‘Old lady pee’ sparked dash to sound alarm alerting town of impending flood risk

If Sharron Solomon hadn’t got up for an “old lady pee” things may well have turned out differently for Wairoa the night Cyclone Gabrielle swept through.

Solomon runs the once picturesque Wairoa Riverside motor camp, on the banks of the Wairoa River, with partner Bill Dicken. About 10 people live there permanently.

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On Monday night, as red weather warnings went out, the pair had moved some campers to cabins on higher ground.

But about 3am on Tuesday morning, after getting out of bed to “have a waz” -as she puts it – Solomon noticed water was lapping at her back door.

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After dialling 111 but failing to raise anyone she woke Grant Bishop, a former firefighter and a regular at the campsite.

Bishop hot-footed it to the local fire station where he set off the emergency siren, alerting locals to the chaos that was unfolding.

“By the time we had got everyone to safety we had lost two caravans and a cabin and the water was four feet deep in the backyard,” Solomon said as she stood surveying the destruction on Tuesday.

From a high spot nearer the road she and the 10 or so guests watched as logs, a shed, and at one stage, a wooden Santa, floated past.

“It was unusual. There wasn’t wind and rain like there had been with Cyclone Hale, but the river was just amazing. It was roaring.”

After her guests Solomon’s other main concern was her brother’s Harley Davidson, which had been parked in the garage since Hale, just over a month ago. He had driven down from Auckland with the ashes of Solomon’s son – who died of cancer 10 years ago – but because of the weather couldn’t ride it home.

“All I cared about was that, because it wasn’t mine and how was I going to tell him?” Thankfully she said, it hasn’t suffered badly.

The 74-year-old has lived in Wairoa for 50 years and leased and run the motor camp for 22 of those.

Just prior to Gabrielle and all its fury Solomon and Bishop had trimmed the grass and tidied up the grounds. “The whole place was looking beautiful. We had a vege garden that used to feed the campers. This park would be the prettiest in New Zealand. Now it’s all munted.”

Like others in this little town, at the northern-most tip of the Hawke’s Bay, Solomon said the latest storm was unlike any other.

But she has no plans to leave.

“Hell no. We may be old and raggy but we’re not going anywhere.”

She turns to the house, just as welfare officers slap on a yellow sticker, and then turns back: “The joke is that I’m really fussy and now I’m surrounded by this shit…you have to laugh.”