When Judy Kitching opened the doors of the Machans Beach community hall, she never imagined it would become a makeshift evacuation centre for the flood-ravaged town. As she stood amidst the chaos, caring for 25 people on the first night and over 50 on the second, she realized that this little beachside town was in immediate need of help.
“I know you’re not supposed to have dogs in an evacuation centre, but this is Machans, what else are you supposed to do with your dogs?” Kitching said, her voice filled with empathy as she described the scene before her. Despite the mayhem, everyone had a bed, was fed, and was safe. She’s been so busy, she hasn’t even returned to her own destroyed home, which she’s lived in since 1979. When asked why she chose to help others despite her own losses, she reluctantly revealed the real answer. “Well, community. This community’s beautiful.”
The authorities took a day to reach the town, but by then, a spontaneous army of volunteers had already begun cleaning up. From cooking sausages to providing phone charging stations, the community rallied around each other. “Nobody needed to tell the residents of Machans Beach their neighbour needed help,” said Kitching. The community’s resilience was no surprise, but the speed and scale of their response was unprecedented.
Machans BeachAs the community hall became the central hub for relief efforts, Pauline Johnson’s house transformed into a recovery facility. With an upgraded internet connection, it became a crucial wifi hub, connecting people and coordinating relief efforts. Johnson, her partner Peter, and Helen Travers worked tirelessly to coordinate food deliveries, rehoming, and more. “The water came to the house two houses up,” Johnson said, recounting the day they decided to take action. “And I just said to Peter, we have been blessed. We need to get out and help the poor buggers down in Christensen Street.”
The duo’s efforts were met with an outpouring of support, with donations flooding in and volunteers arriving to help. “Honestly, it broke my heart,” Johnson said, her voice cracking. “But anyone that walks in, we just say, ‘How can we help?’ And somebody walks in and says, ‘Can I help?’, [we say] ‘Yep, talk to this lady and help fix that’.”
As the community continues to rebuild, many residents are rethinking their plans to leave. Despite the devastation, the spirit of camaraderie and mutual support has brought people closer together. For Eugene Orwell, whose single-storey home was destroyed, the decision to stay is now easier than ever. “For the last 30 years, we’re thinking about it, every wet season we are sitting on edge,” he said. “But it’s our home, and it’s just too beautiful to leave – if I can mitigate the risk next time.”