Don’t decry the difficult task the emergency services face in the midst of a cyclone. Not for a moment. But, for many, their role probably has more appeal than the one a fellow hostel resident undertook. A lot more. Local shopping centre. Hastily turned into an evacuation centre. Couple of thousand people. Nervous. One set of toilets. One cleaner. Stewart. Think you get the picture. No. Worse. Much worse.
What’s easiest in Australia? Hunt down wild crocodiles at night or find a landline so you can take a call from BBC Somerset’s The Morning Show with Emma Britton? Found eight of the predators the previous evening. Eventually secured one line with a few hours to go. Not easy when you’re a traveller in a nation of mobiles. Key, I’d discovered, is to find a friendly international hotel chain and ask nicely. Explain your predicament.
I’d been quite determined to chat once more to Emma. Refused to believe I couldn’t secure a landline and make it happen. Not in Australia. Besides, rather look forward to the interviews. Feel rather honoured to be allowed to do them live. Trusted, presumably, not to say naughty words or commit other embarrassing faux pax. Not too many ums and arhs. I hope.
And, just in case you’re wondering, I’ve no idea what exactly I’ll be asked on air. Might have a few guesses, but nothing more. All part of the fun. Another challenge on the road. This time intrigued – and absolutely delighted – to hear my own voice in the introduction. Taken from a video clip shot during the height of Cyclone Yasi and posted on the website.
You can listen to the interview courtesy of the BBC iPlayer – just click here – the segment airs about one hour into the St Valentines Day show. Ends with a great Crowded House track.
Right. That’s the easy bit done. Waiting – with anticipation and trepidation in equal measure – for some honest, constructive feedback from an online audience close to my heart. Suffice to say, it might have been my forty #*^ birthday on the day of Cyclone Yasi. But what my parents think still matters as much to me as it ever did!
[Author’s note: Especial thanks of course to Emma Britton and the team at BBC Somerset. And to duty managers Ben, Valentine and Wiremu at Mercure Cairns Harbourside hotel for being so helpful to a perfect stranger and letting me use their landline. Even finding a quiet room to hide away in. The interview with Emma airs between 1hr 03 mins 20 secs and 1hr 11 mins 30 secs into the show. Available on the iPlayer until 21 Feb 11. Please note Ken isn’t responsible for the content of external websites]
Small box. Mementoes mostly. Back to Blighty by sea mail. Three months. And with it the cyclone survival guide I’d picked up in the local library. Didn’t seem much point holding on to it. Reckoned I’d got the check-lists off pat. Only thing missing was something to keep you occupied in the final few hours before the system hits. Seasoned locals favour board games. Monopoly and Scrabble quite popular.
I’d resorted to pacing up and down. Probably to the irritation of others. Could have been worse. Much worse. Might have been forced to take refuge in the relative confines of the windowless bathroom. For I can, a few close and candid friends have suggested, be a little loquacious at times. I like to think of it as wit and repartie. Still, not a huge stretch of the imagination to see others deciding to take their chances in the open. Quieter outside.
Forget Categories. Way you judge the size of a cyclone is by the number of chainsaws you hear in that days that follow. A veteran of eight cyclones had suggested they weren’t all bad. Saved on the pruning. And she didn’t mean just trees. Older, less well built or dilapidated homes as well. Thinning out the deadwood. Bit harsh.
Cairns narrowly avoided the full force of Yasi. The devastation a little further to the south. Still taken a fair pounding though. Little structural damage. But quite a bit of the city without electricity for several days.
And good luck trying to find fresh produce. Might get lucky with bananas. Only because they’ve trebled in price. Most of the home grown crop just having, quite literally, been flattened. As for anything in a tin…
But we’re not going to starve. And, being first world, it’s not soup kitchens those still without power have been turning to for a square meal. It’s Subway. Just opposite Woolworths. Doing a roaring trade.
Rains arrive from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Late afternoon. Day after Cyclone Yasi. Torrential rains arrive. And with it risk of flash floods.
Height of the storm from Ken Roberts on Vimeo.
Ken describes the scene in Cairns, northern Queensland, as Cyclone Yasi passes through.
I’d always planned to be in Cairns until around my birthday. One, thanks to Cyclone Yasi, I’m unlikely to forget. For a little while. Seems I may be here for a bit longer. Roads south blocked. Downed trees. Flooding. Extensive devastation. Picture sketchy. Emergency services presently "chainsawing" their way into some areas. And very real risk of localised flash flooding.
Delay unfortunate. But unavoidable. Besides, I’ve a large stock of tinned rations, hastily acquired in anticipation of having to be wholly self-sufficient in the aftermath of Yasi. All have to be eaten. Far too heavy to carry on the bike. Soups. Tinned tuna. Cans of tomatoes. Baked beans. Glad I’d remembered to pick up some extra toilet rolls…
I’d not get bored in Cairns. Snorkelling on the Great Barrier Reef might have to wait. But I’d heard there was another cyclist in town, who’d ridden up from Melbourne. Would have to try and track him down. Good source of intelligence for the road ahead.
I’d become our man in Cairns. Actually, BBC Somerset’s. Couple of radio interviews. Live. Always good for the adrenaline. Not that I’d be running low on it for a while. Courtesy Cyclone Yasi.
You can catch up on the interviews via the BBC Somerset iPlayer – simply click on the link. The first was broadcast around 9.30 am Wednesday 2 February on The Morning Show with Emma Britton. And the second went out around 4.10 pm the same day on the evening drive time show.
Times are a bit approximate – combination of my own slightly suspect recollections, confusion caused by time zones, and a lack of sleep. And I’ve no actual web access at the moment to check them out. Happy hunting!
Darkened city. A few street lights. Much of Cairns without power. The occasional bright flash casting an eerie glow across the suburbs. Sub-stations we thought. A few hours before Cyclone Yasi would peak. Wind gusts growing rapidly in strength. Ever more deafening. The lulls between them shortening with equal speed.
I’d been joined by Rowan, Paul and Yuki from the hostel I’d been staying in. Peering over the solid hotel balcony. A few trees blown over. Relentless pounding. Into the early hours. Mesmerizing.
On the street below a young woman. Backpacker we thought. Struggling along an otherwise deserted Lake Street towards the centre of Cairns. Beyond our reach. Barely able to hear each other. Hoping she found shelter.
By morning a clearer picture emerging. Trees down, much of the city without power, mobile communications intermittent. But, fortunately, relatively minor damage. Not the devastation we’d feared. A little further south – just a few miles – a different story. Roads blocked. Significant damage to property. Communications disrupted. Possibly for days. Maybe longer.
Destructive winds had passed by. But the risk of tidal surge lingered until the morning high tide had subsided. Waves lapping the Esplanade. And then the rains. Torrential. Throughout the afternoon. Into the evening. Yasi’s parting shot. Ground already saturated. Flash flooding a real possibility.
During the day a gradual return to normality on the streets. Slow start. People tired, jaded. Hasty preparations, little sleep. Catching up with them. Stories emerging. A baby born in one of Cairns’s evacuation centres. A shopping centre. Home to a few thousand people. The toilets soon pretty grim. But everyone safe.
It had been a stoic affair. For the most part pretty ordered. Good humoured. Couldn’t help noticing that fridge in the hotel room was hard wired into the emergency generator supply. But not the wall sockets. So no tea or coffee. Just cold beer.