The Great Flood

By biblical standards it wasn't epic.  Even by the standards of Inghamites, it wasn't worth worrying about too much but to us newbees, it was an amazing natural phenomenon.  There were whispers around town that the rain was going to eventuate into flooding.  This is nothing new for Ingham as the town pretty much floods at least once a season but the hows, whens and wheres are always different.  It depends on what catchment gets what rain and what rivers and creeks stem from said catchment.  Then there are questions about how long it has rained for and how saturated the ground is beforehand.  Then one has to throw in the local element whereby everyone has their own opinion about where it will flood and how high it will get.  Most people tended to compare any floods to the major 2009 floods which was when Brisbane went under and followed closely by cyclone Yasi in 2010.  That year was Ingham's biggest flood since 1967 and the latest benchmark by which to compare other floods.
When we woke up on the Thursday morning and looked out of the window, we were gobsmacked.  Everywhere around us was under water and not just a little bit but a lot.  There was no grass, no concrete and the bottom couple of steps up to the house were missing.  The road was gone and street signs and telegraph poles were sitting midstream as if they had been in the wrong place.  The creek which naturally flows from south to north was flowing in the opposite direction.  At the tributary with the Herbert River water had started flowing back down the channel pushing the creek water back.  As there was nowhere for the water to escape, it just flooded the town as it pushed back inland.
It is a very eery feeling stepping down into brown muddy water.  Although you are quite sure of the depth, there is always that feeling of uncertainty that something may have washed away and left a big hole under your feet.  It's also unnerving not knowing what is actually in the water with you when you can't see into it.  Steve and I tentatively stepped around and I could feel the grass and concrete under my feet even though I couldn't see it.  The Landcruiser which Steve had parked on the high side of the block was nearly up to the doors with water.  He quickly jumped in and drove it along people's front gardens and across the flooded road to where it was safe and dry once again.  When we opened the door to the bottom level of the house, we were greeted with brown water all through the rooms.  Thankfully everything on the tables had not been touched but our council recycle bin had tipped up and recycling debris was bobbing up and down in the murky water.  A couple of towels that were hanging on my underground clothes line were dangling in the water so Steve flipped them over the line.  We didn't dare open the door to the shower and toilet knowing full well that it would look no better than anywhere else downstairs.  After looking around, all we could do was shut the door and wait.  I waded carefully out onto the reserve near the edge of the carport to look and take some photos.  It was eerily quiet and still and the water reflected the houses which it surrounded.
Some time later, Steve waded down the street with the dog to go to work while the girls and I stayed stranded.  The spectacle was beginning as people from other areas of town were coming down to look.  Several people drove their cars down the street, realised that the road was blocked and u-turned to go back.  We only realised after the flooding subsided that our area was cut off from most of the town.  An aluminium tinny arrived to ferry people to their houses and out again as there was no possibility of walking.  Some friends called from the far bank to see if we were alright and to let them know if we needed anything.  Calls from other people during the morning made it clear that we weren't the only ones flooded in although we tended to have 'wetter feet' than anyone else.
Throughout the day, I watched with interest as locals, young and old, amused us from our vantage point.  On several occasions, young guys either waded or more often swam from one end of the street to the other.  One lad decided to do a few laps in our reserve while his mates watched from the safety of dry land.  Although the likelihood of crocodiles was slim, it still wasn't smart to tempt fate and serve yourself up as a tasty morsel should one be around.  Several 4-wds chugged through bonnet deep water and one gentleman in particular, an elderly man, glided along Hawkins street like he'd been doing it all his life.  Of course many attempted the crossing but either 'chickened out' or failed miserably and bobbed.  A woman waded through the water with arms upstretched to reach her mothers' place across the road from us.  A group of three adventure seekers floated down the fast flowing torrent in an inner tube which got caught in a tree.  All three took some effort to free themselves and continued on their merry way.
I photographed a cane toad doing breast stroke past our front porch and at one stage an unknown slithery creature was trying desperately to get above the tide line and out of the water.  I don't think it was a baby snake but more likely a leech.  Anyway I wasn't going to get any closer to find out.  Bubbles were constantly rising up in the floodwaters like some phantom scuba diver was swimming around in the murkiness.  It was the air pockets in the ground slowly being replaced by water and releasing bubbles.  One thing that was noticeable was the almost eery silence of any birds during the flood.  The usual calls which could be heard throughout the day were absent until the water has subsided.
All the sinks in the house were unusable because the floodwater had filled the drains and so no water was able to get away from the house.  I had dishes on the sink a mile high.  Erin and I were also quite mindful of toilet flushing and whether that was going to be as problematic as the sinks.  We had been delaying using the toilet as long as possible when all of a sudden we heard flushing.  Becca had decided to take herself to the toilet without letting anyone know and, of course, flushed.  Erin and I ran screaming into the toilet to stop her.  Becca looked at us like 'what was all the fuss about' as we all stood gazing into the bowl waiting for it to rise up and overflow.  Nothing happened!  To sighs of relief, we walked away knowing that we may have a couple of flushes up our sleeves for the day but we still needed to be careful.  I could only imagine the issue if this flood was to last a week as it did in 2009. 
At midday, the floodwaters had peaked and then started to recede.  By dinner that night I was able to use the sinks again and there was more likelihood of us being able to have a shower.  Grass was now visible in the muddy water and the house steps were exposed again.  When we woke up the next morning, it was as if nothing had happened.  The only indicator of a flood was the mud covered grass and the silty slurry on the concrete paths and floors under the house.  Hawkins street was clear and cars were driving past again as they had been two days before.  For several days the grass squelched under our feet when we walked on it and we didn't put any vehicles under the carport because the ground was so boggy.  Not a good look to have to use 4-wd to get out of your driveway in town.  It was Sunday before we returned our caravan back under the monolith.  This flood had been unexpectedly silent in that it crept up on us and although we knew it was coming, had no idea how all comsuming it would be........and it wasn't even serious in the eyes of the locals.  We just didn't expect to get up in the morning and see the extent to which the water had risen and how much of our area was swamped.  It certainly opened our eyes.