Wednesday 8 January 2020

When fire goes bad, and why it doesn't have to be that bad

Here at last is that Opinion article by Maurice Prendergast. 

I hope the ODT don't throw a hissy about the whole article being copied to this blog. I couldn't find any parts to cut out, and anyway it is such important knowledge that it needs to be available in many places to remind people there was a time before smart-everything technology, a time when people had to be smart with their own brains, hands and memory of what worked ever since way back when.




Fire-prone circumstances created decades ago


Forestry worker and firefighter Thijs Aisi turns over smouldering ground on the Te Papanui conservation park fire last month. Photo: Stephen Jaquiery
Forestry worker and firefighter Thijs Aisi turns over smouldering ground on the Te Papanui conservation park fire last month. Photo: Stephen Jaquiery
 
The recent vegetation fire which burnt 5000ha of land and threatened Dunedin’s water supply came as no surprise to some. Maurice Prendergast explains. The overwhelming temptation to declare ‘‘I told you so’’ I can no longer resist. The date of the occasion that I refer to has been clouded by the mists of time, but it was probably in the late ’90s when I, as an elected member of the Dunedin City Council, was confronted by the most manic proposal to prohibit the grazing of the city’s water catchment.
Why do I say manic? Because it was an exercise in idealism driven by misguided personnel who had never had to fight a mountain fire, or who had never witnessed the absolute desolation and the consequential loss by summer fire (forever) of precious water-capturing vegetation.
‘‘Embrace this puerile proposal and the city will one day have no water’’ was my plaintive plea in opposition to the proposal to buy the city’s water catchment, destock it, allow the consequential over-growth of the snow grasses to the (maybe) height of a man on a horse ... and with the litter thus generated to fuel it, there will be a holocaust of a magnitude that no man has ever before witnessed.
And if it’s a hot summer fire (I postulated) it will burn to the roots of the vegetation. And there will be no water in Dunedin; forever! Why did I consider myself fit to make such a prediction?
Though I am uneducated in an academic sense, I am a son of the soil. For 30 years I farmed the challenging and snow-clad heights of the Rock and Pillar Ranges.
Against the theoretically driven hysteria of the ‘‘green fraternity’’, we guarded against the risk of a devastating summer fire by having management spring fires, and against all academic advice, we’d burn on a windy day, when the root system of all vegetation still had wet feet and would thus be unchallenged.
The purpose of this practice was twofold. One was that a quick fire only took the top off the snow grass, and it was this ‘‘top’’ that (if left unchanged) would become the ‘‘floor litter’’ that would fuel a summer fire.
And secondly, with the green shoots of the regrowth and the absence of any litter on the floor, there was nothing to ignite or fuel a summer fire that would threaten the life of the vegetation so critical in its purpose to retain and slowly release precipitation of any form.
We (the guardians of the land) learned by example. And the most enduring example of ‘‘what not to do’’ was presented to us on a sunny face where an accidental summer fire had occurred the year before we purchased that land (1965).
In the following 30 years that we farmed that mountain, no plant life ever regenerated on the site of that fire. And why not, you may ask? A heavy fall of snow would have covered that face in the following winter, and when the spring thaw followed, rather than quietly moving away, and feeding the stream below (as it would have if there had been ‘‘rooted vegetation’’ to slow its movement) the snow instead would have avalanched.
And as it avalanched it would have stripped from its rocky bed the meagre and precious soil that had taken millions of years to establish and delivered it to the mountain stream below.
That precious soil is now somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. I have not needed a Harvard education to have understood all this, and this is the hands-on experience that I attempted to bring to that council meeting’s proposal so many years ago.
But though Dunedin is a huge rural local authority of 3600sq km, it is presided over by a majority of urban councillors who had never had dirt under their fingernails.
And decisions are made on the basis of numerical might, rather than any sense of reason. And that day the security of the city’s water supply was vandalised. That recent fire is just an appetiser; the main course is yet to come. It gets worse!
The city has a tiger by the tail in the presence of its doubtful neighbour, the Department of Conservation, who contemporaneously wrested a huge slab of tussock land from Rocklands Station. This land lies adjacent to the (now owned) city water catchment.
In my day, before we went on to the tussock land in the summer season, everybody was made to put their cigarettes and matches in a bucket (or such vessel), and everybody smoked! That was an unwritten law, and how seriously we respected that country.
Now that that country’s guardianship is in the hands of Doc. They seem not to have engaged in any form of environmental care and just to rub salt to the wound, I’m told that recreation on that land is encouraged.
Can one imagine what a spark from a 2-stroke motorcycle might do to the city’s water supply? Can we have any confidence that Doc, who operate under the banner of conservation, is anything other than the rogue neighbour that the city council and its water catchment does not need?
Maurice Prendergast is former Dunedin city councillor and deputy mayor.




Joshua Wright-Smith The CSIRO in 2009 predicted a 65% increase in fire activity throughout the southeastern parts of Australia in 2020.
Karen Whitty Joshua Wright-Smith of course... because they deliberately locked up the national parks, stopped all burns/ clean ups , halved park rangers nsw and effectively created the huge fuel load..... disgraceful

Fire and animals - what we need to learn asap

I've been delighted to read of creation of more sanctuary and protected areas, habitats of our odd-bod critters like geckos and bugs.   

https://www.stuff.co.nz/environment/118621961/rare-lizards-scupper-cardrona-skifields-chairlift-plans?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter 

All good - or is it? If DOC continues with its lock-it-up approach these areas will fill with dry material busting for a spark, whether from a careless human or uncaring lightning.

Australia is built for burning, it has vegetation "designed" for big burns and rapid recovery, seed germination. Stands to reason their critters are likewise adapted.  Ours aren't.


https://www.stuff.co.nz/world/australia/118650508/australian-bushfires-the-tricks-animals-are-using-to-survive


"Have you ever wondered how our native wildlife manage to stay alive when an inferno is ripping through their homes, and afterwards when there is little to eat and nowhere to hide? The answer is adaptation and old-fashioned ingenuity.

Australia’s bushfire season is far from over, and the cost to wildlife has been epic.
A sobering estimate has put the number of animals killed across Australia at 1 billion - and that’s a conservative figure.
But let’s look at some uplifting facts: how animals survive, and what challenges they overcome in the days and weeks after a fire..."  continued.....
 
Well worth reading. We need to understand this stuff, don't we?

From FOUR TIMES THE MADNESS - Australian firefighter's blog

FOUR TIMES THE MADNESS is the personal blog of an Australian firefighter, mother of 4 small children. If naughty words upset you you'd be best to avoid reading it. 

For everyone else the way she writes is so vivid the screen smells of Australian bush fire smoke, different from our local smoke. Go and read her on her Facebook page, "like" the page. The excerpts here are but a small selection, newest first.



Last night - Midnight. The 2 dogs are pacing the hallway - I know what this means. A storm is coming. I hope it brings rain, lots of fucking rain.
I can hear the heavy rumbles of the atmosphere in the distance. It brings an instinctive awareness of what’s about to materialise - and it does not arrive with a gentle sensitivity to my sleeping babes. This storm has something to say.
It’s like Mother Earth has woken up, and with forceful strength, she needs us to pay attention. ... continue reading    https://tinyurl.com/yfr32ec4


January 1, 2019
Feeling really uninspired today. I’m not hungover, I’ve not eaten so much festive food that I feel sluggish and fat. I’m not even frustrated with the heat - 40 degree celcius is I guess just a typical Australian summer.
I’m just really fucking tired. I’m tired of the fires. I’m tired of the smoke. I’m tired of the endless hours that so many of my friends, family and community are putting in to do their bit to contain the firegrounds. I’m tired of the political bullshit we are all constantly asked about, and I’m tired of having to be polite when I decline to answer my thoughts on the Prime Minister and his action from the last few weeks/months.....continue reading....https://tinyurl.com/yh8osur7

Ahhhhh - the fireground. Such a sparse and amazing area that we’ve been working on.
The fire that affected us here in the Blue Mountains, the Gospers Mountain Fire, has burnt in excess of 510,000 hectares. That’s only ONE fire - the country is burning with so many fires so far beyond this number. It’s freakin INSANITY.
This photo was taken yesterday, Saturday 4th January 2020.
We are somewhat clean, relaxed and happy, despite working in temps around 43 degrees celcius. It’s really hard to say that a fire of this magnitude has been ‘maintained’ - as it’s so widespread that their is still plenty of active fire all over the bloody place. But for now, our community is somewhat safe. We took some time to reflect and absorb our gorgeous surroundings.
Strategies, containment lines and a whole lot of fucking brutal physical work, by hundreds of Rural Fire Service personnel of all types, has started to make an impact on this bitch of a fire for our community. But others, are still taking a hammering all over Australia.
It’s bittersweet.
We spent the day to patrol in the trucks, back and forth like an iRoomba vacuum cleaner on crack hunting for a rogue toddler poo on the carpet. We were searching for hot spots and smoke columns in the dense bush lands. Our truck didn’t receive a lunch esky which are usually distributed at the beginning of each ‘shift’. But we didn’t mind. We are all required to be self sufficient anyway - food, water, snacks. Se we weren’t going to starve but the prospect of no meal was daunting for this hungry hippo of a woman.
The catering crews who feed the massive amounts of firefighters have been working harder than any other humans on earth - sometimes making what must feel like 12 million sandwich’s each day. They can probably make a salad faster than Edward Scissor Hands. Well if you ever got cranky at the catering crews for missing an esky, I’d suggest that you’d bumped your head and dropped your biscuits. Settle down mates, shut up and eat a muesli bar. Everyone was and still is flogging themselves to keep the logistics flowing. But on such a hot day, all I wanted was an iced bottle of water. First world problems, eh? I would be ok, I’m sure.
So this fella in the photo with me, is a good mate of mine. I can’t give you his real name, but I call him ‘Sausage Tits’. I’m not sure where the nickname originated, but like all Aussies, a nickname is imperative to survival in any friendship group. He’s originally from England, but I don’t hold that against him. He’s a top bloke, even if he talks a bit funny.
When this photo was taken, we were standing out on the end of a ridge line, on a sheer cliff face I’m sure was about 5 million metres high, with a fast, terrifying death waiting for you at the bottom. Have I mentioned I’m afraid of heights? So maybe that’s slightly exaggerated. But the view was absolutely breathtaking. We were balls deep in the land which we all respect and love so madly. It was one of the few highlights of this campaign that we’ve all poured our heart and soul into. And it’s so incredible to share such wonders with good mates.
We allowed ourselves to experience the emotion of a small victory during this fire season.
So after a shift on the hot trucks, drinking warm water and keeping each other sane with insults and stories from our lives, most probably extremely stretched of any form of truth, I arrived home for a quick shower, a change of clothes, and headed to work..... paid employment was awaiting.
Husband had taken #1 to a basketball in the city - it was his 13th birthday yesterday. And like many ‘real life moments’ during the fire season, we sometimes miss out. And that’s ok, because there’s still work to be done, crews to support, and a community to reach out too. And at 13 years old, as long as there’s food in the cupboard, wifi, and chances to fall in and out of sleep consciousness - I’m sure he can forgive me for not being home with the family.
And our firefighter minds now switch to other communities within Australia. Where can we go next? Who will we travel with, what work can we jump into to help the other fire affected communities interstate? Sausage Tits and I have already decided that when the time comes we are signing up together for deployment. He’s a good egg, even if he drinks tea on a 43 degree hot day and talks like a posh dickwad.


December 28, 2019:
.....Chicks in uniform are not princesses, and there is some seriously strong women in this establishment.
A while back, we’d been putting in a back burn behind properties. We worked hard, and the smoke was not always in our favour. My eyes were watering and stinging, my face was dirty - yet the tears from my watering eyes had cleaned vertical lines down both cheeks. My uniform stank, I had a rock in my boot, I was sweaty and probably smelt like a burning cow pat. When the fire was slowly burning back into the bush, with the hopes of meeting the main fire front, I sat on the dusty fire trail in the dirt and considered the situation. The fuel loading, the wind, looked at the time to acknowledge the upcoming weather changes. I checked my compass, and noted my crew mates around me. I curled my legs up under me, and tried to drink some water. Another fella walked by, and he asked if I was ok. “Mate - I could go a bourbon and a foot rub, but I’ve never been fucking better”. It feels good to do what you can out there on the land that we all love so much.
The bugs and spiders that move out of the fires path are interesting, to say the least. Spiders I can handle, beetles and stick insects always fascinate me. But the bush roaches? Nah. Keep those fellas away from me. They scurry around and run over your boots. Even though I cannot stand roaches you still try not to stand on them. You look like a kid trying to walk down the pavement, not wanting to stand on the cracks of the concrete path. They all serve a purpose. I don’t want to squish them, crunching them under foot doesn’t sound or feel so great.
A few local crews have come across 2 koalas - one just a small bloke, the other was a tired mum with her baby clinging to her back. It’s a bright spark of hope within the knowledge that so many animals and colonies have been completely decimated.
GOSPERS MOUNTAIN FIRE YOU ARE A BASTARD.
A local girl - well known for her passion for wildlife, has been working day and night with WIRES to try and collect any animals they find hurt or injured. Many can’t be saved, paws are burnt, possum tails are damaged, roo’s and wallabies tired and hurt. Smoke inhalation can get them too - It breaks my heart - not only for the people but also for the wildlife. It takes its toll on your emotions. Everyone has a battle right now. And the toll on everyone will last long after the green sprouts of fresh foliage begin to arise from the blackened earth. When will it just fucking STOP. It is an answer none of us have..... Four Times The Madness Dec 28, 2019