It is now three weeks after a devastating bushfire tore through my old home town Cobargo, part of a fire apocalypse that has razed an area of Australia about the size of England. Fires in various locations in Australia are still burning. The fire season is far from over. Used to be called summer. These fires have come off the back of the hottest decade on record on Earth and the second-hottest year ever recorded. In terms of scale and intensity, and duration and frequency, these fires are unprecedented and primarily caused by the insane heat and the relentless drought and the kiln-dry winds.
In the last three weeks I have read countless articles on climate change, on the politics of climate change, and on Australia’s do-nothing while pretending to do something government skirting the climate change emergency. And I have hoped. I have hoped not for a transformation in Australian politics since both major parties are actively pro-coal. But I’ve hoped that the fires would catalyse radical change elsewhere. That governments faced up to their responsibilities. That the citizenry of those countries became roused into action and demanded that those responsibilities will be met. That people everywhere re-assess, and particularly those with large footprints. (In order not to appear a hypocrite, I checked out my own footprint and breathed a sigh of relief when I found it only takes one planet to support me. Only. I could do better and will endeavour to do so. Meanwhile I will carry on with a clear enough conscience helping to raise awareness.)
I had to hope in this fashion. I had no choice. Despite the groundswell of aware and switched on people in Australia, despite an enormous number of folk doing something to make a difference, we are hampered by the great weight of retrograde action and policy from on high. The only way this country’s government will change its shameful attitude is if it is shamed into doing so by other nations.
Therefore, it was heartening to hear that Greta Thunberg has vied for dominance with Donald Trump at the World Economic Forum in Davos. That she has a new weapon in her armoury; she can refer to the Australian fires. That she is far from alone in being a young climate activist and many others are gaining attention and taking to the world stage. Young people have plenty of energy and plenty to fight for. I stand in solidarity.
I know Spain has been suffering from a climate changed reality too. They have endured vicious heat waves and droughts and wildfires and storms. But it was this photo that really got me.
Thanks to the Greta Thunbergs and the Spains of the world I can hope a little. I can hope that the hideous deaths by fire of my acquaintances in Cobargo and all those other human lives lost, that the destruction of homes and livelihoods, that the unconscionable annihilation of over a billion animals, that all that can mean something, can invoke change. Because if this apocalypse does not foster a massive scaling back on CO2 emissions, then nothing will, until the next apocalypse. By then, will it be too late?
Isobel Blackthorn is an award-winning author of unique and engaging fiction. She writes gripping mysteries, dark psychological thrillers and historical fiction. She is the author of The Unlikely Occultist: a biographical novel of Alice A. Bailey.
For the last ten days I have been thrust back into my old community of Cobargo after a devastating fire razed not only the town but the whole area.I wrote about it.Many friends have lost homes and farms. Many farmers have lost their herds. I have been told the area is scorched earth, like a massive bomb has gone off and flattened everything. Disaster aid is trickling in. People there are struggling and working hard to get themselves and the community back on its feet.
As Cobargo has been part of my personal history since the 1970s I could not stand by and watch. Neither could my daughter who went to school there. She wanted to do more to help. So I asked the community what they needed most right now and I was told fences. Farmers need fences. They need immediate help with basic infrastructure to help them and their animals.
We know lots of people all over the world are donating to the fire fighters and the Red Cross and we know there are lots of towns flattened. Our campaign focuses on one area, one group of people and their immediate needs.
For the last four days I have been gripped by emotions I can scarcely describe, struggling to take in the catastrophe as it plays out through the lives of my friends.
Catastrophic bushfires have been plaguing Australia since September, the result of three years of drought, extreme heat and very dry air and wind. You would need to have your head in a bucket not to have noticed. I have been stirred into climate action as a result. My mum mentioned a fire officer had said the whole of the Great Dividing Range could burn before we get any rain. I didn’t want to believe that but now I think it could be an accurate prediction. The stats keep coming out and the totals keep getting scaled up. We have certainly lost to fire land the size of West Virginia and I believe we will end up with cindered land the size of Scotland. Not to mention the lives of people, at least half a billion animals, and the thousands of homes lost. Our do-nothing, pro-coal, business-as-usual Prime Minister refused to meet with chief fire officers who were very keen to warn him of the looming catastrophe back in May. They could see what was coming. He didn’t want to hear it.
On Monday 30th December I was kept busy tracking the fires beginning to take hold in East Gippsland. I was taking a keen interest because I know that area well. I set one of my novels there. I used to travel through the area on my way from the Far South Coast of New South Wales to Melbourne. I was worried. I opened The Guardian live feed. Slowly, I grew alarmed. Chaos unfolded and I could see that Mallacoota was doomed.
As that reality sank in, a notification came through from the Rural Fire Service alerting of a fire that had taken hold up in Badja Road; that it was so intense it had created its own thunderstorm and had crossed the Tuross River and was heading east. I looked on Maps. I saw straight away that my old home town of Cobargo lay directly to the southeast.
It is an idyllic location –
The New Year’s Eve forecast was for strong northwesterly winds that would blow the fire straight for the town. It was a fair distance. Some twenty-five kilometres. So I thought maybe the RFS would take defensive action and things would be okay.
They couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. I woke up on New Year’s Day to find my friends had been alerted in the small hours to leave as the fire charged at them over the mountains and screamed through the valleys. Friends told to go to first one village, then another and then on to a town and then another. Hardly anywhere was safe.
I have owned four properties in the area and lived in another four. I sorted mail at the Cobargo post office. I worked in a gift shop. My children attended the local school. My nieces and nephews were born and grew up on a farm on the edge of the village. I wrote a memoir set in Cobargo, a memoir of building a sustainable lifestyle dream 2005-2009. It was a dream of survival in a post-climate changed reality in what I thought was a climate safe environment. First book I ever wrote. It is currently unpublished.
It is a surreal feeling to be so desperate for news of a place that was once your home, your entire life. All the while knowing how many people you knew or walked past every day are suffering. Are traumatised.
I started checking Facebook profiles to see what my friends were doing. If they were safe. One announced he was staying to defend. I kept going back to his post for updates. Then, the power and comms went out. No more news.
It was an anxious day of waiting, many hours of scrolling through posts and on live media newsfeeds for announcements. Slowly the news filtered through. I saw people I knew appearing on TV. Cobargo had lost a father and son. I knew the father. He was part of the show society committee when I was secretary. His son went to school with my daughters. Then I saw the footage of the main street. The post office survived. A large chunk of the historic village, many buildings over 120 years old, razed. Buildings housing gift shops and cafes. A large portion of what makes Cobargo quaint, what gives it its olde worlde charm, gone.
As that shock sank in, I learnt of friends who had lost their homes. Of others badly burned trying to save theirs. My stay and defend friend did manage to save his: I got the news via his daughter. Other houses in his vicinity are gone. People describe the smoke the heat the chaos the confusion the heroic moments. People describe houses exploding and animals incinerated and birds falling dead out of the sky.
So far, I only know the status of two places I lived. The home I built has survived. The farm next door where my parents lived for seven years has been razed. This photo, showing the current owner, features the bedroom where my mum slept – the wall behind the car.
The people of Cobargo are livid with the federal government and particularly the callous indifference of the Australian Prime Minister. As they should be.
And there is no comfort on the immediate horizon. My sister, who still lives in the region, is evacuating like many thousands of others. Even the outer limits of the towns are under threat. Everyone will have to huddle in the centre of towns with the fire approaching.
There are many towns under severe threat tomorrow, Saturday 4th January, in NSW. Humidity will be below 10%. Temps up to 48C. (118.4F) Wind speeds up to 80kmh. The southerly change is not due till Sunday and it will bring its own difficulties. Conditions in Victoria are no better. There are a lot of people in tiny towns trapped. There is no water down there. It is a humanitarian crisis. (watch the fire action here – https://hotspots.dea.ga.gov.au/)
Meanwhile, back in Victoria, the horror continues. People are trapped in tiny villages, completely cut off. In Mallacoota people are being evacuated on navy ships. To the north, mass evacuations are occurring. And the fires in the Snowy Mountains and slopes, the two fat blobs on the bottom left corner of the map above, they are joining up and when the cool change does sweep through on Sunday, they are heading straight for Canberra.
We need to face the horror of this and stamp it into our brains. These monster fires are capable of burning through the night traversing 24km in about 6 hours as though by stealth. These fires create firestorms that roar at you like a steam train, they hurl “embers” (read little fire bombs) many kilometres, they suck the oxygen out of the air, they create their own weather including lightning and tornadoes; these fires have been caused by climate change.
My heart goes out to everyone caught up in this devastation.
Isobel Blackthorn is an award-winning author of unique and engaging fiction. She writes gripping mysteries, dark psychological thrillers and historical fiction. She is the author of The Unlikely Occultist: a biographical novel of Alice A. Bailey. She has become a climate activist.
I have a lifelong passion for all the Arts, and especially visual art. I like to buy artworks when I can afford them, and I often include art and artists in my writing. So it was no stretch on my part to decide to run a series of artist spotlights. Here’s my first!
I’m delighted to welcome Gabrielle Powell onto my blog. Gabrielle lives on the far south coast of New South Wales, Australia. I’ve long been in admiration of her work and also her values and vision. I’ve often wondered what makes an artist tick, so I asked Gabrielle some questions.
What was the initial spark that turned you to pursue the creative arts? What drives you to keep going?
I grew up in a creative family where things were made all the time. It was a gift and skill to be able to make things with your hands. There didn’t seem another option For me but to follow the arts and go to art school and gain a degree in Visual Arts. Little did I know that I also had other skills! I guess with the arts – once an artist always an artist – sometimes I don’t make anything but there is always a pull back – a yearning to create. Making things is soothing, contemplative, resolving issues as you go and provides a unique space to just be you and zone out!
Do you have a preferred medium?
I have tried everything! Started with weaving and ceramics then leather work and printmaking, stained glass and drawing – I like variety!! Basket making and ceramics are favourites at the moment.
What are your main sources of inspiration?
I guess I have always had a love for indigenous arts and find their simple practice and skill inspiring. It all started when I was about 15 and a friend gave me a gourd from Africa – she was actually born in Malawi as I found out when I travelled there! I have pursued connections with indigenous people and their culture all my life as I find it very interesting and I want to know more.
I am also passionate about recycling others’ waste at the moment. Making up-cycled unique things. I’ve always loved second-hand things and going to the tip! So now I use waste to create things.
Do you have a purpose behind your creations?
Most of my work is for a purpose – my creations are useful. After spending 4 years at art school creating “art” pieces I just want my work to be useful and practical. I want my creations to be enjoyed and hopefully worn out! Most of my pieces are strong sturdy and built to last!!!
You’ve travelled a lot. How have your journeys affected your art?
Travel brings a whole new perspective to life so it also changes what and how you make things. I guess I bring home new techniques and ideas and from Africa colour! Everything I take in comes out in my work even if it’s not deliberate. I just made some colourful design plates which surprisingly had an African feel !
I know you went to Malawi in 2017. What drew you there and what did you take home with you at the end?
I wanted to try something different and get out of Bega. I found People of the Sun on line. They were taking on interns and I had long service leave so I jumped in and emailed them. They were keen to have me support the artisans and assist with quality control and packing working alongside the artisans and preparing a manual. I gained a lot on a personal level – new connections, new experiences, new ideas and the gift of colour in such a dry hard landscape was awesome. Prior to this I used a very limited colour palette.
Will you go back?
I would love to go back for sure. I have made connections there and it would be a different experience if was able to go back. I am open to any possibilities and have continued having conversations with the owner and manager.
What are you working on now?
I have just completed an exhibition at spiral gallery Fired+Wired with Daniel Lafferty. So back to making again. I am making some more design plates. I have booked in for a display at the Lazy Lizard Gallery, Cobargo, New South Wales, in April school holidays so some plates for that exhibition might be good.
What does the future hold? Any new projects in the pipeline?
I have quite a few open doors at the moment – not sure which direction I want to go.. I am currently working on an arts health project with south east arts. This is a very creative and inspiring 12 month position bringing art to health environments.
So I’m working until mid-year and then leaving things open to see where my path leads – believing things happen to me for a reason and a purpose. Looking forward to 2018 to see what unfolds. And of course always Saving for more travel!
Gabrielle, thanks so much for chatting!
The Far South Coast is lucky to have Gabrielle Powell living in their midst. But if you like her work, fear not, for she is also exceptionally good at wrapping her wares for posting!