Kindness of strangers eases the pain of lost possessions

The day after the Makino Stream flooded, February 16 last year, Stewart Dyke inspects the caravan that became a danger to his home. Picture / Mark Mitchell

Colleen and Stewart Dyke have a new nickname since last February's floods - Mr and Mrs Noah.

There was no ark, but their three-storey replica French colonial house and section on the banks of the Makino Stream at Feilding were inundated.

Their basement flooded to within 30cm of the first floor. It had contained 50 years of accumulated treasures of their life and marriage, packed in boxes and waiting for the first and second storeys of the house to be sufficiently finished.

"Our whole life was downstairs," Mr Dyke said. "Our history, our books, thousands of books, our photos, our possessions."

There was a bright side. Just days before the February 15 flood they had moved themselves, some furniture and a handful of boxes with kitchen gear and linen out of the basement and up to the first floor.

"A week earlier and we'd have drowned in our beds," Mr Dyke said.

A year on, they look back on the fortnight following the flood as a sort of silt-sodden nightmare, leavened by the kindness of complete strangers and their families pitching in to help.

"That's what I remember when I think about the flood, the kindness of complete strangers," Mrs Dyke said. "And our family and friends."

People walked in off the street to help shovel muck out of the basement - at least 40cu m of it. They brought food.

They sorted through boxes and boxes of possessions, painstakingly washing anything that might be salvageable with clean water brought in for the job - reticulated water was not reconnected for five days.

Mr Dyke said the Makino breached its banks about 1am. He was out on North Street, watching the water ooze under houses and out driveways into the road.

"We knew then the basement would be bombed, but nobody thought it would be such a major flood. We'd lifted some things, but not high enough ... a friend helped me move a couple of the cars out on the street."

Mr Dyke collects and restores vintage and veteran Austins. One, still parked downstairs at basement level, had 2.4m of water flow over it and a large piece of timber rammed through its windscreen.

He watched as the water came in over the stopbank.

Inside the Dykes' basement, the water kept rising until it was just 30cm below the first floor.

Their most frightening moment was when a caravan, parked under the first-floor's veranda turned into a rogue buoy.

It floated up under the veranda's timbers, ramming them up to a near-45 degree angle and forcing doors into the first floor. Their son grabbed a rope, plunged into the flood waters and smashed the caravan's windows. It filled with water and sank like a lead weight, removing immediate danger to the first floor.

Police and civil defence workers were hammering at the door, yelling evacuation instructions. They fled Feilding through Reids Line - the bridge on that road was damaged about 10 minutes after they had crossed.

At first light the next day, against civil defence orders, they were back, determined to see what was left.

It was devastation.

Part of their section, closest to the bridge, had been scoured away by water pouring over the stream banks from Palmer Park. All the silt dug out of the basement and from over the gardens eventually went back to that edge, to consolidate the river bank. Mr Dyke has since built retaining walls of concrete and timber along the river edge.

"When I look back now though, I'm as happy as a sand boy. The basement flooded, but the house didn't. It survived what they called a 100-year flood - I say that's proof that it's a safe house, well-designed and above the worst of it."

The Dykes are still battling over contents insurance payouts. The Ombudsman has ruled in their favour, but local authorities say the section is uninsurable after the flood damage.

A year on, Mrs Dyke is still being reminded of what the flood destroyed.

"I'll think, 'I'll just get my cardigan', then I'll realise the flood took it."

Meanwhile, they have repaired the garden - the dahlias and tomatoes are doing well - and are still working on the house. Mr Dyke has built the second storey, and is finishing the inside of the first and second floors. The finishing timbers are macrocarpa, lawsonia and some larch.

The plans came from an 1859 French-designed house built on Whangarei's waterfront by Eugene Cafler. It was torn down in 1944, but John Stackpole's Colonial Houses of New Zealand described it as a quaint doll's house. Mr Dyke tracked information about the house through the Northern Advocate's photo files, and used them as the basis of his plans.

He has promised his wife the house will be finished on February 29 - some leap year. Not last year's, anyway.

- NZPA