- As Cyclone Alfred approached Queensland, Nadine Wright felt safe enough to stay at home
- As the cyclone approached and weather heightened, Nadine sheltered in her bathroom
- A doona and mattress saved her life
Here Nadine tells her story in her own words
As rain lashed the windows of my second-storey apartment, my eyes were glued to my TV.
It was March 7, 2025, and for the past fortnight, I’d watched non-stop coverage of the weather report that said Cyclone Alfred – a category two storm – was headed my way.
I’d only purchased my one bedroom flat in Labrador, Queensland, six months earlier, after parting ways with my partner and selling our home.
Located just one street back from Broadwater Beach, I loved falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the waves.
Now, though, as the storm inched closer, I could only hear the sound of the wind howling outside my home.
‘If it get’s any worse, come and shelter at my place.’
‘If it gets any worse, come and shelter at my place,’ my younger sister Janine, then 51, said over the phone.
She lived with her partner, Brendan, then 48, and son Harrison, 19, in the Gold Coast hinterland 20 minutes away.
Despite the worsening weather conditions, there’d been no evacuation warning for our area, so I assumed I was safe.
‘I’ll be okay,’ I told Janine, confidently.
Three days earlier I’d been sent home from the car dealership where I worked as a registration clerk, after the government closed all non-essential businesses for safety.
So I gathered survival needs including a torch, batteries, candles, canned food and bottled water, just in case.
But as wind speeds of 100km ripped through, by that Friday afternoon 230,000 homes had lost power.
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Peering out my window, I could see the normally flat waters of the beach stirring violently, and the palm trees that lined the boulevard were swaying furiously in the wind’s onslaught.
By 9.30pm, the wind had picked up further and was lashing the building.
The sound was so deafening I could feel the beat of my heart as it hammered in my chest.
Scared for my safety, I remembered hearing years earlier that, in the event of a cyclone, to pick a room away from external walls to shelter in.
Survival instincts kicking in, I grabbed the doona and camping mattress off the spare bed, and racing to the bathroom, I lay down on the tiles along with a pillow, phone, torch and bottle of water.
‘I’m a goner.’
Resting the mattress and bedding on top of me, I tried to calm my racing thoughts, as I listened to the wind whipping against the building.
Suddenly, a deafening bang filled the room, as the roof of my home was ripped clean off like a tin can!
The strike had also taken out the power.
Seconds later, the ceiling imploded, sending large pieces of gyprock and debris crashing down on top of me.
I’m a goner, I thought, as my life flashed before my eyes
Trapped in the bathroom, I inched the mattress back to get a glimpse of the destruction.
I could see the dark grey storm clouds through the hole where my roof used to be.
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Petrified I’d be sucked out, I stayed put, hoping for a miracle.
Moments later my prayers were answered when I heard my front door being busted in.
‘Where are you?’ I heard a man’s voice call out.
It was the police.
‘I’m in here,’ I screamed.
Seconds later, a police officer was lifting the mattress while another scooped me into his arms.
‘Thank you for coming to my rescue.’
‘Let’s get you out of here,’ one of them said, after I confirmed no-one else was in my apartment.
Helping me down two flights of stairs, the officers raced me to Gold Coast University Hospital where a nurse tended to a graze on my left ankle.
Miraculously, I was otherwise unharmed.
‘Thank you for coming to my rescue,’ I said to the officers before they left.
After spending the night in hospital, I was picked up by my sister Janine, who took me back to her place.
Although she didn’t have power, her electric car ran everything – from the TV, stove top, microwave, kettle and lights to the hot water system.
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Watching news updates on the aftermath of the natural disaster, we were saddened to learn it’d claimed the life of one person and many others had been injured.
Returning home to my place the following weekend, I couldn’t believe the trail of destruction the cyclone had left.
Each room was so full of debris, it looked like a bomb had gone off!
Thankfully, Janine, Brendan and Harrison helped me gather the few clothes and shoes that hadn’t been ruined.
And while my grandmother’s antique furniture had been destroyed, I was so grateful that my glory box of family heirlooms, photographs and keepsakes had survived.
A week later, my insurance company put me up in a hotel, before I moved to a rental apartment that I’m still living in today.
Rallying around me, my local swim club pooled their funds and gifted me a six-month membership, family and friends donated household items to replace the ones I’d lost, and my lovely niece Brooke, 23, started a GoFundMe page which family, friends and kind strangers have donated to.
I’m so grateful for their generosity.
A year on, I’m no closer to returning to my home, but I know how lucky I am to have survived.
To support Nadine in rebuilding her life search ‘Nadine with post Alfred support’ at GoFundMe.
