By 9am on Sunday 22nd January, the river at Goondiwindi measured 10.27 metres (33’7”) which was one inch above the record of 1890.

On Sunday morning, what a sight! Little boats and canoes were the only traffic down Herbert Street.

The water was about 100mm below the floor of our house. There was a swift current flowing in the driveway gate of our house and straight through the car garage and into the West where the land must have been low lying.

The water was full of all manner of critters - small snakes, centipedes, spiders and ants. Occasionally, a small dead animal floated past.

This was the most spectacular sight we had ever seen.

Grandpa waded out into the water to talk to other waders and various mariners.

His rollicking laughter echoed as Grandma’s body language displayed disapproval.

Naturally, we asked to ‘go outside’ and were met with a very firm “No”.

Fortunately, Grandpa wasn’t going to let us miss out on a wander in this wonderland. He sneaked us out the front door and we headed to Ferguson’s store across the road. In some places there were potholes washed in the ground underfoot and in other places little trails of bubbles rose from I don’t know where. We splashed away the more unpleasant creatures floating past and walked unsteadily with fascination at the ‘deeper’ patches.

Grandpa had grabbed his daughter’s straw school hat as he left but this came as no surprise to Mr. Ferguson in the store. He had seen Dudley do things like this before. Soon the store was full of laughter – there was always lots of laughter around Grandpa. We managed to get some bread and the important shopping – the ‘boiled lollies’.

As we headed back across the street, grandpa slipped and totally submerged in the flood water. The ladies straw hat and the bread floated. Grandpa arose from the water like a whale, roaring with laughter. My sister and I had never had so much fun!

Grace seemed less amused when we returned to the house. Dudley was scolded for taking us out but it wasn’t to be the last time. The flood water was probably not a good and safe place for children but it sure was something we have never forgotten.

The floodwaters gradually subsided and I can remember walking down the main street. Everything was covered with silt. I saw some men shoveling mud out of a cellar on the Marshall Street side of the Victoria Hotel. The cellar was covered by a large wooden hatch on the footpath. Clearly it was a setback for the town but it was a fascination to us.

My sister and I had returned to the farm “Coorangy” by the time the next flood arrived on the 7th February. The MacIntyre River reached 10.06 metres (33’) that day and was 10.18 metres (33’5”) on the 11th February. On the 20th February, it topped all of the 1956 levels with 10.26 metres (33’8”).

The town has never been flooded since 1956 because of the levee bank. Some of the more notable floods since 1956 have been 10.5 metres in 1976, 10.6 metres in 1996 and 10.48 metres in 1998. With the construction of banks everywhere in more recent years, it is hard to compare ‘apples with apples’. I think we can all agree though, that the MacIntyre is overdue for another good run through.

Continued from page 10.

Naturally, we asked to ‘go outside’ and were met with a very firm “No”.

Fortunately, Grandpa wasn’t going to let us miss out on a wander in this wonderland.

He sneaked us out the front door and we headed to Ferguson’s store across the road.

In some places there were potholes washed in the ground underfoot and in other places little trails of bubbles rose from I don’t know where.

We splashed away the more unpleasant creatures floating past and walked unsteadily with fascination at the ‘deeper’ patches.

Grandpa had grabbed his daughter’s straw school hat as he left but this came as no surprise to Mr. Ferguson in the store.

He had seen Dudley do things like this before. Soon the store was full of laughter – there was always lots of laughter around Grandpa.

We managed to get some bread and the important shopping – the ‘boiled lollies’.

As we headed back across the street, grandpa slipped and totally submerged in the flood water.

The ladies straw hat and the bread floated. Grandpa arose from the water like a whale, roaring with laughter.

My sister and I had never had so much fun!

Grace seemed less amused when we returned to the house. Dudley was scolded for taking us out but it wasn’t to be the last time.

The flood water was probably not a good and safe place for children but it sure was something we have never forgotten.

The floodwaters gradually subsided and I can remember walking down the main street.

Everything was covered with silt. I saw some men shoveling mud out of a cellar on the Marshall Street side of the Victoria Hotel.

The cellar was covered by a large wooden hatch on the footpath. Clearly it was a setback for the town but it was a fascination to us.

My sister and I had returned to the farm “Coorangy” by the time the next flood arrived on the 7th February.

The MacIntyre River reached 10.06 metres (33’) that day and was 10.18 metres (33’5”) on the 11th February.

On February 20, it topped all of the 1956 levels with 10.26 metres (33’8”).

The town has never been flooded since 1956 because of the levee bank.

Some of the more notable floods since 1956 have been 10.5 metres in 1976, 10.6 metres in 1996 and 10.48 metres in 1998.

With the construction of banks everywhere in more recent years, it is hard to compare ‘apples with apples’.

I think we can all agree though, that the MacIntyre is overdue for another good run through.