After an early morning surf at Mangamaunu with 2-3ft right handers peeling into the bay, it was time to take stock and return to Christchurch. We'd heard some of the news and seen some images, but had no idea what was really happening on the ground. The drive down was a little over 2 and a half hours and eventless until we reached the outskirts of the city. The roads were in much better condition than a few days previously, with massive holes filled in with gravel and the major bridges repaired in haste. The ride through the north eastern suburbs still not plain sailing, with significant amounts of mud and liquefaction to try and avoid.
On arriving home, we were told about a food bank that had been setup in the school around the corner, so after checking the house over for further damage, I headed over to see what was happening. To my amazement, the school hall had been turned into what I can only describe as a mini supermarket, but without the cash registers. Significant amounts of fresh food, fruit, veges, you name it, were available. On entering, I was handed a box and put into a line of people that slowly moved through the hall, having the box filled with necessities to get you through the next few days.
Once the food had been collected, I headed towards the pier where the NZ Army had setup a water purification depo, where they collected seawater and processed it into drinking water. It was great to see all their equipment working and speak to some very friendly army personnel. It felt like we were finally getting the help we needed.
Then came dinner, and we headed around to our neighbours with the awesome bbq. Our Jersey Spuds had been cooked and a feast had been prepared. It started to get dark, and with no power, water or sewage, it was time to go to bed. Navigating around the house by candlelight with no residual light from the street reminded me of the many times camping at St Ouens.
Authors Note: I'm writing this from Australia. The past few days have been spent in Sydney before travelling to Brisbane last night. It's strange to be able to stand on solid ground without the earth moving around you. We've also caught up on the news of the Japanese quake and feel so sad for the people affected there.
Day 3 was the day to collect Buzz, our trusty car and escape from Christchurch. I spoke to our good friend Tom and agreed to meet him at Buzz around 9am. We succeeded in jump starting Buzz after I had knocked the parking lights on in our haste to get home a few days before. We then used Tom's GPS to find passable roads that would lead us home through the streets of destruction.
When we reached the only main road that was open, I saw a hitchiker, so pulled over and gave him a lift. He only wanted to go 2km up the road but I could see he was visibly shaken and needed a ride. He was silent for almost the entire journey and when I asked if he was ok, he simply replied "yup". I didn't want to impose, so I dropped him off where he wanted to go and said goodbye. I really hope he's ok.
When I got home, Debs and I went round to our neighbours hours where they were cooking LOTS of food on their BBQ. We caught up on the local happenings and avoided talk of the wider crisis. Our neighbours showed us where an artesian well was located so we could access water for flushing the toilet / drinking after boiling several times. We then realised our mobile phones were almost out of power, and with nowhere to go to charge them, our communications with the outside world, family and friends would soon be cut off.
Authors note: exactly a week ago, the earthquake hit. It's now 12:53pm and here in New Zealand, people have just observed a 2 minute silence. I have so much respect for the brave men and women working tirelessly in the CBD to continue the rescue work.
We contacted Pie and organised our escape to Kaikoura. Both Debs and Pie's support during the escape from the CBD on Tuesday, along with their awesome humour made it so much more manageable to deal with the previous few days stress. They were both awesome throughout the whole experience.
It was decided we would head north later that day to Kaikoura, but before we left, Debs decided to dig up our garden and give the veges to our neighbours. The Jersey spuds we'd been growing were finally going to be enjoyed.
On our drive north, the queues for petrol outside the city were incredible. We reached Amberley, a sleepy town up the coast from Christchurch and had to wait for almost 20 minutes before being able to fill up. Luckily the station still had fuel unlike others further down the coast. We filled up before continuing our journey to peacefulness.
About 20km up the road, Buzz started to loose power and noises from the engine became louder. This continued for the rest of the journey and I thought it might be a block in the fuel filter. Once we arrived in Kaikoura, we headed to a mechanic who took 1 look under the hood and nodded in a reassuring way. My mind went to "how much will this cost" before he reached in and re-attached one of the spark plug cables. "Mate, you've been driving on 3 cylinders. You're all good to go now". What a legend, and it didn't cost us a penny.
After heading to Pie's house, Debs and I decided to head to Managamaunu for a surf. The offshore winds helped the clean 3-4ft swell peel perfectly down the right-hand point break. The energy was so different in comparision to New Brighton. We felt free and saw a huge pod of dolphins in the bay. The great day was complete with a wonderful meal cooked by Pie, then a peaceful sleep in a wonderful place.
The next day was spent relaxing, enjoying the positive energy and sunshine whilst catching up with family and friends. Over the next few hours, a lady called Marion Bergan, a member of Acupuncture Without Borders got in touch with Pie and pledged a donation of needles that was met by a lead supplier in the USA. This allowed for the creation of an Acupuncture Relief Centre at Pie and Birdi's house in Christchurch. Acupuncture Without Borders is now involved with the relief effort via their huge donation of supplies.
Yet another good night's sleep followed. The next day we headed back down to Christchurch after yet another perfect 3ft surf at Mangamaunu and a trip to the most expensive petrol station i've ever been to ($2.13 per litre).
I can't say I work, as I had hardly slept, but when my eyes opened, I felt strangely fine. The morning was glorious, sun shining and waves crashing on the shore. Debs and I had already decided to surf, so without further thought, put our wetsuits on and walked the hundred metres from our door to the beach. The city council were advising against using the ocean, however it still appeared clean and there was no raw sewage pumping out.
The sets came rolling in, 3-4ft, clean and glassy. The ocean had a sense of eeriness about it, as if surfing today was wrong. But in my mind, what else was there to do? One other guy was in the water and he said the same thing. Surfing felt so wrong that it was right. Debs and I were together, doing what we love, enjoying life as much as possible in a desimated city.
The waves were different. A lot of energy was there, but consistency lacked. The waves felt shakey, or maybe that was my legs, but either way, it took a while to settle.
Authors note: I've just read about Ken Ring and his theories on weather prediction. His idea regarding the alignment of the moon, saturn and jupiter during 14th - 25th Feb, may have played a significant part in the tidal movement and swell? Who knows, but I for one keep a very open mind.
After a great 2 hour session, I decided to venture towards the central business district (CBD) to see if I could get our car back. The roads were no longer roads. There was flooding, liquifaction and cars in potholes. Eventually I reached our car, only to find the battery was completely flat, so I continued cycling towards the CBD to try and get the bike i'd left at Debs college.
Imagine this: you cycle into your local town only to be stopped by the Army in tanks that you only see on television. Try and enter, and you will be arrested and thrown in jail.
I cycled around the edge of the security cordon to gauge how far it stretched. After seeing how much of the city it included, I knew there was no way I'd be getting my bike back anytime soon. I hope I can get it back at some stage in the future. I then headed home.
Nothing more could be done today with the car (his name is Buzz), so I headed home to be with Debs and assess the house.
Items that previously had value, now had no importance. The greatest realisation was the scale of the damage and the sheer power of mother earth. No matter how well you think you protect your possessions, you never own them - they will always belong to the earth.
The one item that remained completely untouched was Buddha. He sat there with a serene expression, as if he knew all along that he would protect us, a guardian to our home.
By this stage, we had no idea what was happening in the rest of the city. We had not been able to see the news or read about the current situation in the paper. We didn't know what we were meant to do, where to go for food or water and had no idea when power or water would be restored. Then our neighbours gave us a copy of the local paper, and thats when the devastation hit home.
Understanding the state of play helped us prioritise. We needed to see what was happening in the local community and get a grasp of how we could help.
Venturing into New Brighton was surreal. We went to the high street and saw Ben from Connect Café donating his food. Then after stocking up on croissants (my proud Jersey-French heritage coming to the fore), we walked past the petrol station to see the damage. It appeared ok, and the guys were open for soft drinks and chocolate, but as with a lot of buildings in Christchurch, the foundations needed checking.
After seeing more destruction in our local community than we were expecting, we headed home for the day, where I wrote Day 1's experiences out by hand, still fresh in my memory.
Throughout the day, the skies were full of helicopters and planes, reminiscent of a war-zone you'll see in hollywood films.That night, we slept better than previously, but the aftershocks continued to wake us, far more regularly than desired.
Tuesday 22nd started off similar to every other weekday. I was up early with the intention to surf, but for a reason I can't explain, decided against the 3ft offshore, glassy waves hitting New Brighton's shores. We then ended up running late, so Debs dropped me off in the city, an air of calm around. When I look back now, there was something not quite right about the way Tuesday was unfolding.
The day progressed as normal until lunchtime, where I decided to stay in the office rather than venture into the city centre. To give some background, we were located on the second story of an earthquake reinforced building 100m south of the now infamous CTV building. Then at 12.51pm it happened.
Starting with a small shake similar to the thousands of aftershocks from the September quake, the intensity of the 6.3 rapidly increased. Alongside the ferociousness of the movement, the noise became unbearable. The next 20-30 seconds was a blur. People in the office were thrown around the room like rag-dolls, finally managing to clamber towards the inside wall furthest away from the violently rattling windows. Computers went flying, glass windows and monitors were breaking, desks moved and the whole building shook violently in an unimaginable way. It became almost impossible to move to safety, the swaying of the building prevented any quick action.
Then reality set in. Get out while you still can. I ran to my desk, grabbed my backpack with my bike helmet and fled down the stairs. The dust from ceilings falling down made it hard and with the stairway actively moving away from the walls, no-one knew what was going to happen next.
That was the calm before the storm.
Everyone gathered in the streets, frantically trying to account for their friends and colleagues. Several people were not present as they were in the city having lunch. Then a cloud of dust like something out of a movie swept down the street towards us. Visibility reduced to nothing.
When the dust cleared, I looked around, found my colleagues and range those not present. Then a man comes running from around the corner. "Holy f***, s***, I was in the Sushi bar and the whole place came down. There's people still in there".
Someone had to take control - we moved everyone to safety away from high buildings and took check. Then a co-worker stumbles towards us with blood running down his face. He was severely concussed with no idea what had just happened. Luckily a nurse was close by and she took care of him. Then another colleague stumbles around the corner in tears, completely speechless. He then told me he was in Cashel Mall (one of the worst hit areas) when it struck. He just ran for cover. At this stage, everyone around me was a mess. It was complete devastation.
My thoughts then turned to Debs. She was on the other side of town. I rang her and got through. She was fine and we made the decision for me to cross the city by bike to meet her and make our way to safety. But first I had to get my bike from the ground floor of our building. Luckily there was an open garage where my bike was parked, but I still had to get in. It was one of the scariest things I've ever done.
And now the serious shit went down.
Christchurch City is built on a 1-way traffic system, but that didn't matter anymore. I cycled the wrong way up a 3 lane road in the middle lane against on-coming traffic to make sure I was as far away from falling debris as possible. Then I saw the first dead person, his dog sat next to him completely silent. 2 people were already attending and placed a jumper over him; I felt so sorry for him and his family. He had been bit by falling debris from a building.
Then it was onto Manchester Street; words can't begin to describe the utter carnage - buildings missing complete sections and rubble all over the street. Then all of a sudden, everyone stopped. A MASSIVE rumble I can only describe like thunder comes from nowhere. Then the screams - but it sounded like everyone was screaming with cushions over their mouths, muted; surreal. BANG - a building behind me collapsed and there was nothing I could do, so I continued my journey through the nightmare.
With only 1 road to go down, I raced against on-coming police cars, sirens blazing in a bid to get out of the city centre. Then I reached Colombo Street. If I thought Manchester Street was bad, I stood very much corrected.
I was stood in the middle of a crossroad where every corner was formerly a large building; now there were only bricks and rubble. There were people burried alive and men in work trucks were somehow there in the middle of it, moving bricks and hunting for those they could help. At this stage, my mind was solely focused on getting out of what I can only describe as a surreal mix of fear, adrenaline and a 'how did i not crap my pants' moment. I was focused on one thing and that was getting out of this 'warzone'.
Cycling through the broken streets full of rubble and mud, it felt like I was riding an off-road mountain bike track along the north coast of Jersey, but this was a city centre previously as flat as a pancake. I finally reached Debs and temporarily lost my composure. "The whole world's f*****", I scream. I had been bottling up my emotions from that 10 minute cycle and it all came out at once. Then Debs calmed me down and it was time to re-group and get everyone out of the city.
In the car park of Debs college, we allocated people to cars and any other vehicle available and began the grid-locked journey through the flooded, pit-holed roads. We filled our car with friends and headed east along Moorhouse avenue.
Authors note: our car has no radio, so we had no idea what was happening around us or if there were specific directions we should have been following.
As we moved at snails pace, a motorbike came up beside us, only to start sinking in a fresh hole created by fast liquifaction. I stopped the car, jumped out as quick as I could and tried to help push him out of the disaster. In the end, it took 5 grown men to pull a single motorbike out of the road.
Only then did it suddenly dawn on us to ring family. When we did get through, nobody had any idea there had been a major earthquake until we told them. Then in regular intervals, we were fed information via text or phone.
At the adrenaline rush subsided, the police started directing traffic out of the city, however we were re-routed OVER A BRIDGE! And as the traffic was backed up and we ended up sitting on the top of the bridge for at least 5 minutes when the massive 5.0 aftershock rolled through. Everyone in the car looked at each other, eyes glazed, hoping the bridge held true. I looked at people in the other cars around us and everyone had fear on their faces, no idea if we would be ok.
Luckily we got through and an opening that led off the bridge became available, so i floored the accelerator and got off the bridge as quick as possible. But we were no closer to safety, still stuck in the city. Eventually we found side streets that were empty, but only because of the state of the roads - massive holes and completely flooded; we had no idea if they were passable. We tried and succeeded.
Finally out of the central city, we reached Eastgate, a shopping centre to the east that was missing walls. Besides the massive damage, several smaller shops were completely flattened. My mind wondered if anyone was inside - even if they were, there was nothing we could do; buildings were too unsafe to go near and the sink holes in the roads were swallowing cars whole.
The traffic heading towards the beach was overly slow, so we got the city map out and plotted an alternative route and made the decision to detour. However, after navigating our way down several back streets, the state of the roads made it almost impossible to pass. Several cars were lop-sided, window deep in sink holes and with the flooding so bad, we headed back to the main road.
After getting back to the slow-moving road, we decided to abandon the car and walk the 5km home. 5 minutes into our walk, it became apparent we were going to have to do this walk bare foot due to the flooding and sink holes. The traffic at this stage was moving slower than we were walking.
Wading through thigh to waist deep mud and flood water became the norm. Roads that were previously open roads looked like lakes. Then we reached Bexley.
The intersection was more like a pond and as we waded through the thigh-deep water, we had no idea what was underfoot. Every step taken consciously and cautiously. We had no idea if we would fall into a sink hole or stand on shark metal or tarmac that had been ripped up.
We reached New Brighton bridge and as we walked over it, the cracks opened up and it became obvious it would very soon be impassable.
We were now nearly home after 4 hours (a journey that typically takes 30 minutes to cycle from home to city) and our thoughts turned to if the house was still standing. To our disbelief, on the outside it appeared untouched. When we tried to unlock the door, we soon realised there had been a major shift. The locks were jammed and we had to resort to jamming the doors open - it felt like we were breaking into our own home.
Then we saw the inside. Nothing was in its normal place apart from Buddha. He sat there un-phased and untouched whilst the television had gone over next to him. The kitchen, like a bomb site - no drawn untouched and smashed glass everywhere. The smell was bad, oil bottles broken with contents mixed together.
So we got to work on the immediate clean-up, with several big aftershocks making us jump as we went. After our house was back in order, our thoughts turned to surviving with no power or water for up-to a month. We still had no idea what was happening in the rest of the city.
My personal thoughts then turned to reducing the stress levels I had accumulated throughout the day. With a 3ft offshore swell still rolling into town, I decided to hit the surf before the beaches got closed by the council. It was vital at this stage to regain composure, and the ocean is the best way for a proud islander to clear the mind.
The first evening, both Debs and I hardly slept. Every aftershock making us jolt, any slight noise put us on edge.
The day was one never to be forgotten. Too many lives lost, too many tragedies and too many people affected. Who knows what will happen to the people and businesses of Christchurch in the coming months? All we do know is there is a great community around and some amazing people offering support and bucket loads of compassion flooding in from around the world.
My love and support goes out to everyone affected by this tragedy. My heart is open, wishing for all to be healed.
My only wish - to be home in Jersey, surfing with friends and family, being around loved ones.
Aotearoa, Kia piki te ora (New Zealand, get well soon)
