I was startled into full consciousness by the sensation of Rachel's lips pressed gently against my forehead. I'd flaked out on the couch after working through the late afternoon and night on the worst day I have ever experienced in my short career.
"I'm sorry, babe, didn't mean to scare you."
I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was holding something back and whatever she knew that I didn't was big. I remembered being in the same position just before Christmas 2006, when a mutual friend of ours was killed in a workplace accident. She informed me that the parents of one of my close friends from school were among the 96 dead. It's likely I will have to brace myself for more. Also among the dead is one of Melbourne's former top newsreaders, Brian Naylor.
I have never experienced anything what transpired here on Saturday. I pray I never have to again, but bushfires are a part of life here. Hardly a summer goes by without some part of the state being scorched, but the only word that goes close to describing Saturday is "apocalyptic".
Melbourne recorded its hottest ever day on Saturday: 47.9 degrees centigrade. For my American friends, that's 118 degrees and an Australian metropolitan record. Humidity in the single figures and the wind from the northwest, which means it's coming out of the South Australian desert. We'd been warned all week that it would be a bad day for fire danger ... POTENTIALLY the worst day since the Ash Wednesday fires of 1983. I cannot compare the two (I was barely 6 month old at the time of Ash Wednesday), but it's the worst single day I can recall by a MILE.
The sirens of fire engines wailed past all morning, heading west to (what was then) the worst fire complex. By early afternoon, two new fires broke out to the south of my home town, which is 100 miles EAST of Melbourne (which is where I was). I'd retreated in doors for the day. Three major highways (the routes north, northwest and east) were cut on Saturday afternoon, and countless other roads. All but one television network is down and the telephone network is patchy. The radio remains the only effective, centralised disseminator.
Then, about 4.30 the sky began to turn that weird umber hue when mixed with smoke. Quickly the smoke became increasingly denser until 5.30, when you could have sworn it was midnight. You might have if it wasn't for the eerie tangerine light, heat, ash and smell.
It was at this time that I finally plucked up the courage to venture out. The wall of heat that struck as I crept out the door with my camera is something that I will never forget. If you watch "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring"; the bit where Gandalf stands on the Bridge of Kazhad-Dum and stares down the balrog as it menaces? Now, put yourself in the wizard's shoes and you might have some idea. Whatever moisture I had in my mouth evaporated instantly. My dad berated me for wearing sunglasses, but what else was I supposed to do to keep the ash out of my eyes?
As I say, 96 people are now confirmed as deceased, but that tally will rise as three towns on Melbourne's northern fringes have been incinerated. It's still too dangerous for recovery teams to enter, and they may not for days yet.
Anyway, it's now a quarter to one Monday morning. I better think about getting some sleep. It's going to be a harsh and bitter dawn. "May your news be good news, Goodnight."
11.48 am: An extra strong cup of (instant) coffee sits beside me, warding off the side effects of the sum-total of one good night's sleep in three days. I think I dropped off some time around 4.30. The death toll has been revised, upward to 108. This is only temporary however, the moment victim recovery teams are able to move in I'm sure that it will again begin to climb. TV's still out. Two of the three highways have reopened.
The fires close to my home town are officially listed as "suspicious", so much so that the specialist police taskforce established for the investigation of the fires a week before has been expanded. I've offered my services to them, so I suppose I'll be seconded until further notice.
I'll post some photos (of the fire, J!) later in the week.
"I'm sorry, babe, didn't mean to scare you."
I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was holding something back and whatever she knew that I didn't was big. I remembered being in the same position just before Christmas 2006, when a mutual friend of ours was killed in a workplace accident. She informed me that the parents of one of my close friends from school were among the 96 dead. It's likely I will have to brace myself for more. Also among the dead is one of Melbourne's former top newsreaders, Brian Naylor.
I have never experienced anything what transpired here on Saturday. I pray I never have to again, but bushfires are a part of life here. Hardly a summer goes by without some part of the state being scorched, but the only word that goes close to describing Saturday is "apocalyptic".
Melbourne recorded its hottest ever day on Saturday: 47.9 degrees centigrade. For my American friends, that's 118 degrees and an Australian metropolitan record. Humidity in the single figures and the wind from the northwest, which means it's coming out of the South Australian desert. We'd been warned all week that it would be a bad day for fire danger ... POTENTIALLY the worst day since the Ash Wednesday fires of 1983. I cannot compare the two (I was barely 6 month old at the time of Ash Wednesday), but it's the worst single day I can recall by a MILE.
The sirens of fire engines wailed past all morning, heading west to (what was then) the worst fire complex. By early afternoon, two new fires broke out to the south of my home town, which is 100 miles EAST of Melbourne (which is where I was). I'd retreated in doors for the day. Three major highways (the routes north, northwest and east) were cut on Saturday afternoon, and countless other roads. All but one television network is down and the telephone network is patchy. The radio remains the only effective, centralised disseminator.
Then, about 4.30 the sky began to turn that weird umber hue when mixed with smoke. Quickly the smoke became increasingly denser until 5.30, when you could have sworn it was midnight. You might have if it wasn't for the eerie tangerine light, heat, ash and smell.
It was at this time that I finally plucked up the courage to venture out. The wall of heat that struck as I crept out the door with my camera is something that I will never forget. If you watch "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring"; the bit where Gandalf stands on the Bridge of Kazhad-Dum and stares down the balrog as it menaces? Now, put yourself in the wizard's shoes and you might have some idea. Whatever moisture I had in my mouth evaporated instantly. My dad berated me for wearing sunglasses, but what else was I supposed to do to keep the ash out of my eyes?
As I say, 96 people are now confirmed as deceased, but that tally will rise as three towns on Melbourne's northern fringes have been incinerated. It's still too dangerous for recovery teams to enter, and they may not for days yet.
Anyway, it's now a quarter to one Monday morning. I better think about getting some sleep. It's going to be a harsh and bitter dawn. "May your news be good news, Goodnight."
11.48 am: An extra strong cup of (instant) coffee sits beside me, warding off the side effects of the sum-total of one good night's sleep in three days. I think I dropped off some time around 4.30. The death toll has been revised, upward to 108. This is only temporary however, the moment victim recovery teams are able to move in I'm sure that it will again begin to climb. TV's still out. Two of the three highways have reopened.
The fires close to my home town are officially listed as "suspicious", so much so that the specialist police taskforce established for the investigation of the fires a week before has been expanded. I've offered my services to them, so I suppose I'll be seconded until further notice.
I'll post some photos (of the fire, J!) later in the week.