68 Australian Geographic
Even from 40km away the scale of
the unfolding catastrophe was writ
large across the western sky.
alerts, along with a steady stream of timely updates from
the field. Every day, new stories surfaced of lucky escapes
and grim losses, along with images from the fireground
of volunteer crews and farm units doing their utmost.
Through the last week of December the initial fires
continued to burn, though mostly within containment
l ines. Then on 30 December I wa s woken just before d aw n
by l ig ht n i ng. Once ag a i n, I took to the road to keep watch.
And many neighbours did the same, as I later learnt.
Thankfully, the storm swept south out to sea, but not
before it had sparked new fires on the island’s far western
f lanks, including two outbreaks deep within the remote
Ravine des Casoars section of Flinders Chase.
By 2 January these fires had roiled into dense bush to
the north and west, and the CFS shared grave concerns
about the volatile conditions to come. Our worst fears
were realised late next morning when the two Ravine
blazes merged. Driven by stiff north-easterly winds, themassive fire front pushed south into Flinders Chase. It
soon overwhelmed the park’s fire crews and charged
onwards to the coast at Remarkable Rocks.
I was working at Seal Bay Conservation Park that day.
Even from 40km away the scale of the unfolding catastro-
phe was writ large across the western sky. A pyrocumulus
cloud towered nearly 18km upwards. The smoke plume
stretched 70km out to sea. At 3pm we evacuated the park.
The sun was streaming into the bay where sea lion pups
splashed in the shallows. As I ushered the last visitors up