‘I just drove into a small lake’: Sense of duty drives Civil Defence worker in cyclone response
As the flood water rose, and news of evacuations started coming in, Robert Johnson felt compelled to help.
Before long he was in his 2008 Mazda6, driving from his home in Napier South, crawling along Marine Parade towards the Group Emergency Coordination Centre in Hastings.
It was 5am last Tuesday morning. Cyclone Gabrielle had arrived, already leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The wind and rain lashed the metal of his vehicle. Branches and debris lay scattered. Visibility was poor.
It was a route the beehive press secretary turned Public Information Manager (PIM) for Hawke’s Bay Civil Defence Emergency Management (HBCDEM) had taken before. But this time, as he turned into State Highway 51, Awototo, Johnson was confronted by a “small lake”.
“And basically, I just drove into a small lake and within moments I’d lost traction and my vehicle was lifting. And yeah, I spent probably about five to 10 seconds going; ‘Oh, far out. Am I going to die? ‘Am I going to be able to open the door?’.”
“I realised pretty quickly that I had to get out of the vehicle and just opened the door and was in waist-high water. I didn't have the wherewithal to take my keys out, but I was like, "Well, I've got to leave the lights on so that at least others can see it."
Robert Johnson. Photo/Hawke's Bay App.
He waded out a few steps before realising he had left his phone in the car.
“I thought: ‘Well, that's going to cause a lot of issues if work can't get hold of me, and no one could get hold of me,’ so I went back, grabbed my phone, which was totally submerged and has survived, and scrambled up onto the rail line and just ran back towards Marine Parade'.”
In the distance, he could see the orange lights of a Regional Council works truck crawling towards him.
“I just flagged them down and they kindly let me into their vehicle where I text work and said, "Hey, look. Sorry, I've had to abandon my vehicle in flood water," and they arranged for a four-wheel drive to come and get me and take me home. And the whole time, to be honest, I felt pretty stupid.”
Johnson says it was “pretty scary”. “And in a very real and very upfront way, spelt out for me the significance of what was happening out there with the extreme weather.”
He says the Group Controller, who was on duty overnight, had said it was important to make sure it was safe to come into work before venturing out.
"He was very clear though that, if at any stage things are looking a little bit ropy out there, turn back and just look after yourself.
"But when I was aware though, that people were being evacuated and people were in really, really challenging and dangerous situations, to be honest, I actually became a little bit emotional. And all I wanted to do was, I felt in with my own sense of duty, I felt compelled to come in and help as much as I could."
By the time he got home, the State of Emergency declarations had been made.
“Just suddenly I probably got about 20 or 30 media queries in the space of 20 minutes, and it just was constant actually. And that point is when I took a bit of stock of what had just happened and it was a struggle not to feel a little bit overwhelmed at that point, to be honest.”
His troubles caught the attention of Prime Minister Chris Hipkins, whom he has known for many years as a former beehive press secretary.
“Sorry about your car, mate. We drove past it,” Johnson recalls Hipkins saying.
“And at that point, all I could do really was laugh. I thought, ‘well, that's a story for the grandkids’,” Johnson said. For him, he is one of the lucky ones.
Kate Hanson (left), Carla Crosbie, Troy Aitken, Georgia McCombe and Robert Johnson. Photo/Supplied.
Speaking to Hawke’s Bay App on his 13th consecutive day earlier this week, Johnson says he is humbled by the courage, mahi and determination that everyone has put into this response in their different ways.
“It's been incredible witnessing this response unfold from really, even before the event hit us to those initial hours and days and where we are now. It’s still quite hard to comprehend what's happened to the region and to families out there, communities out there. I'm sure when I actually do have those days off, it'll hit me.”
In his role, he manages a team, including surge staff from out of the region, and is in charge of getting communication out through a number of channels.
"In the initial stages, radio was a huge channel for us because obviously with the connectivity and power issues, that was the most resilient channel of getting information out. In an emergency, social media is where people tend to go first, and so even with the connectivity issues, that was still a really effective channel for us. And then also just traditional media and trying to manage the overwhelming volumes of evolving information, the evolving situation, huge volumes of media queries, briefing our spokespeople and briefing our controller."
Thankfully the his colleague lives round the corner from him and is picking him up and bringing him home.
“It's hard not to get home and go to bed and just spend three to four hours just spinning, and just thinking about what's happened, how to try and do things better the next day and all the massive list of tasks and jobs that need to be done.”
A big concern was getting his two-year-old son River’s $500 car seat, which he managed to last week.
“I made [my boss] stop the car so I could get out and get some photos for my insurance claim and get in there and try and get the car seat out. Got the car seat out, but yeah, I don't think it's probably fit for use anymore. It was a symbolic gesture for me.”
River hasn’t yet asked where “daddy’s car” is.
“I’ve got some old school CDs and a CD player in my car, and he likes to listen to Nirvana. He says: ‘Daddy, play. Daddy play your car songs’, and he likes to sing along to Nirvana Unplugged.”
