Nerrigundah is a small village on the Eurobodalla coast in New South Wales about six hours south of Sydney.  The name “Nerrigundah” is an aboriginal word which means “place of many berries” and up until recently was a tranquil refuge for its population of 25, nestled in a rural green valley surrounded by mountains and wildlife.  When mentioned to most Australians, no one has ever heard of it.

Margot and Richard Bruinsma have been living on this land for over 40 years.  Margot landscapes, farms, jars fruits, makes herbal remedies from essential oils for herself and her neighbors, and she even makes her own whiskey. 

She told me with a smile on her face that she had given birth to her second child, Danny, just up the hill with no one around but her husband Richard and their 2 year old daughter at the time. It took three days, a couple broken ribs, and every ounce of strength she had, but she pushed Danny right on out on her own.  If the animals do it without doctors – why couldn’t she?

 Margot Bruinsma is a force of nature.

She and Richard have spent the last 40 years pouring their heart and soul into this property deep in the Nerrigundah woods, a place that I can’t help but describe as anything less than enchanting. Their back yard was once abuzz with citrus trees and juicy fruit, wild and overgrown blackberry bushes, and a large veggie patch to grow their own food and herbs.  At the front of their property was what looked like a strangely shaped long bush mixed with hanging vines and flowers. As it turns out, this was not just a bush– but a protected little structure for Margot’s apothecary and office.   It looked like a magical hobbit home. 

Margot and Richard live mostly off the grid without cell service and provide for themselves as much as possible from their own land.  Margot avoids the chaos of the city and prefers time spent checking on her chickens and veggie patch…as well as the enormous spotted python which has made her abundant garden its home.  

They live a quiet life, caring for their grandkids almost full time and their land, with a kindness, humility, and sense of humor that was refreshing.

On the eve of New Years 2020 amidst the Australian bushfire crisis which was tearing through New South Wales, a fast moving wildfire erupted in Nerrigundah, jumping over rivers and speeding down mountains at record speed.  Quickly shifting and unpredictable wind patterns left the majority of Nerrigundah residents scrambling for safety, trapped in the rural village without time to evacuate.  Had it not been for their small local firehouse which was equipped with a sprinkler system, where the town’s 12 remaining residents huddled for safety– half the town would have horrifically perished in this fire.

Margot and Richard, couldn’t fathom abandoning their beloved property… Margot said to me, “I would have rather died than watch this house go down in flames”. 

In an excerpt from an essay Richard composed after the fires, he describes their harrowing experience fighting this fire on their own:

Watching, Waiting. 

A spot fire begins on the steep hillside to the east and moves slowly downslope toward us widening as it comes. Fire now surrounds us pretty much on all sides. You can feel the heat projected through the windows from a couple of feet back, yet it has still not arrived.

Then within an instant it is upon us, leaping across the last 150 metres in a blink of an eye, barely scorching the paddock that occupies this space, leaping up the steep slope from the creek and swirling all around us, simultaneously igniting trees, bushes, bamboo clumps and the deck.”

Running back and forth with small buckets of water in hand, Margo and Richard tirelessly fought the fire ferociously attempting to devour their property.  After an unknown amount of time they finally collapsed in exhaustion as it seemed the imminent threat had passed. 

“After many hours of toil, in the complete darkness of mid afternoon, satisfied we had defused any lingering dangerous fires we laid our spent bodies down on the slate floor seeking rest and perhaps better air drawn through a damp cloth and began the wait...... for the light, for the new year, for news of others.

There was no light, no electricity, no phone, no radio, no way out to the normal world, but it was over. The fiery night of hell was done. 

Soon other vehicles called in to see how we’d fared, and that fuzzy unnamed feeing of an ordeal shared began to weave its nurturing healing magic. A solace of sharing. Seeds of recovery… 

The losses were large and tragic. We lost the church, the cottage further down the farm, all our sheds and a lifetime collection of tools. A lot of stuff in the shipping container melted, both my music keyboards and the thing that almost had me emotionally undone was the sad sagging melted shape of the Alesis Nitro Electronic drum kit I had just bought for my grandson Alec.

I don’t know what will recover in the gardens we have spent four decades nurturing, but we still have our house. Many have lost so much more. Some have lost everything. Some their lives. Some we know. I feel such devastation for those that walk away with nothing. But amongst all that tragedy that is still so fresh, you can detect a hint of hope, of moving on. Sure there is sadness and a sense of loss, but in the spirit of ordeal there is something, I don’t know what, a shared something that bolsters the soul. Being in community helps.”

This well loved land, cared for over 40 long years, in a matter of minutes…mostly decimated.  

My visit to Margo and Richard’s place came almost two months after the fire.  While they were doing their best to move forward and begin to rebuild, it was clear these fires had taken an enormous toll on not only their property but also their spirits.

It wasn’t until the smoke had cleared…both literally, and figuratively, that they were able to take inventory of all that had been lost. 

While they were able to save the small main house on their property, all the other structures on their land were destroyed, including Margo’s apothecary and office, their back house which housed all their sentimental belongings and the fire had also ripped through their gardens burning many of their plants, trees and chickens. It also destroyed their two other rental properties in Nerrigundah which were their primary source of income. 

When they reached out to their insurance they were instructed to list all the contents which had burnt and figure out the replacement cost.  This was an excruciating process as they had to carefully go through the ruins and then put price tags on things. A lot was lost in the fire, including Margot’s entire apothecary and collection of oils, her grandmother’s handmade quilt which was to go to her granddaughter when she turned 21, her grandfather’s handmade silky oak table…their beloved chickens, 6 of 8 who died, and much of their garden amongst an endless list of other items.

How does one list out the contents of a lifetime and put price tags on belongings which were also priceless? 

Thus far, they have not yet received any support from their insurance nor the government. Although much of their property burnt, because they were able to save what is considered the main structure on their property, external organizations have not seen them as a priority to help. 

In the wake of this disaster, most of the older Nerrigundah residents have been relocated to emergency housing and Margo and Richard are some of the only original landowners still on this piece of land.  Some will attempt to rebuild and some may never return.  The town has been ripped apart by this fire.  It’s serene, beautiful surroundings now a scorched and desolate landscape as far as the eye can see.  

Nerrigundah is amongst a handful of rural farming villages that were destroyed by the recent fires in New South Wales and are, to a certain degree still awaiting help from emergency aid organizations. Seven weeks after the fires and Margo and Richard only just got their electricity restored. They were living without easy access to potable water, sanitation, internet, and electricity for almost two months.

Margo and Richard are smart, resourceful, kind and generous people.  They will get back on their feet again.  But it won’t be easy and the process will be long.  

In an effort to help in some small way, I have begun a fundraiser to help restore part of their garden and also replenish Margot’s apothecary, and perhaps raise enough to also replace Richard’s keyboard.  If you feel inclined to donate directly to a family in Australia recovering from these fires, the link can be found here:

https://www.facebook.com/donate/213970456657671/ 

Every $1 makes a difference.