Guardian Australia reporters, editors and contributors reflect on their experiences of wind, rain and power outages from ex-Tropical Cyclone Alfred
At 9am it’s still gusting like a bastard in our corner of Surfers Paradise. The street is still OK, but there’s a fair bit of debris, and branches are still coming down during the more violent squalls. Quite deceptive really: one minute you think things have died down, and next minute another mini gale howls through.
We seemed to get the full force of it in the early hours of this morning. Sleep was not much of an option. Very glad not to live in a high rise – some of the social media footage from residents in towers such as the Q1 (Australia’s tallest residential tower) is quite terrifying.
Of all our friends and family on the Gold Coast we seem to be the only ones – at least of those we can contact – still with power. If the newsagent was open I’d buy a lottery ticket.
Aside from some minor water damage, the house is intact, and apparently roads are still passable, so we can get out later this morning and retrieve an elderly mother-in-law who is without power and phone.
Living right near the Nerang River, our hope now is the forecast rain doesn’t materialise. Already the “low” tide is one of the highest I’ve seen and the water – where I kayak most days – is a torrent.
Days of 90% plus humidity mean every surface in the house is damp, and the task in the weeks ahead will be winning a running battle against mould.
Paul Syvret – Gold Coast, Queensland
It’s like waiting for Godot. Here on the Sunshine Coast hinterland, the night was uneventful. I slept like the dead, woke unusually late, and felt almost guilty. Outside, it was quiet, with just a light drizzle of rain. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
We were told Alfred was going to cross the coast and head for the hills this morning. That hasn’t happened. What remains of the system is still hanging around the Pumicestone Passage. We got up and went for coffee.
Plenty of the local shops were closed, but the ones that weren’t were happy to make the most of the reduced competition.
I’m more than well aware of our good fortune: that a quarter of a million people south of us are without power, dealing with damage and displacement.
I’m also well aware of the vagaries of weather forecasting. And that it’s not over yet. But our memories of 2022 are still vivid, and I’m grateful that this time we’ve dodged a bullet.
Andrew Stafford – Sunshine Coast, Queensland
Winds are still wild and gusting here in the Byron region, and show no signs of easing. It’s too dangerous to go outdoors. We have a break from the rain right now but it was torrential again overnight and we know it will be back. Everything feels a bit damp and cupboards are starting to smell musty. Plenty of circulation outside though – the wind is literally shredding the bark off trees.
We still have no power, no internet, and one lousy bar on a 4G network, so patience is making its comeback as a virtue. Getting two bars on my phone from time to time is my only dopamine hit and there’s zero chance of loading any weather maps. Not much else to do except sit here and wait, and try to remember what life was like before the internet. We never had a God-like view of moving cyclones, but it was good, I think.
Lucy Clark – Bangalow, NSW
The wind was bad last night, but not as bad as the night before and our little house is still standing. Brisbane may have dodged a bullet but there is frustration in some parts of the northern rivers, which have been without power, internet and phone reception for days now.
We’ve been without power for two days, and let me tell you how much I hate the creeping humidity. Everything is damp.
Byron has managed to maintain power and communications – even as some of the mighty Norfolk pines on Main Beach didn’t make it – but surrounding communities have been left in the dark, leaving kids to go stir crazy and forcing their parents to get creative to find out what’s going on.
With multiple flood evacuation orders in place, the people of the northern rivers are a tough bunch. People park their cars at the top of the Coolamon Scenic Drive lookout to get a signal, and some businesses, such as the Bangalow General Store, had the good sense to rent a generator, making them a community hub.
This morning, the line for real coffee queued out the door but the generator was struggling to keep up with demand – causing a mild panic when it briefly cut out with a visible puff of black smoke!
Royce Kurmelovs – Northern Rivers, NSW
I watched the Rabbitohs-Dolphins game over a whiskey and then promptly slept through the whole thing.
A couple of staff slept at the Kedron emergency centre last night because it was deemed unsafe to return home.
But in the early hours of this morning we got the news that Brisbane had been taken off the emergency warning list for wind. I woke my wife for a minute to give her the news and she promptly went back to sleep. I don’t think we lost power; if we did, it can’t have been for long.
To cap it all off, I have had breakfast at a local coffee shop in Kedron. Traffic was still extremely light, but convenience stores were open.
Ben and Caitlin at Odin’s Hollow are sanguine about the natural disaster.
“Everyone needs coffee. And if I can get here, I’m open every day,” Caitlin said.
“Cyclone doesn’t show up? We might as well.”
Andrew Messenger – Brisbane, Queensland
Read more of Guardian Australia’s Tropical Cyclone Alfred coverage: