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CHRIS' PHOTO JOURNAL
Flood photojournals
- September 27th 10, Part 1
- September 27th 10, Part 2
- September 28th 10
- September 29th 10
- October 8th 10
- October 10th 10
- October 12th 10
Highway 20 floods
29th September, 2010
The food situation was getting critical, especially regarding the dogs. I was cooking up millet and oats for them, which they seemed to be enjoying, but I also was missing food: vegetables of course and things like sprouts, yoghurt and seaweeds. And the water, boiled to death to make it safe, tasted horrible.
A couple of days ago, I contacted the Anahim Lake RCMP and asked what provisions were in place for people short of food. "Do you know of anyone short of food, ma'am?" said the lady sergeant in a bored, officious voice. "Yes, me!" I replied. (I didn't say my dogs were worse off than I was but found out later they give the needs of animals as much priority as those of humans.)
I was told they could do one of two things. Make a grocery order from one of the stores which they would fly in by helicopter, or fly me out.
Getting groceries from the store was not really an option. Because of food sensitivities I cannot eat processed food of any sort - no cans, no packaged goods, no juices, nothing. Besides, there were virtually no vegetables and fruit left in the area, and there were many other shortages. There was a lot of food in my van but the boxes in the van had been packed for the flight out of Nuk Tessli when space was a priority, and odd things were stuffed all over the place. It would take a while to go through it. I also wanted my chainsaw and some paperwork, certain reference books, and would have to buy dogfood and so on. The sergeant informed me that I could have one flight only; they were not running a taxi service for people. Fair enough. So I planned to walk out. I figured the trip to beyond the first washout would take 3 - 4 hours. I found a driver who would pick me up. I got permission for him to go through the barrier at the Nimpo side (that required 3 phone calls: amazingly the phone kept going although apparently one of the poles had been washed loose at the base and was floating round and round, suspended by the phone line itself). I would get all my stuff together, spend the night at Anahim, and fly back the next day. On the morning of the 29th I presented this solution to the Sargeant. "But the helicopter will be available only today," she said. "It is leaving Bella Coola and going back to the Island. It is an RCMP helicopter. I am not authorized to commandeer any of the other helicopters that are flying back and forth." (There were a considerable number of them.) The chopper, I was informed, would be in as soon as the fog lifted.
I frantically tried to pursuade emergency services to see it my way, but they preferred to fly me out and pay for a cabin at a motel and give me a food allowance. "At least you'll be safe," said the woman at the other end of the phone in a soothing voice. Safety wasn't a problem. Only the enormous frustration of being unable to work on my place for this precious month. I have to leave for my book tour late October and if I cannot do certain jobs on the new house - such as haul firewood - I will not be able to move in for the winter. The fog cleared early at Ginty Creek but the next problem was that the dogs had to be crated. My dogs are very used to small planes and both are very blase about it, but crates are RCMP regulations. I had one: there was a search for another but then they decided there would be no room for two crates anyway - it was not a very big helicopter. It arrived, finally, at about 2.00pm.
Poor dogs: sitting here they are quite happy. They didn't know what they were in for.
It would be a ten-minute flight; the dogs are very good friends - I figured we could squash both of them in.
We lifted off. I could not believe it but the pilot started to fly well away from the road.
Was he so insensitive that he couldn't understand how desparate I was to see what was going on?
(He was not very friendly.)
I had to ask him to go over the road but by the time we could see it,
the bridge and my neighbour's house were behind us.
All I could see was the section I had walked past.
At the top of the picture is the first washout and closer is the long stretch of new river bed where the road used to be.
Here is a flashback of the first washout when we walked over it.
Where the people are standing is now all in the river.
A little further on the road is not exactly breeched, but obviously severely compromised.
About five minutes later we flew over Nimpo Lake
I am now ensconsed at the Waterfront Motel in a not-quite-waterfront cabin
- all very luxurious with lots of running hot water, a shower and propane heating.
The water is drinkable out of the tap, the fall colours are gorgeous.
There is hardly anyone about so it is nice and quiet and I can let the dogs run loose.
I get a food allowance of $22.50 a day at the store.
I get to visit with neighbours I rarely see.
It's all as frustrating as hell but if I have to be stranded I really could not be in a better place.
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