Bruce wrote, "A major cyclone hit northern Australia at Christmas time 40 years ago, doing major damage in and around the coastal city of Darwin. An Aussie friend of mine was a 22-year-old member of a volunteer ambulance company in Darwin when the cyclone hit. She shared her reflections with me this week, looking back at her experience. Following her story, below, are some thoughts from a friend of hers who was in Darwin at that time as a 21-year-old member of the Royal Australian Air Force. I think you’ll find both stories interesting and informative. We talk a lot about what disasters are like from the incident management side, from the top looking down. These are good stories of what they are like when you’re down on the bottom rung of the ladder, as a responder or just trying to ride out the storm. My friend gave me permission to share these stories with you."
First account:
This year marks the 40th anniversary of Cyclone Tracy, which was very similar to Hurricane Katrina but much smaller in geographic size. It flattened most of our city and killed 66 people of a population of about 60,000. This is the result of some deep thinking.
It is 9:06 p.m. on Christmas Eve and I sit here at a computer and remembering that 40 years ago computers were things that filled a room, not sat on your lap, fitted into your handbag or could be held in the palm of your hand. Tonight there is no rain, no wind but the buildup is still making it very humid. I sit here relaxed and pondering what was. Very thankful that I was the rung at the bottom of the ladder of responsibility that night.
Our little home, a 16-foot caravan was tied down and prepared for Cyclone Selma. That was a good practice run. We used star pickets and 40-foot lashings to secure that van with the hope that there would be minimal damage. We anchored the annex by tying a suitcase of textbooks to a loop in the roof then tied ropes over and across the annex to stop it billowing up. We headed off for our rostered volunteer shift at St John. We checked the cars, restocked and prepared. Rain, rain, rain. Cyclone Selma was close. The phone rang and we headed off to a motor vehicle accident on the corner of Parap Road and the Stuart Highway. Limited visibility, everyone drenched, moderate injuries, slippery roads.
Christmas Eve, still more rain. Another cyclone, can’t be complacent. Van is anchored, everything is stowed. Same day of the week, same roster, maybe get there earlier. Cars checked, restocked and prepared. Time for tea. Fannie Bay shop and the man asks, 'Do you think this will hit?' Don't be complacent we say, listen to what they say. Did I go on any jobs that night? I don't know. Later when we changed shifts people came and people left. Some went home to be with family, some brought family to us. A team, one big family.
Phone calls come and crews are out. Rain, rain and wind. Uncertainty. Apprehension. Wind intensifies, ambulances still out. Phones continue to ring with reports of injuries and needing help. Need to remember first aid and explain over the phone. Danger, response, airway, breathing circulation. Improvise. Stop bleeding. Ambulances need to come back to the centre, wind too strong, too dangerous. A heart attack just across the road, can we help? Not sure. Get up to ask advice but quick as a flash and a gust of wind. The aircon is where I have been. A hole in the wall and the rain comes in. The notice board may block but it won’t be anchored. Walls of the comms room start to shake. Waterproof the phones and radios, need to preserve them. Garbage bags, plastic bags, sticky tape, anything will do. Windows break. The children in danger, we are in danger. We need to move so a safer area. We stand at the door and wait for a lull. Grants holds his new baby ready to run out of the door and down the stairs. The radio tower comes down with the cable just missing the baby. We all jump back and land in a heap. The baby is safe. We try again and with success reach the crew room but some are distressed. We see the damage happening out there and hear the roar of the wind. Howling, scraping tin, rain, train roar. Children play peekaboo on the bed. Adults are anxious and listen with dread. The wind is so strong. Was that the roof? Was that the wall? Are the cars OK?
Silence. We pause, we look at each other and wonder if it is over. Outside we go and the carnage we see but the man with the heart attack, where is he? The crew go to look but don't get far, it is impossible to find him. Roads strewn with debris, its 4.00a.m., too quiet, too still. A huge tree on my car, it won’t go far! The radio tower rests on the ambulance, it is dented and bent.
We hear the roar and race back inside. From safety we listen with despair and alarm to the wind which is crazier. The children play on and the baby sleeps safe, all unaware of the danger we face.
It is 6.00 a.m. and the wind has died down, we wait for a short while then venture outside. Are we the only ones to survive this night from hell? All around there is damage, not a nice site. The huge tree that was on my car has gone. The roads are all blocked, the debris is thick, people start to arrive, both the injured and sick. We check all the vehicles are safe and ready to go. No radio, no phone. We go to the school where people are gathering and ... my memory fails, we were out all day, we worked through the night but what were we doing? Those trips to the hospital, there were so many. ... Exhausted, fell asleep on the table in the crew room. Others asleep, but not for long. Back on the road. Blood, At Casuarina Square, triage the injured, keep the families together, no linen or equipment, just assurance and hope. The meat trays are dry, they are clean and ready, people lay in them protected for now. What were their injuries, I don't remember, there are so many. No linen for stretchers, bare covers that's all. Disinfect and go again.
The days and nights roll into one, fall asleep in the car on the front seat, stretch out in the back for a quick nap. The injuries we see are so varied from spinal to cuts and deep lacerations. Blood. We all work as a team and do what we can.
The pilot from Ansett. Who was he? He phoned my mum to tell her I was OK. She sat at the TV looking for news of me but now she could rest.
Our volunteer family are all safe though some are injured and in a bad state. She miscarried her baby but their children were found one in a bin and one on the ground. The families arrived and did what they could. No water, no power, so toilets were dug. Tents on the lawn. BBQ. I know I ate but have no idea what. Bath time at the airport fire station under a hydrant.
The nights are black, the rain keeps on, the sun comes out, the damage is done. Despair, pain, hope. We are changed forever, our outlook is new, I appreciate life, it’s taken on a new view.
Help comes from the south and our time is done we turn to home, if there is one.
What of our home? Why bother we say. And there it stands all majestic and grand. A rip in the annex but all safe and sound!
It’s 10:45 on Christmas Eve night and what have I learnt from 40 years ago. Our friends are precious 'things' we don't need. Live life simply and don't rush with great speed. Smell the roses and laugh at life. Listen, take heed, don't panic and you will succeed.
The second personal account:
I was posted to Darwin as a member of the RAAF (Air Force) base at the RAAF base in Darwin. I was 21 years old at the time of my posting to Darwin. I did not have leave that Christmas and hence, stayed in Darwin for the Christmas period.
I went to a Christmas party at a home on the base. We were informed that the cyclone was going to hit Darwin and to get prepared. I returned to my barracks to wait for the cyclone to come.
It arrived with a fury I could not imagine. My room faced the main road leading out of Darwin and I was amazed to the lights of cars still on the road when objects were starting to hit my barracks.
I woke the couple of other people in the barracks and went down the opposite end to the wind direction within the barracks and rode out the first part of cyclone crouched in the corner behind the fridge. Glass lovers started to break and shatter glass everywhere within the barracks. The noise was intense and it was very scary as heavy items started to hit the barracks.
All of sudden the wind dropped and it went still, this was the eye of the cyclone passing over.
What followed next still haunts me today. It sounded like a train coming in the black night and it was all the material being blown towards the building from the first stage of the cyclone.
It hit the building like a bomb going off. It was in this situation I waited for the cyclone to end. It was about 6 a.m. when I assessed it was safe to venture out. What I saw horrified me and it was at that point my work commenced in the recovery and clean up after the cyclone.
As a serving member of the RAAF I was involved in the initial search and rescue duties on and outside the base and the evacuation of the population from Darwin.
During this initial stages we found places to sleep at night on the base and finding food which was still frozen to eat. I will not go into too much detail of the horror of the situation as it still upsets me to recall the absolute destruction that I saw and the act of searching through homes of people and seeing personal items of families scattered within destruction and the odd sight to find a home with minor damage in a street where no other home was left standing.
My time was spent in the recovery exercise for two months. I was largely tasked to the role of spraying chemicals to keep diseases away due to the rotting materials.
I was employed on this task until my departure from Darwin. This was a very emotional task as you were constantly moving around the city spraying and seeing the utter mess and helplessness of the remaining citizens, mostly men who were trying to salvage something of their lives from the rubble that surrounded them.
I left Darwin, after being transferred to Richmond on Feb. 20. I remember that date clearly as it was my birthday. I landed in Sydney late in the evening, driven to the base at Richmond and started work the next day without any debriefing or counselling. Just get on with your life!
Of course, it is not that simple. I have periods when the wind picks up and blows around the house I become very agitated and scared the house will be blown away. I cannot get rid of this.
One incident that occurred whist in Darwin which haunts me the most is when my mother was finally able to get in contact with me and I appreciate that now as a parent. I received a call from mum in early February whilst at work. I was expecting a loving response from her but received a severe dressing down for not letting her know I was safe and alive. This still haunts me now.
I have been back to Darwin and I found it difficult to get out of my mind places and images which I recall from the cyclone and the following two months. I made the big mistake of going to the museum on Tracy in Darwin and entering the sound chamber. I had to leave it and my wife said she was distressed to see the terror on my face and in my eyes.
That is my story.
