It is 4pm and neighbours start making their way to the front lawn of the house at 61 Pakenham St, Echuca for their daily gathering.
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It was a tradition born during the COVID-19 pandemic, and it is one that has gained extra significance with the flood crisis threatening Echuca and Moama.
Chairs are set up in a circle, and an umbrella is brought out the front to provide some shade from the afternoon sun.
Those who have arrived come with their arms full. Either with extra chairs, Eskies full of drinks or bags loaded with snacks.
There is an impressive spread available – from chips to homemade sausage rolls and relish, from beer to bottles of sparkling.
As people take their seat, the drinks and food are cracked open and passed around. I am handed a beer in a stubby holder, it would be rude not to drink it.
The mood around the gathering is incredibly positive and upbeat.
Normally, that wouldn’t be surprising. After all, who doesn’t enjoy a drink and snacks as the sun sets on a beautiful, warm spring evening?
What makes the mood seem so surreal and even somewhat disconcerting is the elephant in the room, or rather, the elephant in the neighbourhood – the giant levee being built in Echuca.
The gathering is taking place on one side of the enormous wall of sand and dirt – the ‘wrong’ side of the wall. The side of the wall that is expected to soon be inundated by floodwaters from the rising Murray River.
The levee is being built to help protect homes in Echuca, but it won’t protect these homes. The wall runs along Pakenham St, Bowen St and down Goulburn Rd, but it won’t help everyone, with dozens of homes on the wrong side.
Most of the people at the gathering live on the side of Pakenham St that has been cut off from the rest of town by the levee.
The others live just on the other side of the new wall, but they have a close connection with their friends and neighbours just across the road.
Liz, 90, and Geoff, over 80, are coming to the gathering. They live on the protected side of Pakenham St.
The pair climb the ladder that has been set up to make it easier to get over the giant wall, which is easily over 1.5m tall. With him, Geoff brings a tray of homemade scones with jam and cream.
Neighbours help them down the other side of the levee bank, and everyone returns to the circle. The scones are a hot-ticket item, people snap them up and praise how good they taste.
People chat and bursts of laughter ring out as the sound of heavy machinery can be heard in the background – the sound of the heavy machinery building the levee that has already cut them off.
A mark on a nearby pole indicates the level the floodwaters are expected to reach. It’s shockingly high.
Most of the properties nearby are built above it, but not all. Nobody knows what is going to happen next, or what effect the new levee will have on water levels in the neighbourhood.
Dozens of homes are on this side of the levee, left to the fate of Mother Nature.
And for the residents who live there, the situation they now find themselves in is incredibly tough.
The gathering is in front of Marty and Julie Golledge’s house. Marty takes me inside and shows me some of the things they have done to get ready for the floodwaters that are on the way.
The couch has been lifted up onto the kitchen table, the chairs and other belongings stacked nearby on the kitchen counter. As many things that can be lifted, have been.
Tears, anger and frustration
Marty and Julie have lived in Echuca for more than 30 years, and at their home on Pakenham St for three years. Julie said it was hard to put their situation into words.
“I don’t know if you can describe it. It’s a waiting game and that’s the frustrating bit,” she said.
“Being stuck behind the wall is a bit surreal. It is not fair, but I understand that something had to be done. It is just unfortunate that is in the wrong spot for us.
“I just hope that moving forward they take the dirt and they make a levee bank behind us.”
Julie and other people from the neighbourhood were at an emergency meeting on Monday, and that was the first time they heard about the levee that would be built near their home.
“There was a group of us here from Pakenham St together at the meeting,” she said.
“I was teary … I had to leave because otherwise I’d show emotion in public that wasn’t appropriate. Two hours later you could see them starting.”
Marty said the decision to build levee, and in its current location, was a knee-jerk reaction, and an incredibly frustrating one.
“It is just wrong. I understand they had to build a levee, they had to do it quick because they mucked up and left it too late, but they didn’t even give us access over the levee,” he said.
“There is no plan, there is nothing. There are that many rumours. Nobody has any idea, they are making guesses.
“They aren’t protecting us. They have built a levee bank to protect everyone else, but they haven’t even allowed us to protect ourselves. We can’t get trailers in with sandbags, we can’t get cars in to take our personal belongings out.
“It is just dumb. They have locked us in, and we are the castaways. They have cut us off and given us nothing.
“They cut you off like that, and nothing. They build a wall and haven’t spoken to us since. There is no assistance this side.
“I understand that this had to happen. But I hope the council is smart enough know to put that out where it should be. They should have planned it and done it 20 years ago.”
Marty admitted that the levee and the flood situation had brought up some powerful emotions for him
“I feel devastated, mate,” he said. “I’m upset, angry scared – I really don’t know what is going to happen.
“I broke down the other morning, I just lost it. I went outside on my own and I just totally lost it.
“I haven’t cried in 40 years, and I just couldn't stop. I walked down to the levee bank and though ‘I’m worthless, in their eyes I’m not worth saving’.”
“Thankfully, I snapped myself out of it and I have been mostly good ever since.”
Difficult to handle
Ash Campbell and Dean Moon also live on Pakenham St, on what will soon be the wet side of the wall. The situation has been tough for both of them.
For Ash, her parents live nearby – but on the other side of the levee.
“I think the waiting is the worst thing now, it is just going on and on and on,” Ash said.
“To have that [the wall] now shoved there and built right in our faces is a kick in the guts.
“There are a lot of people on the other side who aren’t happy about this either because they know how it impacts everyone here. My parents live on the right side of the levee bank.”
Dean is from Rochester and his family lives there, but flooding and road closures means he has been unable to get there to help. Now, he and Ash are facing their own flood crisis.
“It’s the unknown – we don’t know what is going to happen. It is draining,” he said.
“We thought it was going to peak today and it hasn’t, now we are getting told Friday or Saturday; it is just a long wait.
“The levee too little, too late, and we are just sacrificed here. It really needs to be done properly once and for all.”
Peter and Shelly Mitchell are at the gathering as well, and they too live on the wrong side of the levee.
They think their house is high enough to avoid the floodwaters, but nobody knows for sure.
“I’m anxious, I would say. I feel bad because we are prepared and we are just sitting here,” Shelly said.
“I feel like we are locked in, I find it really stressful.
“We expected a levee because there was one in 1993, but nothing like this. We didn’t know anything until the public meeting on Monday, and even then it still didn’t sink in. It sunk in when the trucks started.”
Peter said the levee and the whole situation was a tough pill to swallow.
“You can’t get out, we are locked in,” he said.
“We are stressed about what is going to happen and concerned about everyone else.
“I left the meeting on Monday and I was not happy. I have no choice, we weren’t consulted, it is going to happen.
“It is very frustrating. Just frustrating. We have done what we can do and it is just a waiting game now.
“I reckon we’ll be right, but some others won’t be. I was here in ’93 and what should have been done then is building a levee around the back here. Had that been done, we wouldn’t go through this angst now.”
At a community meeting on Wednesday, interim chief executive officer of Campaspe Shire Council Tim Tamlin said the levee was built where it was “because that was the best choice at the time”.
“That was a decision that was taken a number of days ago with the information that we had at hand. That came from the control centre that is looking after this incident,” he said.
A welcome escape
With the water flowing down the Murray River, it is a waiting game for Dean, Ash, Julie, Marty, Peter, Shelly and all those on the other side of the levee.
They have done what they can – sandbagged their homes, sealing vents and cracks, buying generators and lifting everything inside.
And amidst all that and the stress of waiting for what is to come, their daily 4pm gatherings provide a welcome escape from the craziness around them.
“It is a showing that you have everyone’s back and it also takes everyone’s mind away from what is about to happen,” Dean said.
“We can’t control what is going to happen but at least for a small moment you can just forget about it. We are in it together.”
“It’s a positive vibe for us because otherwise you would feel so alone,” Ash added.
Julie said despite the physical barrier that has literally left them separated from the rest of town, people from the community have still rallied to support them.
“Someone came over before the levee bank was closed and he said ‘do you want some sandbags, I’ll go and get some’ and he went off and brought them back. That was just beautiful,” she said.
Others had come by to offer to help place sandbags and lift heavy furniture up off the floor inside too.
Julie joked as she pointed out one other positive from the giant wall of dirt.
“At least the potholes are filled in by the levee bank now,” she said
Peter and Shelly said they were both glad to have the gathering taking place.
“It means we have support. It started in COVID, and it is a lovely escape,” Shelly said.
“It is a great little community, it really is something special,” Peter added.
Marty explained how the daily tradition started off during the COVID-19 lockdowns, adding that the gatherings will carry on for as long as possible
“We would sit on the opposite side of the roads in our driveways and we’d come out for a welfare check to say ‘hello, how’s it going’. It was a great way to check in with everyone,” he said.
“We’ll keep going until it is wet and we can’t do it.”