The whole of Western Australia is flooded. There are always floods in the Northern half of WA at this time of the year, as it lies in the tropics and it is the monsoon season. However, the floods up north are more severe than usual.
The bottom half of Western Australia is dry at this time of year, as our wet season is during winter. However, due to La Nina or some other filly we have had an unseasonal drenching.
River levels are still rising and we are getting more rain out on our ancestral acres in Dale that what Perth is getting currently. Our block has another 4 days or rain according to the weatherman.
Would love to know how much water is going into back dam, but not about to try and drive over there.and it takes to long to walk over there – especially with all the rain
[Other pics at bottom of this post]
I am not sure why, but for some reason the Spouse and I have always got stuck in them. Floods, I mean
The first flood was sans spouse in the Central Coast of New South Wales, when I was a high school student. We had 6 inches of rain overnight! This was truly impressive. What was not impressive was the fact that our main road was not flooded and the school bus was able to catch and decant all its unwilling passengers at our local high school.
As I found school totally boring at the best of times, this was just another nail in the coffin of “School and me.”
The second flood was in the Namoi Valley in NSW in the early 70’s. I ended up in the slow milk train from Sydney to the North West of NSW, with my preciouse motorbike (which always had an electrical problem which caused to blow fuses, so that I replaced the fuses with wads of aluminium foil _ Hey! It worked, OK!!
The milk train (so called because it freighted milk, newspapers and other essential items to the North West – now it transports drunks and other violent offenders, apparently, so a single female woule be risking her reputation to day the very least ,) got as far as the beginning of the valley and refused to go any further.
No problem. I just decanted my bike and rode. off into the sunset. Got as far as a friend’s place in an other town and could go no further. Rode to friend’s place and he was not home, so let myself in.
Hours later folks arrived, but not friend. Friend was either not living there any more, or was not the tenant, and new people were strangers.
They were not amused by my presence.
Hung my tail, leapt on mighty warrior bike and disappeared into the flooded sunset….
Fast forward a few years and I was in Katherine – the romantic center of “We of the Never Never” – google it you unwashed members of the Peanut Gallery!
Katherine, during the Wet Season, was overcast and oppressive – hundreds of miles of forest in all direction. When you got off the plane in the Wet Season, from Down South, the dank grey gloom descended on you like a clanky grey metal blanket.
As the Wet Season is so oppressive and you are shut off from civilisation and normal food items like lettuce and tomatoes are not available ( in fact all fresh produce is unavailable, unless the grocery store pays a premium by air freighting it – there was the time when one of the two local “supermarkets” managed to air freignt in a mob of lettuce – wrapped in baby clothes or some other sort of totally incgrous goods.)
But I digress, and unfortunately I have a bad habit of that;)
As there is not a lot to do in the Wet Season, except for scratching all your skin lesions caused by Barcoo Rot ( an NT term for scurvy), there was only one thing to do – have a party and drink lots of alcohol.
So there I was, a few weeks later, driving a dude’s ute ( what USA folk call a pickup) down to the Low Level. In Katherine there were two river crossings – the High Level and the Low Level. The High Level was a railway you slipped, slithered and slid across, due to the railway line, during the Wet Season. The Low Level was the crossing during the dry season when the river was low. It was also the favorite swimming hole in the Dry Season.
So there I was driving down to the Low Level in the middle of the night with a mob of drunken fellers in the tray at the back and they were all singing bawdy football songs at he top of their voices.
When we got to the Low Level, the mob of drunk males poured out of the back of the ute, still singing raucously. Through the fumes of his booze-addled brain, the owner of the ute decided it would be a good idea for me to have a swim. With no warning, he picked me up and tossed me into the raging waters of the Katherine River, which was in full flood!
Apparently this was a normal courtship ritual for the untamed males in the north 😉
Unfortunately, I had my handbag with me and contents spewed out into the angry torrent!
1. I was a strong swimmer
2. I managed to rescue my handbag and all its contents before they ended up thousands of miles away down at the South Ausralian border.
And, most unbelievably I married the idjit female tosser!!
Then there was the flood in Coober Pedy.. but maybe for another time…