Disaster can strike in the same place twice
Ian and Judy Merson at their home in Puketapu, Hawkes Bay PHOTO: Bella Ireland
Fire, floods, and a story of survival.
By Bella Ireland
The heavy rain fell and the current tugged Ian back as he waded through chest-deep flood water, his energy fading with each step as he fell behind. In front of him, Amy called out. “We’re waiting for you.”
“I always remember them saying that,” he murmurs, cheeks flushed and eyes glazing over. This is Ian’s story of survival, the second time he and his wife lost everything and were left homeless. Ian and Judy Merson, Hawkes Bay locals, know too well, lightning can strike in the same place twice.
The first loss
Ian and Judy Merson's home in the rural community of Puketapu sat on a sprawling property, lush with gardens, fruit trees, and a nearby orchard. It was a purpose-built family home, filled with memories of raising their two children, then nurturing their grandchildren.
But on Christmas Day 2014, an electrical fault sparked a fire that left their home “black as hell”, as Ian puts it. They lost it all, including irreplaceable belongings and all their family photos. For Judy, the children’s Plunket box was the most heartbreaking loss, filled with toys to be passed down to their grandchildren. Despite the devastation, and then a major cardiac arrest for Ian in 2021, they rebuilt from the ground up.
“He’s lucky to be here,” says Judy, She tells Ian: “Now you know why you lived, because I wouldn’t have handled all this alone." For most, the fire would have been the worst event in a lifetime, but for the Mersons, there was only more to come.
Ian gazing at one of the few surviving orange trees in his garden, where floodwaters killed many others. PHOTO: Bella Ireland
The second loss
Cyclone Gabrielle hit Hawke's Bay hard on February 14, 2023, marking the most significant weather event New Zealand has seen this century. It is one of the region's darkest days, claiming the lives of 11 people. Many more lost their homes, their land, and their livelihoods, and in the days that followed, thousands were left without basic necessities. For a while, it was on every front page. But 18 months later it seems the rest of the country has forgotten. For those who live there, the memories of the day are vivid, and recovery is ongoing.
The evening before the cyclone, Judy received a late-night call – her daughter was going into labour. She needed Judy to take care of her two young boys. With the weather turning nasty, Judy decided it was best to leave Ian at home and drove to Pirimai to look after them. "I never, ever thought what happened would happen. I just thought it was going to be another heavy rainfall,” says Judy.
Ian woke to find a puddle on the lawn, unusual for their property. He opened the curtains and saw more water beside the nearby shed. Heading outside, he realised it was rising. "I thought, Christ, where is it all coming from?" In the distance, he saw water creeping over the nearby river stopbank. That was when his neighbour Bill called out, "Get out, it’s going to go."
By the time Ian made it back to the house, the lawn was submerged in murky water, which quickly consumed the deck and began seeping through the house doors. "I thought, oh Jesus, we need to get out of here.” Quickly packing a bag of essentials, he headed to the back of his property, where their tenants Amy and Amanda rented a flat from them. He first attempted to use his tractor but the water kept rising “really quickly, and it wouldn’t start.” Inside the flat, the girls had noticed the rising tide. “My work van started getting submerged, and our other car just lifted itself off and started floating into the orchard,” says Amanda.
Ian rushed to help them out of the flat, battling against the water. He tried to break through the wall between the shed and the flat. The girls managed to find an escape route, and through the now-window-height water. Ian could only let them in the shed one at a time, struggling against the strong current. He was worried they would get separated. “That was my worst fear,” Ian says, his voice cracking.
Despite the chaos, they all made it inside, along with their bags, cat, and guinea pigs too. “Once we got into the shed, we were dry. I don’t know if we should have bloody stayed there, who knows,” he laughs nervously. Planning to escape in his truck, they dismantled the shed’s electric door and pulled it up. “The minute we opened that, the water came in and knocked me off my feet,” he says. He scrambled across the eight-metre shed to the truck and got inside with the girls. “Once we were in the truck, I thought, ‘Ah, we’re sweet, we’re out of here!’” They backed out and drove about 10m down the drive when an enormous wave surged over the front of the truck, engulfing the windshield. “In that split second, you think, ‘Christ, we’re screwed here, we’re history’.”
“In that split second, you think, ‘Christ, we’re screwed here, we’re history,’” Ian says.
The wave pushed the truck back some distance, but as the water lowered a little they got out, grabbed their bags, and started on foot. Amanda remembers thinking it could all end badly because she couldn’t swim. “But it kind of just takes over, your fight to survive.”
Facing a daunting 250m trek to their neighbour's on higher ground, they began their journey through the debris and silt-laden water. “You could see the tarmac peeling off with the force of the water,” says Amanda. As Ian waded through the chest-deep water, he had a moment where he feared he wouldn’t make it. Reflecting with hindsight, though, Amanda says, “Ian’s pretty much family to us, you know . . . We were going to make it together.”
Meanwhile, Amy, Amanda’s wife, waited for Ian as he fell further behind, urging him to ditch his bags. "As long as you get out, that’s the most important thing," Amanda recalls her saying.
Ian, Amanda, and Amy wade through floodwaters toward the safety of the neighbour's property. PHOTO: Fiona Duley
They eventually reached the green hillside next to their neighbours Greg and Fiona Duley. Ian gazes out into the garden where it all took place. “The water dropped down again and we could just see the gateway and the grass,” he says.
Fiona noticed three figures wading up the drive, holding bags and cages above their heads. “We didn’t realise poor Ian was struggling with the girls out the back,” she says. They’d checked neighbouring properties when the water was lower. The three were exhausted and completely soaked. “It became a very emotional moment as they came in,” says Fiona. “We were just lucky we got out when we did,” Amanda says. Shortly after their escape, the deluge swept away the entire orchard. But once inside the Duley’s, Ian says, “We knew we were safe.”
“We knew we were safe.”
Around the same time Ian made his escape, Atea was born. A long-overdue birth, with complications, the timing seemed fateful because the storm meant the boys weren’t there. “They believe that he was born at that time for a reason – to save his little brothers,” Judy says. The name Atea, which in Māori mythology, is the giver of light, was fit for the circumstances.
With flaky cell-service and no electricity, Amanda managed to get word to Judy that they were safe, and relayed back to Ian that Sarah had delivered the baby. Judy says getting that text was an enormous relief. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known where he was, and then you would have started hearing stories of what was happening.”
Along with the other dozen-or-so neighbours who sought refuge there, they stood back and surveyed the damage that had been done to their properties and livelihoods. “I said to Greg, ‘Shit, your orchard’s gone,’ and he said, ‘That’s yours over there, it’s gone too!’” Seeing the extent of damage, Amanda says they felt for Ian. It was the second time he’d had to go through this.
Helicopters dropped in, but their help wasn’t needed – neighbours got resourceful together. They teamed up and cleaned up what silt they could, and started up generators. “We were fortunate we were with the right crew of capable people that just got on with it,” Ian says. As the water dropped, they made a quick return to their homes and grabbed what they couldn’t save in their freezers, cooking up woodfired wagyu steaks, and eating melting ice cream for dessert. “We ate like kings that night,” says Ian. “We could’ve hung out for weeks.” Isolated, and essentially on an island, they had no idea how others had been impacted, or the state of the land elsewhere.
A helicopter lands to offer aid to Ian and the neighbours. PHOTO: Ian Merson
Ian and Judy's property after the floodwaters struck. PHOTO: Ian Merson
On the other side of town, Judy had made her way to her twin sister Erin’s house earlier that morning, bringing the boys with her to higher ground for safety. The power was out, and with two young boys to keep occupied, Judy said they had to be creative. “We just told them Grandy was on an adventure,” she says. Despite the looming uncertainty, Erin says, “You had to be brave, and camouflage your feelings a little so as not to worry the little boys."
“You had to be brave, and camouflage your feelings a little so as not to worry the little boys."
Four days later, Erin’s husband Clendon took a few others and set off to get Ian. It was a strenuous trip, requiring a large digger to carefully check the road was intact underneath the water before then driving on. But they eventually made their way to the Duleys’, and brought Ian back to Judy. “It was a big relief,” says Judy. “My little boys were very happy to see their Grandad.”
The aftermath
A few days later, after returning the boys to their parents, Judy and Erin saw the full extent of the damage. “It was just total destruction,” Erin says. “It smelt pretty awful.” For Judy, seeing her home destroyed once again was numbing. "The fire prepared us in a way," she valiantly reflects. “We just looked and thought, oh, here we go again. We’ll throw everything out and start over.”
“We just looked and thought, oh, here we go again. We’ll throw everything out and start over.”
Before Judy and Ian could begin clearing up though, their builder, Hayden Ross, showed up unexpectedly with his crew and the Marist rugby team. “Then people started to turn up out of the woodwork,” Ian says. Old friends, family, neighbours, a team from the local PlaceMakers, and Judy’s colleagues from First Light Foods all joined in to clear the property. “We all just got stuck in and did what we could for the day,” Hayden says. For the next six weeks, First Light Foods sent a team out every Friday. “It was pretty humbling,” Ian says, wiping away tears. If it weren’t for Hawkes Bay’s thriving community spirit, the couple says they'd still be shovelling silt.
Imagery from the first day of recovery and volunteer assistance. PHOTOS: Ian Merson
The lost harvest
Damage to the apple orchard from the floods. PHOTO: Ian Merson
Meanwhile, hundreds of uprooted, rotting apple trees were all that was left of the orchard beside their home. They had combined their lease with their neighbours, the Duleys, to meet the scale requirements of a large corporate apple grower. However, after the floods, Fiona and Greg Duley were left out in the cold. The “act of God” clause in their contract meant the production company wasn't required to help with recovery. Ian considered legal action, but Fiona noted it would have been costly “fighting the big boys”.
Instead, Greg and Fiona emptied their pockets to clean up. “[The corporation] could have learned something from them,” Ian reflects. “The Duleys didn’t have to come over here, they could have just said it’s not our problem. We wouldn’t have had the resources or the money to do it. We will always be in debt to them for that.”
“The Duleys didn’t have to come over here, they could have just said it’s not our problem. We wouldn’t have had the resources or the money to do it. We will always be in debt to them for that.”
Ian & Judy standing proud in front of their home. PHOTO: Bella Ireland
“It’s our home.”
Despite some neighbours choosing to leave the area, Judy and Ian were adamant they would rebuild in the same place, with its memories, its bike paths and the nearby Tūtaekuri River. “It’s our home,” says Judy. “I don’t think there’s another area we could love as much as this.”
“I never had any thoughts of not rebuilding here,” Ian says.
What cemented their decision was the insurance companies, who assured them they would continue to cover their property. “I thought, if that’s the worst you can throw at me, I can survive it,” says Ian.
“I thought, if that’s the worst you can throw at me, I can survive it.”
The rebuild was extensive. The house and flat had to be stripped, floorboards torn out and electrical and plumbing systems triple-checked. “They had their place up to such a beautiful standard, all set for retiring, and then it just turned to custard,” says Judy’s sister, Erin. There were times of upset, she remembers, but they were so grateful for what they had. She recalls Judy often saying there were people worse off than them.
Along with the house, much of Ian’s roofing equipment and supplies were irreparably damaged. With a wiped-out business not helping with his slipping personal health, it was all too much. Fortunately, a neighbour with a hire company expressed interest in buying what remained of his business. In three weeks, it was sold. Though he didn’t get much for it, the timing was right. Selling it was “the best thing I’ve done”. He’s no longer on call for emergency repairs.
The greenhouse that wasn’t covered by the flood repairs, where Ian grew tomatoes yearly. PHOTO: Bella Ireland
Ian’s digger sits beside old irrigation piping, just some of the waste left behind by the growing company. PHOTO: Bella Ireland
A new chapter
Eighteen months on, the land looks vastly different. “It’s a changed environment, it’s a changed place to live now. We've come a long way. I never thought we'd be putting a pool in.” Other additions bring Ian joy. “I got me lazy boy now. Wasn’t allowed that before, so there’s hope,” he chuckles. Additionally, thanks to the Duleys’ help clearing the orchard, it has now been leased to a different company that planted new apple trees in September.
Ian and Judy made it through these disasters, but couldn’t have done it without one another. “Ian’s the decision-maker, he gets things done. I’m just here for the ride,” Judy giggles. The two catastrophic events have given them both a different outlook on life, recognising the value of people, not belongings, spending time with loved ones, and working less.
Judy looks fondly at a recent cherished photo of her children and grandchildren. PHOTO: Bella Ireland
Although tears still flow more than a year on, Ian and Judy wake each morning with a sense of gratitude for their lives, and for all the support they received. “We’re fortunate we’ve been able to get to where we want to be,” says Ian, “We might have lost two years, but we’ll be back on top of it again.”
“We might have lost two years, but we’ll be back on top of it again.”