There’s something almost ironic about sitting in the dark, with no power, no mobile network, and patchy radio reception, while hearing updates about recovery efforts after a natural disaster. The reminders to “check websites and social media for updates” feel almost mocking when you have no way to do so.
I have no complaints about companies like Energex, who work tirelessly to restore power after multiple lines go down and trees bring down substations and power poles. But living in the rural Gold Coast Hinterland, there’s a real sense of being left in the dark—both literally and figuratively.
The Christmas storms of 2023, officially named the “Christmas 2023 to January 2024 Disaster Event” by the Gold Coast City Council, left us without power or water for nearly three weeks. Some people are quick to say, “That’s what you get for living somewhere rural,” despite the fact that we’re only a few minutes from a major town. Sure, we chose to live in an area without mains water or sewerage, but we’re hardly in the middle of nowhere.
Am I expecting priority response and reconnection when over 10,000 houses in the region that are connected to mains water are also without power? Of course not. At the peak of the crisis, nearly half a million households were affected. To some, it’s a “first-world problem” that people like me should be more prepared for—enjoy board games by candlelight and all that. But the real impact for me was the drastic loss of income and the mounting workload that I simply couldn’t tackle without power. A generator isn’t a practical or economical solution for running everything I need. So, what can I do? Not much—except rant about it.
The 2023–2024 Gold Coast Storms
Between Christmas evening 2023 and New Year’s Day 2024, the Gold Coast endured a series of extreme weather events that caused widespread devastation.
Christmas Day Storm – 25 December 2023: On Christmas Day, a violent storm ripped through the region, bringing wind gusts of up to 160 km/h and 53 mm of rain. The storm unleashed frequent lightning strikes and large hail, causing severe property and infrastructure damage. Fallen trees and power lines, damaged roofs, and widespread power outages left thousands without essential services.
Heatwave – 28–30 December 2023: Just days later, from 28 to 30 December, a low-intensity heatwave hit, sending temperatures soaring to 40°C with extreme humidity. Many residents were still without power and communication, making the situation even more unbearable.
New Year’s Day Storm – 1 January 2024: To make matters worse, another severe storm struck on New Year’s Day. Some areas recorded over 500 mm of rain, leading to major flooding and further destruction.
These back-to-back disasters left lasting damage, with thousands of residents and businesses struggling to recover.
Lessons Not Learned
Every disaster should be a learning opportunity, especially in Queensland, where “one-in-100-year events” seem to happen every other year. In the decade I’ve lived here, at least five major disasters have been described that way. Each time, it feels like the bar for extreme weather gets set just a little higher.
Cyclone Debbie in 2017 was supposed to be the wildest weather and flooding we’d experience. Yet, it seems like every year since has been worse.
The response to the Christmas 2023/January 2024 storms, in particular, felt like the Gold Coast City Council hadn’t learned much from previous disasters. Many of us invested in generators just to pump a bit of water for cold showers and toilet flushing. But even with a generator, you need fuel—and when roads are flooded or closed, and the few petrol stations that are open are miles away, it becomes a whole new challenge.
During the 2023/2024 outages, temperatures soared past the mid-30s, making life even more difficult. Yet, emergency response planning still seemed inadequate. The ABC radio coverage was enlightening—callers who had gone out of their way to find mobile reception were venting their frustrations about being cut off, while emergency officials kept repeating the same line: “Check the website and social media.”
Then there were the local mayors calling in, seemingly oblivious to the reality on the ground. It was a stark reminder of how out of touch politicians can be.
For a population of over 650,000, it was concerning that after Cyclone Alfred, only three emergency centres were opened for those who had lost power and access to essentials. The nearest one to me was 35 km away—during a time when many roads were flooded, blocked by debris, or had potentially live power lines down. And yet, we were being told to “stay at home and off the roads.”
Mobile Networks and the Government’s Limited Role
On Day 6 of the blackout, our mobile network was finally restored. Scrolling through Facebook, I saw that large trees that had brought power lines down were still blocking roads, cutting off access for multiple homes. Naturally, concerns were growing among those who saw neighbouring areas getting power back while they remained in the dark. We’re constantly reminded not to go near fallen power lines—but when they’re left unattended for days, it raises serious questions.
In Australia, mobile network infrastructure is privately owned by companies like Telstra, Optus, and TPG Telecom. The government regulates the industry but doesn’t directly control infrastructure. There are no mandatory backup power requirements—only general service obligations.
State governments, including Queensland, have little direct control over mobile networks and can only recommend improvements rather than enforce them. Without legislation, the only real way to push for better resilience is through funding incentives.
The Bureaucracy of Disaster Relief
Despite supposedly meeting the criteria for a government disaster relief grant—a $1,500 payment meant to help cover repair costs—I was knocked back, as was my appeal to the decision. I submitted all the required photos and evidence, but as with insurance policies, there’s always someone behind a desk trying to save money. A quick review of Reddit comments show I wasn’t the only one who was rejected despite meeting the criteria.
Some readers might see me as a whinger expecting a handout after a natural disaster the government had no control over. Fair enough. But what they did have control over was the lack of open community centres and the underutilisation of infrastructure—resources that could have made a significant difference in yet another major weather event.
Basic preparation, like accessing sandbags, became nearly impossible due to facility shortages and lengthy wait times. Some sandbagging stations had piles of sand sitting there, but in limited quantities, forcing people to wait more than three hours just to get what little they could. It wasn’t just nature that made this disaster worse—it was the lack of planning and support.