Flood Aftermath: Fallout and Cleanup
May 23, 2007
by Michel & Jane DeRidder

Several weeks ago we wrote about a weather bomb that triggered eighteen inches of rain in thirty-six hours in our adopted home base of Northern New Zealand. Here's a report on the aftermath of that historic event, for the boating as well as the land-based community.

The flood was followed by high tides, in which New Zealand's Bay of Islands (and the entire northern coastline as far as that goes) was once again littered with logs and debris washed out of rivers and off beaches by extra-high water. Some of the logs were barely afloat and difficult to see: one of the high-speed rooster-tailed tourist head-boats hit one such.

There have been mudslides in many areas around the Bay of Islands where locals cannot remember anything like it ever happening before. Most, but not all of these, have been caused by road works and over-development. The intensity of the deluge and the nature of the clay soil causes it to become almost liquid when saturated.

Impassable roads between Opua, Kawakawa and Paihia were soon cleared (if only to one lane at first) to allow trapped motorists who had spent the night in their cars to make their way home. A Kerikeri motorist told us how his two-hour trip had stretched into twenty-eight hours. We are amazed at the number and size of the slips and washouts whose scars are still visible along the roads. Forty houses in Opua alone were either not able to be reached or were declared unsafe.

Cliffhanger house in Opua.

The Opua Cruising Club served as an emergency shelter at the time of the flood, housing about eighty trapped people for the night, many of them school children. It cannot have helped that the power and water were both off. The people coped thanks to a borrowed generator and the Opua Store nearby where they were able to get food to make up great vats of hot soup. "Don't go in the club unless you absolutely must", friends were told, "and if for some reason you do go there, for God's sake, don't mention the word 'Mummy'." Fullers put on a special ferry first thing in the morning to take marooned school children and cars to Paihia.

Doug's Shipyard suffered a mudslide which slithered through the premises and covered the machinery, making it impossible for hauled vessels to be launched. At Ashbys Shipyard, many of those on the hard discovered only the next morning the drama enacted while they slept. The ground had softened with rain, the props jiggled in wind gusts, and one large deep-keeled vessel tumbled over - fortunately toward the perimeter of the yard, not toward its neighbours - a scenario which might have initiated a domino effect. The ripped glass hull had already been patched by the time we got there. Later, several other vessels brought into the yard obviously flood-scarred and damaged, with varying degrees of seriousness. The yachts that broke loose are being cleaned of mud, dried out, repaired, and new moorings or pilings found for them.

Fallen boat's patched hull.

We met an Aussie cruising couple who are preparing to escape approaching winter by leaving with the annual Island Cruising Association fleet of approximately twenty vessels bound for Tonga in May. They are not being given a reduction in lay day charges even though they were unable to work on their boat for several days, first because of pelting rain then because of lack of power and water. Mind you, they are more than usually stressed after discovering that their old English Ford has well and truly packed it in and must be replaced. Determined to be ready on time, they managed to discover one of the last of the Yanmar older models being superceded by new ones, on special in Auckland, so they bit the bullet and ordered it. They said that a heart-warming United Nations of helpers from surrounding cruising boats gathered to help them lift out the old engine. Trouble is, the exhaust must be made larger and the engine bed beefed up for the guarantee to be honoured, all costly, time consuming and unexpected extras. They still hope to be able to meet the May 6th deadline to join the rally to Tonga.

Danish vessel's electrolysis solution.

We wandered about Ashbys yard, noting the number of nationalities and boat types represented. Michel observed, "They are all so very different one from another that it is amazing that they all manage to serve the same purpose." One sturdy steel Danish vessel in particular took our eye. We spoke to the young couple who own her; they were so thankful that electrolysis in the hull was found here where there are first class facilities to deal with it, rather than discovering the serious problem in Vanuatu where they are headed soon. It is not only flood damage that concerns the cruising fleet!

Woodwind being taken away.

Back in the Kerikeri River, Woodwind, the last of the stranded vessels cast up on the bank, was pulled off on the spring tide by the ex-owner/builder who had cruised her over 100,000 sea miles worldwide before he built his present larger boat. It was the worst damage ever inflicted on the ferro vessel in its entire long life of adventure. When she broke loose she was still connected to a boat whose steel pipe bowsprit had caught in her deck house window, caving in a corner of it before wiping out the stanchions on the starboard side.

Just downstream of the Stone Store Basin, several of the vulnerably placed pilings are still missing. In nearby Waipapa Landing, silt and debris plugged the harbour. When last we looked, logs were still jammed under the new floating dock, though the vast mat of logs, branches, roots and vegetation - some waterlogged - had been hauled up the bank and carted off in several large truck loads. Michel had helped drag some of the offending logs out from under to tow them over to the beach, and in so doing had burned out our outboard motor. ("A good turn never goes unpunished," as the old saying goes.)

The debris in Waipapa Landing, most of which was dragged up the bank.

Three navigation markers from the Stone Store Basin are still missing. There are still large sunken roots and logs in awkward and dangerous positions. The Number 13 estuary marker has been re-sited thirty meters from where it was. "Do not use it for navigation purposes," we are told repeatedly, though the channel is far deeper where it is indicated now. We can only presume that it is the charts and the electronic navigation equipment that are out of whack at the moment. Locals miss the steam launch which regularly plied the river, prevented from legally operating until all navigation beacons are back in position. The various boats that were washed out of the river, some of them damaged in various ways and filled with muddy water, are being cleaned of mud, dried out, repaired, and put to rights. Quickly said, slowly and painstakingly done. Several of the vessels have a long way to go yet.