First of all well done to all the Dick Vet final years who just found out they've passed their exams. Welcome to the profession & good luck in the future. Now go get drunk & be lazy.
Look at our wonderful students, now back to me.
The Southern Hemisphere's getting quite hot now. At Christmas time I did personally miss the cold, rain, and snow that are so traditional to me. Whilst the heat was getting to a temperature I am not accustomed to, New Zealand was adorning itself with banners of snowmen, candles, and holly. Only the giant Santa dressed in swim suit and carrying a surf board seemed to fit the festival to the season.
Thankfully I was joined by Emma Stuart for Christmas, so we could both complain and reminisce about "proper" Christmas together. We were invited to the house of my new flatmate, who's family own a local dairy herd of Jerseys, and spent the day eating salads by the Victorian era wooden house, surrounded by picturesque gardens.
Since then Emma has returned to the South Island. The weather has steadily become hotter, whilst I have seen reports of floods and snow storms back home. The grass here has begun to die, leaving a brown scrub in areas without irrigation. Some farms have begun supplementing their stock with hay cut in the spring. Everything's so very cheerful and then... time for Wild Fires!
Yesterday afternoon I was called out to see a heifer that had a lump under its jaw the day before, and now was being lethargic. As is the way sometimes, this hadn't been noticed until they were clearing the paddock of heifers, moving them to a place with more grass.
The paddock was down a long road running south of Bulls. It was another blisteringly hot day as I drove along the only tarmacked road that allows access to the of Scotts Ferry and the areas farms. As I passed the 11km mark down the road I suddenly noticed a small flame by the road side, beneath a wooden electricity pole. An unusual place to burn waste, especially when there was no one to attend it... oh.
I used the in-car radio to tell the practice to call the fire brigade. As they did so I stopped the car and turned round to check if anyone was nearby. In this time the fire had grown, enveloping the base of the pole, and threatening to be driven to to pine forest that grew near the roadside, as well as into the adjacent fields. A call came through on the radio: The fire brigade were informed and were on their way. I moved on to see my patient.
Out in a dry, scrubby field, surrounded by pine forest, we did what we could for her, the farm workers and I. Other farm staff were racing up and down the road, fetching the water pump and hoses to lend the fire brigade a hand. As it was, it was too late to treat the heifer. Maybe a day earlier we might have been able to save her. I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. As the farm owner drove up to talk to me she kicked her last. Apparently this has happened before to one of the senior vets, and the farm does have over a thousand cattle, so I wasn't to worry. One still feels miffed, however, to have a patient die just as you think you might have worked out how to help her. But for now, there were bigger issues. The fire had spread into the paddocks and forest, and the road back to Bulls was closed. And across the river from us we could see a different large plume of smoke growing.
Thankfully farmers can be very helpful. This farm had got its staff organised and was transporting their water pump to the scene and staff moved in to help as necessary. They also opened up one of their back roads, which I was able to follow, going through the forest, around the blaze, out north, back to the practice. As much as I'd loved to have helped with the fire, it sounded like they had a plan that I would only hinder.
On the way back I passed a fire engine from the local town of Marton travelling towards the fire. The Bulls fire station had been emptied of service vehicles. As the afternoon wore on a number of fire engines raced through Bulls, past the practice.
Today it seems "my"fire was quickly controlled and extinguished before doing too much damage, thanks to bother the Bulls & Marton fire brigades, and the local farmers. However, the smoke we had seen across the river from where we'd tried to save the heifer had become more serious. Many local fire brigades, including those from Bulls & Marton had had to go to a fire near the village of Bainesse. Here 100 acres of farm land were enveloped by the flames, as fire services, helped by helicopters, attempted to save people's homes. This morning it seems they have been successful.
These events are been repeated in various areas of New Zealand at present. The fire brigades here are mostly staffed by volunteers who are constantly on call, in a similar structure to the UK's RNLI. This is a difficult time for them, having to down their normal work to go do the dangerous job of fire fighting, potentially for days at a time, during this dry time of year.
This is so very different from this time of year in the UK, yet so similar. Whilst here the emergency services and farmers fight fires, at home there are floods and snow drifts that threaten property, and sometimes lives. National governments can help to organise and equip the people, help to reduce the likelihood of these events and decrease the severity of there outcomes. Yet there's nothing quite like locals, first on the scene, helping save their own land and their neighbours.
An Englishman in N'Zealan
No comments:
Post a Comment