The Emotional Cauldron

The Universe works in mysterious ways — she gives, she takes and she delivers the lessons one needs to learn — but sometimes she’s a hard task-mistress!

This week has been a melting pot of mixed emotions that have kept me on high alert and drained me until I’m exhausted.

And it all comes with a name, Alfie — Tropical Cyclone Alfred.

This testosterone fuelled weather system started building off the north coast of Far North Queensland and set a few people’s teeth on edge.

It soon tested the waters (pun intended) and made our weather forecasters work extremely hard as it erratically toiled out in its playground, hundreds of miles off the coast.

The entire state of Queensland waited with bated breath, wondering who would be in the final firing line, if anyone.

We watched closely and we waited.

And waited!

As most people know by now I’m travelling full-time in my 4WD Ute and off-road caravan. I left Brisbane on 1 November 2024 with no real itinerary in mind.

That is, I did make the conscious decision not to go North from Brisbane, even though the north is my favourite place to be.

Why, you ask?

Because I once spent almost twelve years living in Mission Beach, in Far North Queensland and it’s a little patch of paradise.

But!

In 2006 I survived Cyclone Larry, a category 4 cyclone that almost wiped my house off the face of the earth. We lost everything we owned and had to replace the entire roof on the house, alongside other major damage.

Not something I wished to experience ever again.

But!

In 2011 we received a direct hit from Cyclone Yasi, a category 5 cyclone four times the size of Cyclone Larry.

Again, we lost everything we owned and to this day, I still don’t understand how we survived that monster. It was only because of the new roof, replaced after Cyclone Larry, that I didn’t lose the house.

It was after we picked up the pieces a second time that we decided to leave Mission Beach and head south, so we never had to experience the trauma of another Tropical Cyclone.

Hence the decision not to go north when I departed Brisbane, at least not until after cyclone season was well and truly finished.

But!

Cyclone Alfred decided to test my strength and test it he did.

I’m currently situated south of Brisbane in the northern part of New South Wales, foolishly believing I was safe from experiencing such a devastating weather event, but I was wrong.

Unbelievably TC Alfred began to track south down the coast of Queensland and headed our way.

I didn’t like the look of it and it began to trigger me due to my past experiences with the power of Mother Nature.

I watched as it cruised further south, disbelieving the fact that it was going to come all the way down to terrorise Brisbane (the capital city of Queensland) and even extend into the northern parts of New South Wales.

I knew we were in trouble!

Most people didn’t take the threat seriously at first because it’s been over fifty years since a cyclone tracked this far south AND actually crossed the coast.

So, we watched and we waited.

Then to our relief, the forecasters were predicting Alfred was going to continue south and then move east and not affect Australia at all.

We could all breathe again.

Well for one night only, as the prediction changed again on 1 March and we were back in the firing line.

It was Saturday, 1 March, that I began to really feel my traumatic triggers and my fear began to escalate.

TC Alfred was going to hit Brisbane, so the prediction foretold.

It hovered out in the Coral Sea, alternating between a category 3 and 4.

Brisbane, South East Queensland and Northern New South Wales is not built to withstand such devastation.

My fear began to rise, especially as I had left my son behind in Brisbane and I was struggling with the knowledge he was going to face this alone.

He too went through Cyclone Larry and Yasi, so he’d be triggered in the same way I was, at the thought of facing another cyclone.

I rang my son and suggested I return to Brisbane but he talked me out of it, disbelieving that the cyclone would really come this far south.

I fled to higher ground near the top of the Great Dividing Range, as the last thing I needed was to get stuck in floodwaters in a caravan.

And we waited.

Sunday, 2 March, my fear and anxiety began to escape as the Bureau of Meteorology began to predict Brisbane as a direct hit, although they downgraded the cyclone to a category 2.

It was here that Alfie began to play games, like a naughty toddler testing Mum’s boundaries.

Mixed predictions were thrown about as we all anxiously waited.

Headlines stating South East Queensland and Northern New South Wales would cop a thrashing were plastered over social media.

Monday, 3 March, saw the affected areas of both states put on Cyclone Watch and fears began to escalate, along with the wind where I was camped in the caravan. Nothing dangerous, but enough to give me a feel for what was coming.

I began to feel the terror of what we were going to have to face.

We were going to get a battering either Thursday evening, 6 March, or Friday morning, 7 March.

I seriously wanted to run, but I still believed I was far enough south to be safe.

Tuesday, 4 March, we were given the official advice to start preparing and I made the decision to leave the caravan behind and make a mad dash back to Brisbane on Tuesday night, so my son didn’t have to face this alone. Happy to head into the fray and drive the five hours to support my son.

But I didn’t, at my son’s request.

It was extremely difficult being so far away knowing he was on his own but he showed me his strength, kept reassuring me he’d be fine and he did me proud.

I sent him a mega list of preparations to make in the hope they’d save his life, in case his house tore apart.

Wednesday, I began to feel the high-speed wind gusts and knew there was no turning back now. It was too late for me to move, try to outrun or head back to Brisbane.

The course had been set.

I do not have the words to describe the terror building within my chest. The fear totally debilitating as I was well aware of the strength of Mother Nature when she chose to throw a tantrum!

I woke Thursday morning knowing it was D-Day and knew it was going to be a long, messy 24 hours.

But Alfred packed a mighty surprise.

Wednesday night it decided to play with our emotions as it partied, looped back to the east, pretended to move away and then reversed back to its westward track; hinting at increasing to a category 3.

Keeping us on our toes!

These antics ensured the system stalled on Thursday and slowed right down, until it was only travelling at circa seven kilometres an hour; delaying its coastal crossing into Friday night or Saturday morning.

It had given us another 24 hours to increase our terror, our fear, when all we wanted was to get it over and done with now. Sitting in fight mode for almost a week was taking its toll!

I was still experiencing gusty winds and my caravan was rocking like a boat out on the water. It was not a nice feeling and I’ll be honest, I was scared.

Friday finally arrived and again we waited. We’d prepared as much as we could and now it was in the hands of the Universe.

The wind speeds were going to be noisy and petrifying!

TC Alfred was in no great hurry and certainly took its time, spending some of Friday stalled at less than 200 kilometres east of Brisbane.

While we waited!

Friday evening arrived, the winds began to pick up and it was less than 100 kilometres east of Brisbane by 7pm. The Gold Coast and further south had seen trees falling, houses damaged, excessive rain and flooding for hours.

The southside of a cyclone always gets hit the hardest; except of course those in the direct path.

Over 100,000 homes had lost power by 8pm Friday night and that would only get worse as the cyclone closed in.

It was going to be a long 24 hours, as the prediction was that Alfie would cross the coast at 10am on Saturday, 8 March, taking nine hours to cross.

The danger of such a slow moving system!

Then Alfie surprised us all by downgrading to a category 1 at 11pm Friday night, 7 March and I breathed a sigh of relief.

That meant Brisbane wouldn’t get hit with either the destructive or very destructive winds, although they’d still experience gale force winds with gusts up to 120 kilometres an hour — not out of the woods just yet.

I could finally relax a little and even try to sleep.

I put music on in my caravan to block out the noise of the wind that was scaring me and tried to sleep. I did manage some sleep but I wouldn’t call it restful.

I woke on Saturday, 8 March, to find my caravan still. What an amazing feeling!

Rolled over, checked the forecast and was ecstatic to see Alfie was no longer a cyclone. He had been downgraded to a tropical low.

What a relief!

Not that we can get complacent.

Now, we get to experience the monumental amount of rain ex tropical cyclone Alfred has been saving for us. Anything up to 800mm in places and there’s going to be major flooding in South East Queensland and Northern New South Wales for days to come.

In fact, some communities are already experiencing said flooding and there are 300,000 homes without electricity, trees falling and more will topple as they get wet feet, houses damaged and the clean up to face.

Has there been any loss of life?

I’ve read of one man being swept away in floodwaters last night and I don’t believe he has been found. As to others, only time will tell.

All in all, we dodged a bullet as it could have been so much worse.

My heart goes out to all who faced this demon and especially those that are currently flooded or have had their homes destroyed.

I understand the devastation of their loss only too well!

In the meantime, it’s looking bleak out there, my caravan is back to rocking and bobbing and the skies are crying.

But there is a light at the end of the tunnel; finally!

All in all, we are alive.

That’s the outcome that matters; now, let the clean up begin!

This week has been hard for me with my past traumatic triggers and I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life. There were days there where I felt I couldn’t do this alone and that’s when the universe sent me some surprising godsends.

The biggest surprise was the support that I received from my soon-to-be ex-husband. He was my rock and he was the one that got me through the last 48 hours, texting me to check in, sometimes on an hourly basis, and talking me through the hours that I felt the most scared. He certainly came through for me and I couldn’t be more grateful. I send him my heartfelt appreciation, gratitude and thanks.

Secondly, I got to experience the beautiful empathy of a long-standing friendship of many, many years. Of the love of a beautiful woman, that although I’ve never met her face-to-face, I finally got to hear her voice and I feel it has brought the two of us closer together. She will always have my love and gratitude for her support over the last few days.

I send out a special thank you to my long-time supporters, friends and especially my sisters. You all may be over the other side of Australia but you played a big part in helping me keep my sanity; once again!