9:30pm - There was some incredible footage on the news today of flash flooding in Toowoomba. Even though it’s on top of a mountain, the main street looked more like the Colorado River, more than a meter deep. Cars were being piled on top of each other, stacked like roof tiles. One of the vans knocked down two trees before coming to rest on a growing stack of upended vehicles in the street. A man was trapped behind one of the trees until he was rescued by emergency workers. Truly unbelievable.
11am - The flooding in Toowoomba seems to have only been the start. The water has continued to tear down the eastern face of the Great Dividing Range into the Lockyer Valley. It is ripping houses off their foundations, and sweeping people out gaping holes torn without warning in the sides of their homes.
The floods are coming here. The Buereau of Meteorology are expecting the river to peak tomorrow in Brisbane, near the levels of the 1974 floods. We have been hearing about the Flood of ’74 since we moved here seven years ago.
The dojo didn’t flood in 1974, but I will put everything up high, just in case.
7pm – I went to the dojo and Myriam met me there with some trestles to put the mats up. I built some rough tabletops with the leftover pieces of the shelving that I removed when I fitted the dojo. She said that she was planning just to put everything up inside her house, as it had survived ’74.
I helped Myriam trolley her washer up the stairs out of harm’s way. The Oxley Creek was already swollen with recent rainwater runoff, and it was lapping at her back lawn. When I arrived, Myriam had just gotten off the phone with someone she knew who worked at the Wivenhoe dam. She told me, “They’re worried about the dam. They need to release a lot more water.” She still plans to remain at her place, though.
1pm - This morning the reports were getting worse. The flood peaks are now expected tomorrow, and they are saying the flood will be bigger than ’74. The worrying thing is that they won’t say how much bigger.
I got Eddie to help me move the mats to my garage in Springfield. The water was already rising in the street in front of Jade’s house. Susan, whose apartment backs up to the dojo, let us go through her place since I forgot my key. Eddie broke down the door, and we got the mats out. I put everything up that I could, and got Sensei’s photo out. It didn’t seem right to leave him there.
I feel very uncertain about what is coming. I double-checked the drainage systems around my home to be sure that we will not have to evacuate. The people in Centenary Village, where the dojo is, seem entirely unconcerned about the water rushing towards us. I don’t know if that means I am overreacting or they are in denial. Given that their neighbourhood floods in even ordinary rainstorms, I am surprised at their attitude.
9pm – Liz and I have spent all afternoon trying to convince Jade and her family that they need to vacate the Village. After two hours of back and forth by SMS, Jade’s mother has agreed to move the family and pets out to our place to ride things out. The flood is looking scarier and scarier. The flood maps released by the government show most of the Village underwater, but there is no indication how deep it will be at any given point. We have got everyone in and settled, and while we are all nervous, I am more confident that we are in a safe place.
I am questioning my choice to renovate the dojo, however. I have put a lot of time and money into it, and this flood has the potential to wipe out the past year’s work. The mats are safe, but that won’t help much if we have no place to put them down. I can’t imagine how Jade and others like her feel who are facing the possible loss of their homes.
I texted Myriam, and she is packing up to evacuate.
I went to bed just after 4am, the first predicted peak of the flood. The news looked grim from all around Ipswich and Brisbane. Goodna and Jindalee went under early, and the last word we had from the Village was that water was about 6 inches above Jade’s floor.
We got a call this morning from Cathy, the president of the Darra Community Group, saying that the water had receded and that we should come and start cleaning. I was concerned about the second peak coming this afternoon, but we went.
The water line on the side of Jade’s house was about a meter above the floor. Her family lost nearly all their furniture and many of their personal belongings. The house is uninhabitable, and will be for a long time.
The dojo, however, has been spared. Susan’s apartment at the back has a waterline that runs less than 1 inch below her floorboards. There is a step up to the dojo floor from her apartment, meaning that the dojo was about 6 inches above the water line. We are without power, but the dojo will return to normal.
After working to clear Jade’s house of water, sewage, debris and ruined possessions, we spent most of today driving across the city to complete some urgent errands. I have seen more of the devastation and heard countless tragic and heroic stories. What everyone agrees on is that Brisbane will not be the same again for a long time.
I have decided that I will get the dojo back on track as quickly as I possibly can. I can’t do much for most of the affected, but I think getting classes going again in short order will restore some of the rhythm of life which will help counter the shock of this extraordinary moment in Brisbane’s history. I can help a few people get their lives going again, in a small way.
John from the dojo turned up in a crew who had volunteered for the smelly, heavy, wet and hazardous work of removing sodden carpet. The flood waters have been festering in pile and underlay for two days, and warnings are everywhere about infection, disease and parasites carried by the slow torrent of filth that rose up to swallow the city.
While driving loads of salvage from Jade’s house to mine, I mull over my plans for reopening. I am keen to get classes started on Monday, but we have no power. I am hopeful that Eddie will be able to get the mats in, but estimates on the restoration of Darra’s power supply are in weeks, not days.
Liz has put forward the excellent idea of running classes for free for a time. The people who most need the return to routine will be those who can least afford it.
Chris rang to ask if he could help with cleaning up the dojo. I told him it had survived untouched, but that Jade’s home was not so lucky. He offered his help, and we broke down some exercise equipment, which Chris stored for Jade.
More good news for the dojo. Power has been restored. No need for generators, oil lamps, or any of the other ideas I was mulling over to get some light in there. As long as we can get the mats back in tomorrow, we will be ready for classes.
Eddie came through as always. He was at Jade's house in the morning to disinfect and power-wash the place out, and then he came to my place to pick up the mats. We got them back in, and the dojo into come semblance of order for class tonight.
Jade and John were there for our first class this evening. As Jade had aggravated an old knee injury, we had a jo class to save her the ukemi. John is such a trooper. He has been working for days on cleaning out homes, and he still turned up to training! Bullockhead Creek Dojo is going to get back to normal.
I have been thinking a lot about service and the combined efforts of community to get back up and running. I think I need to re-read Musashi's chapter on "The Way of Walking Alone."