Christmas & devastating flood

Day: 222-227 Stage three / total expedition days 613-618

Sunrise:
05:22-05:25

Sunset:
18:54-18:56

Total kilometers:
6402 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
36° degrees, sun approx. 56°

Temperature - Night:
19.3° degrees

Latitude:
22°48'30.2"

Longitude:
147°39'08.3"

Clermont-Camp – 24.12.2002 – 29.12.2002

Tanja and I spend a wonderful Christmas with wonderful people. In the evening, we visit the church at around 33° C and in a thundery atmosphere. It’s a strange feeling for us, because here in Germany we are looking forward to a white and cold Christmas. Due to the many years of traveling, we are of course used to having a hot Christmas instead of a white one, but I must honestly admit that I like to be at home at this time to celebrate with our family.

During our relaxing stay, we eat fresh tropical fruit every morning. At lunchtime we enjoy delicious vegetable sandwiches and in the evening the tables are laden with delicious dishes.

Police officer Peter and his wife Denise, who is also the local reporter, are John and Zoe’s neighbors and friends. In addition to his profession, Peter is also a passionate cook. He prepares his specialties in the so-called camp ovens. Soon he is cooking or baking something delicious on the fire every evening. The Christmas party lasts for five days. Every evening we sit outside, drink, eat, laugh and watch the nearby lightning from the local thunderstorms. There is a lot of talk about the prolonged drought. Also about the fact that the few thunderstorms have by no means brought enough water to make the earth fertile.

Bob, Zoe’s brother, tells us about the terrible flood disaster that destroyed Clermont in 1916 and killed 65 people. “The Aborigines repeatedly warned the settlers of the time not to build the town in the valley under any circumstances. Nobody listened to them and the floods of 1870, 1893 and 1896 were not enough to warn people of a coming catastrophe. And then what no one thought possible happened. During a terrible rainstorm, the water from the Wolfang River met the water from Sandy Creek and formed a four-meter-high water roller that swept away absolutely everything in its path. Many unforgettable dramas took place. A piano still hangs in the crown of a tall tree as a memorial. It is a replica of the piano that actually hung over four meters high in a tree after the terrible natural disaster. Today, Clermont has been rebuilt on higher ground. A tragedy of this kind will never happen again,” Bob says, furrowing his brow. “That’s a terrible story. Well, I can only hope that we don’t get caught in such a catastrophic storm on our last 400 kilometers to Rockhampton,” I say as a shiver runs down my spine. “You shouldn’t stray too far from the asphalt roads at this time of year. But even these can of course be totally flooded. Apart from that, I don’t think we’ll get the rain of the century this year. You’d have to be very unlucky,” he says kindly.

Of course I use the Christmas season, especially the moments when Rufus is distracted by all the treats, to look for his secret diary. The last few times it really wasn’t easy to find his well-kept secret document. But who knows? Maybe he’s been a bit careless over the festive period and I can track it down quickly? As if I’m up to no good, I walk past him. He has his snout deep in his dog bowl, sucking up the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. I am always amazed at how greedily and quickly he chokes down these solid portions without simply bursting afterwards. I look around attentively, under the nearby bushes, the laundry basket and under the table. Sure, it would be too easy to spot it in such a simple hiding place. As this house also stands on posts, I take a look down, but Rufus rarely uses a hiding place twice. To be honest, I’m starting to get annoyed with him. His ingenuity in hiding this little book seems limitless. I search in the barbecue, in the garbage can, even in a paint pot, but I remain unsuccessful. “Where could he have put it?” I whisper thoughtfully. I sit down on the patio and let my eyes wander through the garden. I don’t have too much time left because he will soon have finished his bowl. “There it will be!” I shout cautiously so as not to arouse suspicion, jump up and look among the laundry hanging on the drying rack in the garden. I examine every item of clothing. As cunning as he is, he must have made it disappear in one of the trouser pockets. But again, no luck. I continue to search desperately. There are hardly any options left as my eyes graze the drainpipe of the gutter. Was there something white there? I quickly run to it, put my hand in the pipe and can hardly believe it when I feel the little book. “Rufus, Rufus, you’re getting more and more reckless,” I say with a grin, shaking my head and thinking about what would have happened if one of the thunderstorms had come over us today? I quickly open the book, which has been badly damaged in the meantime, and read…

THE EXPEDITION DIARY OF AN EXPEDITION DOG NAME RUFUS

My dear Swan, after all the upsetting experiences since we left Casiopia, I wasn’t so sure I would live to see this Christmas. When I think of how hot and dry it has been in the last few months, I have to be afraid of the nasty thunderstorms now. My humans are always talking about how the earth under my paws urgently needs water, but I would be very happy if the water only fell from the sky after us. My motto is, if it’s going to rain, then don’t let it rain on us.

Whoo-hoo! When I think of the last night of thunderstorms, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I had to adopt a new philosophy at short notice, otherwise I wouldn’t have drowned in water that might have risen too high, but also in my fear. Especially when I watched Denis. He wasn’t calm at all. I think he had his pants full. Of course, if he had worn any. However, I’m also glad that I didn’t have to help him when he left our fabric hut to close one of the windows. To be honest, I would have just turned a deaf ear. No six camels would have gotten me out of there.

In the short term, I asked myself what I should be more afraid of. From the thunderstorm or from the cars and trucks? The loud, smelly things thunder past us every day. My friend Hardie doesn’t like them either. Sometimes he simply jumps up or forwards. My God, I am glad to be such an excellent rider. I would now win any camel race in the world. I am quite sure of that. Me and Hardie would simply be unbeatable.

Despite all the excitement, we sometimes have a lot of fun at camp. Especially when I think of the glue story. I think the only one who couldn’t laugh when the glue bottle exploded was Denis. I poor little dog then got his anger. It was just barking when all the glue got caught in his beard. I don’t understand why people have to take the funniest events so seriously. Well, when I caught his gaze, I’d better get under the lounger.

Cars kept stopping on our way to Clermont. My humans were given mangoes and even two bottles of beer. Unfortunately, no one thought of me. I am also part of the adventure family and a bone would have been really good for me. However, many people admire our caravan. But they especially love the way I ride Hardie with my chest heaving. When they photograph me, I always try to cut a particularly good figure. Of course I wouldn’t tell anyone.

I am so glad that we were so warmly welcomed by the Wilkinson family and that we spent such a wonderful, happy Christmas. The treats that Zoe kept bringing me were unforgettably tasty. I would have loved to roll my whole body in it. Hmmm, sometimes I could dream about eating all the time.

It’s a good life as a Christmas dog…