The big old chair was omitting a rather strange odour – wet weather and wet dog – but nothing that could not be fixed with some air freshener. I proudly drove across town to deliver my donation to one of the many drop off points. It is times of disaster that everyone wants to be a hero so things were quite busy at the centre, there was no time for anyone to personally thank me for such a kind and thoughtful donation.  Still, it was not personal praise that was needed, just a feeling of helping out. It would be so nice to tell my friends about my selfless deed to help out those poor people who lost everything, not that they had much to begin with.

The remaining weeks of the flood were almost a non-event. Of course, I heard other people complaining about the rotten, rancid odour coming from the flood water and the fear of sewage contamination into the drinking supply. There were even stories of near riots over the last loaf of bread at bakeries. Things like that did not happen in my neighbourhood. The flood came and the flood left and with the exception of the dog missing its comfy bed, nothing changed.

However, my story does not end there. Months later my husband and I decided to join the bargain conscious bogans as they pulled out their ugg boots and dusted off their best flannies and attended the Rocky Swap. Quite rightly, it is not attended by our sort of people but it is quite amazing what some people think is trash. Last year, a friend managed to find an original Albert Namatjira; obviously the artistically ignorant seller had no idea of its worth.

Being unfamiliar with the Swap, we arrived after Saturday brunch to find most things sold. What was left was utter rubbish. Wending our way through the stalls, I was utterly disgusted to find, sitting there between a stall selling pin ball machine tables and rusting car parts, the lounge chair that I donated. How dare they! I donated that to charity, to some poor unfortunate people who should have been grateful for what they got. Making the situation even worse, the sign read ‘$5 smelly chair for dog’s bed’. Sure, we did use it as a dog’s bed and it was a tad on the odorous side but, surely, if you had lost everything – it really would not seem appropriate to try and sell off what you had been given.

Looking back, I realise I have resurfaced stronger after the flood and I know that next time the rivers rise and people are desperate for help, the poodle will be safe knowing that this time, he will keep his bed.

 (Mrs) Felicity Duckworth-Pilkington - as told to Davina Taylor-Pointing