Residents and tourists in Australia have been left reeling as wildfires engulf parts of the country, killing at least 24 people and destroying an area larger than Denmark. We asked readers to describe how they have grappled with one of the worst fire seasons on record.
We heard from people who said they fled to the beach, where they dug trenches and prepared to jump into the water at a moment’s notice. Some said they sought refuge in camps where people brought dogs, chickens, goats and other animals. Others said they stayed behind, hosing down their homes in the hopes of saving their property from destruction.
We received more than a hundred responses from around the country. Many described struggling to breathe amid the choking smoke and being overcome with sadness and anger as they watched their communities and forests burn and pondered the toll it had on the country’s renowned wildlife.
These are their photos and stories, edited and condensed for clarity.
Escape under blood-red skies
Elizabeth Walton, Mystery Bay, New South Wales
We awoke Tuesday morning in Mystery Bay to black skies at dawn amid a pyrocumulus cloud that was, I am certain, as terrifying as hearing a bomb launching overhead. We grabbed the things we had packed the night before and left for the Narooma evacuation center.
The camp quickly filled with 4,000 people. They had dogs, chickens and even a goat. There were cats in cars. Ponies were being walked along the beach.
We spent Saturday preparing, as we were told to, to get ready to jump into the ocean. There were a hundred people on the beach who used tractors to dig trenches to jump into if the fires arrived.
Mary Frost, Darwin, Northern Territory
We survived New Year’s Eve in Mallacoota sitting in a small boat. There were four of us and my sister’s beautiful Dalmatian puppy, and we were scared for our lives.
The fire brought whipping winds, bursts of thunder, lightning strikes and, very briefly, rain. There was an eerie quiet, punctuated only by the anxiety-provoking but reassuring sound of sirens. There were gas blasts, houses toppling and trees crashing or exploding.
The fire produced deafening, apocalyptic roars that will stay with me forever.
Our hearts were racing. As oxygen levels dropped, there was a palpable fear that we were all going to be asphyxiated.
Lucy Knight, Gunning, New South Wales
I took shelter on Rosedale Beach with my three young children as the fire took hold. Our children rescued a kookaburra affected by smoke. Our family holiday house was spared but we are devastated by the damage to our beloved Rosedale.
When we lost power and mobile phone service, we headed to the beach. We had wool blankets with us and sat in the water.
Anne Fogarty, Melbourne, Victoria
We were camping on the southern coast of New South Wales when the fires hit. We evacuated to a center in Eden, eight kilometers (or five miles) from our campsite, throwing a few things in the car and leaving the tent and everything behind.
It was like a dystopian movie — cars lined up for fuel, shop shelves were emptied, there were electricity outages and no telecommunications.
After a sleepless night on the floor of the evacuation center we drove for 12 hours through thick smoke to Canberra with small grass fires still burning on the side of the road.
I had to buy an inhaler for the first time in 30 years.
They tried to protect their homes. They packed clothes, food and pets.
Jannah Hardefeldt, Cobargo, New South Wales
For some reason I felt a sense of urgency to make a bush fire survival plan for our family. I feel it may have saved our lives.
The air was thick with smoke and maybe that drove us to prepare the house. We went hard at it for about five hours, raking all the leaves and cleaning all the gutters. We cleared as much as we could, moved flammable things off the veranda and hosed down the yard.
On Monday night, the fire was 40 kilometers (25 miles) away and I was anxious. At around 1:30 a.m., we started making cups of tea and getting my grandmother and everyone else awake.
When we decided to leave, we spent five more minutes finding a basket to put the cat in. I saw fire rushing over the hill. We sprinted back to the house and everyone was ready.
Nadine Mannering, Melbourne
After two days without power, safe water, phone lines or the internet, and running low on food, we decided to try to get to my parents’ place in Canberra from Wallaga Lake.
We took water and some muesli bars, and we very, very luckily had a full tank of gas. Our neighbors could not leave as their car was on diesel and there was none in the area for them to fill up.
Allison Cameron, Berry, New South Wales
We have packed some precious sentimental items, important documents, food supplies, water and a first-aid kit — essentials to survive a few days out of home. Also, items for our pets, including food, medication, bedding and bowls.
Today we packed our car, expecting we might need to evacuate. We live in the Shoalhaven region and the fires are now quite close to us. We have been living with apocalyptic skies and air full of smoke and intense heat.
What they lost: farms, homes, beloved wildlife
Karin Neate, Fishermans Paradise, New South Wales
I lost my tiny home and months of income.
It took a full day to evacuate with my friend’s 3-year-old and two dogs. I left behind my friends who chose to fight the fires, with a 1-year-old, because there was no one else to protect their uninsured houses but them.
There is pure rage festering toward the federal government’s mismanagement and inhumane attitude.
Miranda Murray, Melbourne
My grandfather lost his farm on Kangaroo Island. He managed to shift his cattle to another part of the island two days beforehand so they were saved. That’s not the case with the animals on neighboring farms.
There were dead kangaroos, wallabies and koalas by the side of the roads. Why were the firefighters flown out so late?
Stephen Muse, Canberra, Australian Capital Territory
When the fire approached, we defended my mother’s house and protected neighboring properties as best we could before escaping at the last minute to the beach.
We watched as the fire roared down the coast and houses burned. My mother’s house was still standing but four homes on her street were gone. We had saved five houses.
Here and in other areas, the fire just went through and cleared everything in its way. It was like a rocket going through. I dropped my phone on the ground and didn’t even have time to pick it up before screaming at my family to get in the car.
Donna Novak, Orangeville, New South Wales
We live on 40 acres. Our house and sheds were saved but all of our bush burned.
My husband, 16-year-old son and our friends helped fight the fires on our property with the help of the fire service. It was very intense, chaotic and scary all at once.
The fire got so intense I was taken off the property to the top of the road only to find our RV and other vehicles parked in our neighbor’s paddock which was alight with a grass fire.
‘A ticking time bomb’: Living in fear
Nada Richards, Melbourne
I am devastated for my country, the tragedy of the loss of lives, homes, incomes, for the pain and suffering of millions of wildlife and livestock and the ecological destruction.
Yet our prime minister still persists in selling coal to India by opening up new mines, which require massive quantities of water, when farmers are shooting cattle in nearby drought-stricken areas.
I’m in despair at what we leave for future generations.
Helen McEwin, Adelaide Hills, South Australia
I live every day in fear, in fear of wildfires destroying everything around me, in fear of the most dangerous and ineffectual prime minister Australia has had since Federation.
My little granddaughter has been robbed of her childhood innocence. She cried after seeing homes burned to the ground in the Cudlee Creek fires.
This threat hangs over us constantly. We obsessively scan the weather forecasts to work out which fire will suddenly roar down on us, annihilating everything in its path.
Ananya Vatsayan, Sydney
I am a 16-year-old girl and as of right now, the world I’ve grown up with feels like, and is, a ticking time bomb.
We are a generation of hopeless, yet hopeful children. We will get through this. But not without losing a part of our childhoods in the process.
Fiona Crispin, Canberra
I look outside and its like the end of the world. Armageddon is here. I can’t remember the last time it rained. Everything is dead and dried up.
We miss the fresh air, watching the stars at night and hearing the magpies sing.
