That was no April Shower!

Like the massive rainfall event of March 1st two years ago, the past week's storms will be seared into the memories of those locals who experienced them.

On Monday evening cyclonic winds came raging at us from the South East shuddering houses on their stumps and bending trees until even large branches snapped and flew like missiles. Garbage bins were bowled over like skittles, their contents strewn to be dispersed further by wind and water. Before the lights went out, metre high waves could be seen - on top of the swell on a 1.9 metre high tide – crashing high on the shoreline delivering sea-grass by the pallet load. Yachts were yanking hard at their moorings. A few broke free. Trees that had stood tall and strong for decades succumbed to a superior force. The power flickered then failed as trees fell across the lines. We scrambled to find torches and candles.

Then came the deluge with horizontal rain belting belligerently against walls and windows. Gutters overflowed; roads turned to rivers. The wind gusts howled with increased ferocity. Hour after hour through the night, the storm savaged the Cove.

At last, as dawn approached, there was an easing. With the light we were able to look out and assess the impact. Branches everywhere. Many trees down. Some roofs and walls were badly damaged, speared by flying branches or crushed by falling trees. There were flooded basements and garages; boats blown onto beaches or rocks. Between the showers, locals began to clean up.

But this comparative calm was not to last. As the day progressed the rain became heavier and the roads became rivers once more. The cyclonic winds then returned as strong as ever – but this time from the opposite direction. Those who had been comparatively sheltered on the first night were now receiving the full frontal assault. Trees that had been weakened in the first onslaught were felled on the Tuesday night. More branches flew. More houses damaged.

As Wednesday dawned, the batteries at the Telstra hub could no longer produce a dial tone. Now we were without power or telephone, without water supply and flushing loos. But Cove residents are a resilient bunch. Gas stoves and barbecues were well utilised. Some lucky locals had access to a generator giving hope that their food in fridges and freezers might yet survive.

The sight of Essential Energy trucks entering the Cove late on the Wednesday afternoon raised hopes but, with so many lines down throughout the Cove, there was much to repair.

The calm which greeted the Cove on the Thursday was an amazing contrast. Crystal clear reflections in the water. People busy working, cleaning up the debris. Chainsaws revving into action. SES and RFS crews providing much-needed assistance.

That night, without the usual street and house lights, the clear night sky above the Cove was resplendent with a myriad of twinkling stars. By around 11pm, power was restored – some 72 hours after it had been lost. Normality was beginning to return. Still no Internet though. :(

We in the Cove had been lucky. Sure we had some damage and lots of inconvenience. But other areas had suffered much more than us from either the storms or the flooding which followed - sadly with the loss of several lives. And on Saturday, Anzac Day, the remembrances of sacrifice and hardship gave a proper perspective to the scale of the challenges we had been facing.

The SES and RFS volunteers continued to work hard on the Friday and throughout the weekend. Alas around midday on Sunday we suffered the first serious casualty of the week. The rescue helicopter was called to the Cove for the second time in just ten days – this time to evacuate an injured SES worker to hospital. We cannot thank enough, those volunteers, who give so generously of their time and energy on our behalf, sometimes risking life and limb.

Certainly this week's events will have an impact on our little village for a long time. Indeed, the views around the village already look a lot different.