SURVIVING THE FLOODS, with JOHN
It's been three weeks since the floods hit the region here in Northern NSW. What a time in history. With so many taking to social media with their views and opinions, it’s hard to know exactly what to say that hasn’t already been said. But I’ll give it a crack.
Firstly, I am conscious of generalising when talking about the people who were affected by the floods, as it is a significantly large geographical area, with many different communities and cultures. Please take this into consideration when reading.
Living in the Northern Rivers has a multitude of benefits, many people have built their lives around the abundance of natural beauty, good access to healthcare and education, outdoor living, cultural heritage to the land, creative entrepreneurship, you name it, it’s here. There are hilly areas and low lying areas, and the cheaper houses are on the flat. I myself was this close (holding my fingers an inch apart) to purchasing a house in Tumbulgum, a town which was devastated by the floods.
It could have been me.
I remember debating the flood issue with my husband over and over when we were putting in offers for houses. Three bedroom houses with generous backyards (for our energetic dog) were selling for around $650k in Tumbulgum, it was an attractive option compared to the more expensive neighbouring suburbs. Our thoughts swung…
‘It’s beautiful here near the river’ (which is the next best option if we can’t afford to live near the beach)
‘But what happens if it floods?’
‘Well, we will have nothing valuable on the bottom floor’
‘But we need storage’
‘We will put it all up high when the flood hits’
‘But what if we don’t have time?’
‘How will we get our cars out if it floods? If we drive out, where will be stay’
The conversation went back and forth, back and forth. In the end we didn’t want to pay the exorbitant insurance policy’s and after being evicted from our rental at the time (just as we were about to give birth to our first child), we knew going forward we wanted our lives to be as drama free as possible, so we decided against the idea and bought on a hill in Banora Point. But not everyone has the liberty of choice in this insane housing market. A friend of mine included, a 26 year old who bought a house in the area in December 2021, then come March 2022... Boom. House f*cked. Imagine all your savings going into your first home as a young person and after 2 months it’s in ruin.
Forty minutes down the road in Byron Bay the median house price for a 3 bedroom house is ludicrous 3 Millions dollars (yes, that is not a typo). In Murwillumbah, which was hit by the floods, which is 10 min from the smaller Tumbulgum, it’s $760k. So you could argue that lower socioeconomic people or families are the ones living in these cheaper low lying flood plains. This wealth gap seems preposterous, and how housing affordability in the Tweed and Byron Shire’s hasn’t been addressed is beyond me. Where do people actually go when they’ve been pushed out?
Chinderah is another suburb located on the Tweed River that was annihilated. It is 5 minutes from my house and has a multitude of permanent living caravan parks. When we went there to help with the clean up, it was glaringly obvious that the people living there were the more vulnerable and fragile members of society. They don't have much financial padding to rebuild from catastrophes like this. Many of them have chronic injuries and health concerns. We helped several people but built a relationship with one man in particular called John, who is in his sixties. I have been restoring his photographs, and also cleaning and drying his books and catalogues. He is a music fan and has several collector edition items which he is desperately trying to savage (he was banking on these being a financial asset in the future and worth serious cash).
We've been back to his home several times and each time he shares a little more of his story. Even though the circumstances that brought us together were dire, it’s actually been refreshing to mix with a man I wouldn’t typically hang out with, he has a unique perspective on the world. He believes climate change has been too politicised and instead of focusing on trying to turn the planet around (using the analogy of Superman or Hercules holding the Earth on their shoulders, trying to spin it in the opposite direction of its natural rotation, yet failing), we should adapt. He coined a new term, ‘climate adaptation’ and thinks that should be the catch-cry society should be focusing on, as no doubt Mother Nature hasn’t finished with us yet.
Look around you he said, these people can’t afford electric cars, they don’t have any investments, it will be the elite making the switch and we will be left behind. It didn’t seem like a promising future for him. So instead, he was focused on how to protect his home next time a flood hit, he doesn’t want to relocate, he wants to adapt, he has been living in that home for a decade. He was spinning off ideas for higher storage areas, stronger shelving, thinking about the best place to park his car next time, deciding he will never have carpet again, where he would put the most precious items he owns. His brain was in overdrive working out tangible solutions to his own problems. He’s not waiting for the government or corporations to save the planet and mitigate these disasters, he is focusing on what he can do in his everyday life, right now. It was inspiring.
Valuable lessons have come out of learning from John and leaning into his lived experience; Be as resourceful as you can, do what you can, if people around you offer help, let them (he politely asked me to keep helping with his things, three weeks on and of course I obliged), and sure be angry at whoever it is you want to blame for how it’s panned out for you, but don’t let it hinder your progress forward. Prepare as best you can, but remember to enjoy your hammock looking over the river, once it’s tied up again.
The pier in Chinderah which stands 20 meters from where John’s home is, two days after the flood hit and the water is still high.