Mary Holm’s Cyclone Gabrielle diary: Life with the five ‘No’s

I’m not complaining. I live in an area on Auckland’s west coast that was hit hard by Cyclone Gabrielle, but my house and I have come through unscathed, while many others have suffered terribly.

But in the last few days, I experienced something rather extraordinary – a sudden lack of four services that we all take for granted: no power, no running water, no communications and no way out of the area.

And then there was a fifth “no” – no knowledge of when this was likely to change.

That lack was deeply unsettling. We nearly always have some idea of whether a discomfort will last for another hour or another week or two, and can adjust to that. This time, the near future was a hole.

Police stop traffic at a road block on Waitea Rd, Muriwai beach. Roads to Auckland's west coast beaches have been closed to the public after slips and damage from Cyclone Gabrielle. Photo / Sylvie Whinray

I should perhaps modify things a bit. I had no electricity, but gradually I learnt that some neighbours had solar power, car chargers or generators, and I could charge my cellphone. But what good is a cellphone when the tower goes out, so you can’t use it?

I had drinking water. We had all filled lots of bottles when we knew the cyclone was coming. And my water tank’s overflow pipe must have been gushing all Monday night, when horizontal rain hurled itself at our houses.

But without power the pump from the tank was out, so toilets couldn’t be flushed and dishes couldn’t be washed. Hand washing was in a bowl. Tooth cleaning was with a glass of water in hand. A shower? Forget it. The same went for washing all the towels I had used to mop up water leaking through windows at the height of the storm.

After a day or two, the loo situation became dire, so I put buckets in my car and drove to a nearby pond. Only trouble was, driving home with even half-filled buckets risked spilling the lot, especially up my long bumpy driveway. I drove at about 10 km/h, and made it!

There wasn’t much modification on the communications front. I was glued to my transistor radio, and really appreciated RNZ. But I couldn’t call or email or text anyone, or receive the many heart-warming messages from friends and family that I finally read when things came right. That was perhaps the most discomforting thing – feeling as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

And how I missed the internet! It wasn’t just being unable to check the weather forecast – at a more local level than the radio provides. Or to check when the power company was expecting to get around to helping us. There was also the non-essential stuff. I would hear something on the radio I wanted to know more about. Or I needed help from a crossword solver for a couple of words I just couldn’t get. Or I would have loved to watch some happy-making music videos on YouTube. Or… It made me realise just how often I turn to Google.

As for the way out of here – the way to get back to power and water and communications – what info I could get wasn’t good. A local who lived on the only road out said there was a huge slip near him that he reckoned would take many days to clear. And then we had no way of knowing what other slips or road collapses lay beyond that landslide.

As it turned out, somebody made what seems miraculous progress on the road clearing (thanks, guys!), and the road is passable now. But who knew that a couple of days ago?

So there I was, boiling up water on a neighbour’s camping stove, savouring a cuppa, and pouring some water into a thermos for tea next morning - only to find that water in a thermos, even a thermos wrapped in a towel for insulation, is only lukewarm 12 hours later.

And I had some strange meals, deciding what to eat solely on the basis of what wouldn’t keep any longer out of the fridge.

I’d look at my five pieces of fruit, and wonder if I should limit myself to just one nectarine or peach a day - or should it even be every second day? How bad would future fruitless days be? Well quite bad really when there were no other treats going.

What should I do with my time? I couldn’t work, with no computer. Perhaps I should make the most of this chance to sort files, or go through my wardrobe and discard little-used clothes. But somehow I couldn’t motivate myself. It was as if my brain was whirring at top speed, but nothing was clear. Sleeping badly, and then trying to get to sleep by reading to weak torch light or flickering candlelight, didn’t help.

What could I look forward to? Meetings with friends that were in my diary for the next week or two might or might not happen.

Then suddenly it was all go. The light I had kept on so I would know when the power came back suddenly flickered to life. So did the taps and the internet and cellphones. And out on a walk, I met a young woman who had driven to our area to check on her parents and said the road was pretty good.

But for a few days at least I will hugely appreciate flush toilets, showers, and above all else, contact with people who matter.