- When Hannah woke up in the night to feed her newborn, the rain was torrential.
- In a matter of minutes, the water was gushing in through every part of their home.
- Stranded on their roof for seven hours, neighbours came to their rescue.
Here Hannah tells her story in her own words.
As I picked up my boys Arthur, then four, and Theodore, one, from day care, a post popped up on Facebook.
Cyclone Gabrielle is approaching. Prepare for strong winds and rainfall. There’s no need to evacuate at this time, it read.
It was February 2023, and together with my hubby Corbin, 33, we lived on a farm in Hastings, NZ, along with his family.
Our house was at the back of the property, while Corbin’s parents, Maggie, 66, and Garry, 72, and his brother Addison, 38, lived in another house 200 metres away.
‘Time for a feed.’
His other brother Courtney, 35, with his wife, Nikki, 33, and their kids, Noah, eight, and Makenna, four, were in a third house 800 metres from ours.
Back home, after moving our two cows, two goats, and eight sheep to higher ground, I hauled the outdoor furniture and toys into the garage.
By the time Corbin got home from work at 5.30pm, the rain was torrential.
After eating dinner, and checking online for any updates, we turned in early.
As rain lashed the windowpanes, I drifted off.
When I woke to Theodore’s cries at 3am, the downpour hadn’t eased.
Time for a feed, I thought, but when his night light didn’t work, I realised the power had gone out.
Checking on Arthur and our Staffy cross, Dime, who were sleeping in the next room, I discovered water was seeping in under the glass doors of the living room.
‘Please keep my kids safe.’
It wasn’t unusual for heavy rain to trickle inside, so I rolled up some towels to help mop up the water.
After breastfeeding Theodore, I noticed the water kept flooding in.
Panicking, I woke Corbin.
He peered through the windows with a torch. ‘The water is rising. It’s already ankle height,’ he said.
In a matter of minutes, it was gushing in through every part of our home.
We moved Arthur and Dime to our bedroom with Theodore.
Then trying to save what we could, we began moving furniture and toys onto tables and countertops.
I also grabbed the boys’ day care bags and filled them with supplies.
‘It shouldn’t rise much more. The worst of the rain is over.’
Within 40 minutes, the water was up to our knees.
Then Courtney and Nikki knocked on our bedroom window. ‘You need to get out now,’ they urged.
They’d taken their kids to Corbin’s parents’ place, before coming to help us.
By now the water was waist height and, unable to open the doors, we passed our kids through the window to Courtney and Nikki.
Then, plucking Dime from his bed, Corbin and I followed.
As we waded barefoot through the water, the current rushed past us with a brutal force.
‘Please keep my kids safe!’ I screamed to Courtney and Nikki, as we struggled through the water.
By the time we made it to my in-laws’ place, it was 4am and the water had risen to their back deck. Once we were inside, I called emergency.
‘If you feel like you’re in danger, climb onto your roof and a chopper will be there as soon as they can.’
‘It shouldn’t rise much more. The worst of the rain is over,’ the operator said.
Next I called my mum Jo, then 56, my nan, 72, and Arthur’s dad, to let them know we were safe.
Within 20 minutes, the water started gushing through the house.
Calling emergency again, we were desperate for help.
‘All our responders are facilitating rescues,’ they said. ‘If you feel like you’re in danger, climb onto your roof and a chopper will be there as soon as they can.’
Then we lost reception.
By now the water was waist high.
Leaning a ladder against the house, Maggie and Garry climbed onto the roof first, then we passed up the kids and pets.
Twenty minutes later, the water was lapping at the roof as we clung together.
If the rain doesn’t stop soon, we’re goners, I fretted.
Our house was now underwater, and we watched as our cars drifted away in the flood, heartbreakingly along with our sheep and goats.
Amazingly, our cows managed to swim out of the paddock.
Despite being cold and hungry, the kids passed the time by playing eye spy.
And Theodore was content with regular feeds.
Though we could hear helicopters in the distance, they never came our way.
Before we knew it, almost seven hours had passed and the rain had stopped.
Everything was in ruins, dead sheep lined the paddocks, and thick brown muck covered everything as far as the eye could see.
By midday the water had started to recede and our neighbour Greg and his niece Georgia, who had been unaffected by the floods, came to our rescue in utes and took us to Greg’s home.
While he and his wife Lorna had no running water or electricity, they had a generator, hot food and coffee.
‘I don’t know what we would have done without you,’ I said.
Once my phone charged, I rang our family to update them. ‘I thought you were dead!’ Mum said in sobs.
If Theodore hadn’t woken me during the night for a feed, we may well have been, I thought.
We bunkered down with Lorna and Greg for three days, before moving into a rental for four weeks.
Family, friends and locals dropped off care packages and meals.
Returning to inspect our home three weeks later, our hearts were completely shattered.
Everything was destroyed.
Thankfully, we were insured, so we were able to purchase another property in Central Hawke’s Bay.
Sadly, the cyclone left 10,000 displaced and claimed 11 lives.
Though we lost everything, we’re just thankful to have each other.
Our belongings can be replaced, but lives can’t.
