After a week of heavy rain, the knock on the door came with no warning. Just after 5pm on Sunday, Harry and Sue Landman were told to leave their home on Sanctuary Drive.

The couple, aged 80 and 77, have lived in the Townsville suburb of Idalia for nine years. The houses on the opposite side of the street back on to the Ross River but have never been affected by flooding.

Within hours, the river burst its banks. As the flood waters hurtled towards Townsville’s low-lying suburbs from the Ross River dam, uncertainty and fear spread across a community struggling with what has been described as “an unprecedented monsoonal burst”.

Forty-eight hours later, walking back into their home on Tuesday morning, the Landmans have to steady themselves.

First there is the apprehension, about the condition of their home and belongings. Then there is the slippery mud, about an inch deep, covering the once-white tiles.

“At least we can’t get it any dirtier,” Sue says as she walks carefully inside.

She checks on old family photos and important papers. Harry is concerned about his car; he manages to get the old one running but the new car won’t start.

“All our files and everything are gone,” Sue says. “But what can you do?”

A few streets away, their daughter Dana, and granddaughters Paije and Belle, are also trying to salvage belongings.

Paije and Bella Landman, at their mother Dana’s house, also at Idalia, Townsville. Photograph: Ben Smee/The Guardian

The flood waters were forceful enough to knock over an old fridge. The girls find baby photos undamaged but books and furniture and appliances are wrecked.

Dana says she thought her home would be safe; that they were not given sandbags because they were further from the Ross River. But the water appears to have carved channels along the suburb’s streets and left few homes untouched.

The experience can be upsetting.

“I don’t care anymore,” Dana says. “I’ve got nothing valuable here left.”

North Queensland remains covered by the grey spectre of an unmoving monsoon trough but Monday night provided a reprieve of sorts. Most of the rainfall missed the Ross River catchment, allowing flood waters to recede in some of Townsville’s low-lying suburbs.

All our files and everything are gone. But what can you do? Sue Landman

In eight days, the city has recorded more than a metre of rainfall, close to its annual average. Some residents had spent a week sheltering from the rainfall, then had little warning when told to leave.

About midday on Tuesday, the Townsville local disaster management group warned that the city was “still an active emergency zone with flooded waters hiding potentially fast-flowing water, debris and sewage”.

Authorities are concerned that if the rain returns the water may rise again rapidly.



“Experts are still predicting rain and thunderstorms with the potential of up to 100mm of rain per day for the next few days,” the mayor, Jenny Hill, says. “We are asking everyone to stay away from flooded houses and roads for the time being because there are a number of health and safety risks. Even if the rain slows, there is still a danger of flooding and rising water going back into homes.”

Suburban roads, including most bridges across the Ross River, remain closed across the city. Power is still cut in some parts and traffic signals are blank in others.

Townsville claims to be Australia’s largest garrison city; it is home to a large and prominent army contingent. Even so, the sight of heavy armoured vehicles – effectively small tanks – moving through the streets is remarkable.

Perhaps less remarkable was the sight of the prime minister, Scott Morrison, climbing aboard one of the army vehicles and donning a camouflage jacket before visiting some of the returning residents.

Army vehicles enter Townsville to help evacuate flood-affected people. Photograph: STR/AFP/Getty Images

Morrison insisted he was “not focused on politics” when asked about climate change, in the aftermath of another “unprecedented” Queensland weather event.

“My thinking is the support for Townsville people,” Morrison said. “I’m not engaging in broader policy debates today. I’m engaging in the needs of people here on the ground, people in evacuation centres, with some trepidation going back into their homes and finding what they’re going to find. That’s what I’m focused on today, not politics.”

Residents meanwhile are still under orders to conserve water. Although as some homeowners returned to their flooded streets on Tuesday morning, many drove past the large roadside signs restricting the use of backyard sprinklers.

“We just want to get the water out for now,” says Ryan McLeish, whose home in Idalia was still surrounded by shallow pools. “It wasn’t too long [ago] they were saying the dam was at 14% capacity. Now it’s, what, 240% or something crazy like that? When it rains it pours, I guess.”