Heavenly Beverley : The Great Storm of Heavenly Beverley

The day had begun like all the other days, hot and humid with northeastly winds coming from the desert. We’d had thunderstorms before, so we figured that was becoming a routine weather pattern for the time being.

My old friend, Janet, had driven from Northam to drop in on us. The house was tidy and the clothesline was full of clean clothes. We expected the washing to dry almost immediately, such was the heat. We’d heard the forecast and all eyes were on a cyclone moving down the coast toward Perth. Maybe we’d get some relief from that system if it turned inland.

We spent a very pleasant few hours showing Janet around Heavenly Beverley and the House that Rocks. We were certain that a thunderstorm would follow that evening as the day had become intensely oppressive. As it was only mid afternoon when she left, we were confident Janet would be home before the cloudburst.

Soon afterward, Michael’s brother rang us from Toodyay, a hundred kilometres away. The town had just been hit by a dust storm, followed by heavy rain. The temperature had dropped dramatically and the storm was heading our way. We weren't worried and were looking forward to some relief that night.

Then the power went out. Eyeing the dry washing, Michael suggested I take the clothes inside before the rain started. He was busy moving gear undercover into the new shed, just in case we had squally wind.

We weren't hurrying. The dogs were pottering outside with us whilst I was folding the washing to fit in the basket. I glanced between the shed and the house and stopped in disbelief.

A monstrous wall of red was bearing down on us from the North. I quickly hurled all the washing into the house and flew back outside to help Michael. We were still securing items when the storm was upon us.

There was no time to reach the shelter of the house. We chucked all three dogs into the shed and shut the door on them. The cat had taken to sleeping in the shed during the day, so we hoped she was already in there as well. Luckily, the shed verandah offered us some protection as the storm was approaching from the other direction.

Huddling together, we watched the fury engulf us. The noise of the dust storm was deafening. We were covered in red dirt, in spite of being on the lee side. At one stage, the wind briefly lessened and Michael stuck his head out for a quick look. He was immediately sandblasted by a fresh coat of airborne particles.

The storm continued, with a deluge of rain behind the dust. The wind mounted in strength once more. We watched trees being torn out of the ground and debris flying around us. The sun blinds on the western windows were frantically flapping and snapping up and down. I was worried they might rip off the side of the house, taking a large chunk of window frame and wall as well. Thankfully, the blinds held.

We could see the roof of the original shed rippling with the force of the wind, but at least it didn't come off. The storm was as terrifying as any I’d ever seen. We estimated the wind at well over a hundred kilometres an hour.

Finally we made a dash for the house with the dogs. The cat would have to wait to be rescued if she was in the shed. We looked out the front windows. Our garden windmill was spinning as though deranged. Michael was determined to save it before it disintegrated and turned into a lethal flying object.

He went outside to see to this task and move the cars out into the open. In hindsight, this was a good idea as the cars were parked under trees for shade and we’d already seen and heard trees being uprooted all around us.

After Michael parked the station wagon, he opened the boot for some rope. Another blast of heavy rain hit him. He was immediately drenched. He persevered and managed to halt the windmill’s attempted launch into orbit.

Mission accomplished, he returned inside. We were both streaked with red dust and our clothes were filthy. We had grime in our eyes and ears and up our noses. As the weather was finally abating, we took long showers to sluice the dirt off our bodies. Then the comfort and joy of fresh, clean, non gritty clothes.

Sascha, the biggest of our dogs, had retreated to the safety of the linen cupboard, her eyes like saucers, panting like a steam train. Pip, her faithful Jack Russell companion, was with her. Ruby the Beagle emerged from under our bed. Ruby the cat was released from the confines of the shed before she cooked in the pressure cooker atmosphere.

The storm moved on. We later learned it had carved a trail of destruction from Geraldton eastwards and then turned and traveled into the Wheatbelt, before eventually petering out a couple of hundred kilometres further south near Narrogin.

Overall, we came through the storm relatively unscathed. We had lost two mature trees. The old shed's steel girders had to be reworked after being bent inwards by the force of the wind. Insurance paid for reinforcement of the shed's roof, replacement of all the hardiboard sheets down the side of the house and a new watertank.

The locals called it the storm of the century. We were very amused by the timing. We'd only been in the house for three weeks before the storm had hit. Come to Heavenly Beverley and be blown away!