|
September 11 2007 - Letter To Felix No.3
|
My precious girl, So much has happened Flexi, I have no idea where to start. I'm sitting under the tree outside my cottage, a slight breeze causes my wind chimes to chuckle constantly, the leaves cast shadows, and in the spaces between, light from the sun dapples the aeons old rocks that form a semi-circle in front of me. The day is very warm, but I am blessed by the breeze that is a constant presence by my cottage. A bee buzzes lazily overhead, and I can raise my eyes and look at my cottage and luxuriate in the space around me. Except for my beloved Candy, I am completely alone, and it's bliss. The very worst thing that could happen to us, happened around 1pm last Monday, just over a week ago. A bush fire on our property. I was in 'Disneyland' - the name of the outside enclosure for the babies - when it started. I was alone, and for some time had no clear idea of what was actually happening. I could see smoke but it cleared, so I assumed that the worst was over. Then a voice shouted to me from sick bay: someone was ill, could I help? This meant leaving 15 babies on their own which I was reluctant to do as they had already realised that something was very wrong and were stressing, but as I could see them from sick bay I went over to assist Jodie. She was having a panic attack; I managed to calm her down, and we both rushed back to the babies who were also seriously stressed by this time. As we went into the enclosure 15 monkeys thudded into us and clung on for dear life. At that moment we saw flames coming towards us; we had no option but to leave. We went as fast as we could to tent village, the babies chattering and terrified and clinging on for grim death. As we reached tent village kitchen and looked back and saw thick smoke and licks of fire heading in our direction we knew that we had cut off any way of further escape - there being only one entrance/exit to tent village - and I have to admit I felt very grateful to my 2 day deodorent for fully justifying all the claims on the bottle..... As we hung on to the babies, the cavalry homed into view - in the form of the small bukky driven by a volunteer - and all 17 of us piled into the - very small - interior and were driven at breakneck speed to the house, and told to remain in the bukky until further notice. It was very hot, the space was extremely small, and 15 babies pissed, puked and poo'd their little hearts out over Jodie and myself. As we looked at each other and saw our reflected states we both started to laugh for England. People came and thrust bottles of water through swiftly opened windows; windows that had to remain closed to prevent the babies from escaping. Finally, about 45 minutes later we were driven back to sick bay, the babies were put into the small enclosure and we all went to help with 'main feed'. We filled huge bowls with oranges and sucked on many ourselves. Juice ran from our greedy mouths creating runnels of dirt on bodies caked with debris from the fire. We then fed all the monkeys, went back to 'main feed' and opened bottles of cold beer from a crate someone had hiked down from the house. Make no mistake Flexi, those were the best two beers of my life! With everyone gathered together, we were able to piece together what had happened. It had started - unnoticed; the guys on fire watch were changing over and for some minutes no-one was watching for fires - on a neighbour's farm and the wind took hold of it and it quickly spread onto our land. Fortunately most of the vols were having lunch at the house so had immediate access to water and a 'phone to call the fire services. It was Lisa who had seen it as she left sick bay to go to lunch herself. It's very doubtful that it would have been discovered otherwise until it was too late, and as that doesn't bear thinking about we try very hard not too. As the fire had spread, vols had run around opening enclosure doors to free the monkeys; some of them very dangerous, but at least it gave them, like us, a fighting chance. Everyone had pulled together as a team magnificently, neighbours and the guys from 'Half Human' (bush pub, and how we all felt by then) arrived along with the fire trucks. We had some losses with the monkeys, although a lot of the escapees arrived back over the following few days, but Flexi, we were SO LUCKY not to have lost everything; it was that close. The next day everybody including the monkeys were very quiet There was an almost tangible stillness in the air as we surveyed the extent of the damage, saw acres of blackened bush, burnt out enclosures, smoke still drifting from piles of ash, the acrid scent of desolation strong in the atmosphere. All the long term volunteers have been heroic, working almost around the clock to care for the monkeys, heal the wounded and eventually get things back to 'normall. Lornie's tent was burnt down and she lost everything including many primate books - most of them out of print now - lovingly collected over the years, which was a hard blow, and she's been nothing but wonderful about it. We're all coping with lack of sleep, loss of appetite and very hot weather as best we can, and we're licking our wounds, counting our blessings. and imbibing a great deal of the grape..... Love you baby, x PS May I correct a sentence in my last blog? I wasn't contacted by the editor of the The Herald, but by an editor. My apologies to all concerned.
|
|
