Rochester residents battle depression, displacement a year on from floods

Glenys Mulcahy’s home looks pristine from the outside, surrounded by a well-kept garden and neatly trimmed lawn.

But her house is just a shell. There are no appliances, furniture or cupboards inside. Insulation is exposed in some walls that are still waiting for plasterboard. Flooring has yet to be laid.

It has been one year since the worst floods in memory raged through the central Victorian town of Rochester, displacing Glenys, her husband Brian and hundreds of others in their community.

Brian and Glenys Mulcahy in their home during last year’s floods. Credit: Justin McManus

Last October, the Mulcahys fought to stop the flood invading their property, but it soon overwhelmed their sandbag defences. The pump Brian borrowed to clear their yard of floodwater proved futile.

Their house flooded once before, in 2011, when the water from the nearby Campaspe River climbed about 15 centimetres up the walls. But that experience could not prepare them for last October’s disaster, when the murky watermark reached 50 centimetres inside their home.

“It came like a tsunami in the end,” Glenys says.

Rochester – a town of more than 3100 residents – has about 1520 private houses, and around 1000 of them flooded above floor level last year. The floodwater submerged roads, houses and cars, cutting off the town for days. The disaster claimed the life of a 71-year-old man who was found dead in his backyard after the river peaked.

Last year, The Age spent about three hours with the Mulcahys as they battled the flood. We helped lift their furniture off the floors and saved photographs. Water bubbled up through the toilet and spiders scurried up the walls to escape the rising water as we sloshed about inside.

On that day, Glenys remained cheerful as the muddy water spread through her house and soon engulfed the town. Brian kept busy and stoic.

Glenys Mulcahy back inside her home, which remains under repair.Credit: Justin McManus

This week Glenys’ smiley demeanour was undimmed. But the floods have exacted a heavy toll on Brian’s mental health – just as it did for many others in Rochester.

Over the past year, he has spent weeks at a time in hospital in Bendigo where he was treated for depression. There were moments when Glenys feared the worst – that he may not recover, and they would never live together in their home again.

Through the support of friends and mental health services, she says Brian is on the mend. He still pines for home.

“He keeps saying our lives were so happy before the floods,” Glenys says.

A few streets away, Hannah Fuller has just moved back into her freshly refurbished house with her partner and two children. When the floods hit, Fuller was heavily pregnant with her son Alfie. They had almost completed a 2 ½ year renovation just before their home was inundated with 10 centimetres of water. It had to be stripped back to a shell.

Hannah Fuller with her son Alfie in their refurbished home. Credit: Justin McManus

“All the hard work we put in was literally ripped out in a matter of minutes,” Fuller says.

There have been moments when the stress and trauma threatened to overwhelm her. But Alfie and sister Piper, who is about two-years-old, provide plenty of distraction.

“I’ve got two little kids,” Fuller says. “I can’t be down.”

She believes Rochester remains a town on edge. Nerves fray quickly, particularly after heavy rain. “You can just tell there’s so much anxiety in the town. When the river has come up everyone is in a panic.”

Despite two serious floods in the past 12 years, Fuller is adamant she could live nowhere else. “You can walk down the street and say hello to anyone,” she says. “If you need help, someone is around the corner.”

Rochester was among the worst hit towns during last October’s floods. The Campaspe River bisects the town and many houses are built near its banks. But many regional communities suffered badly in the floods, including Shepparton, Mooroopna, Nagambie, Echuca, Mildura and Maribyrnong in Melbourne’s west.

This was a disaster that exceeded the worst expectations, even for emergency services in Rochester where most people have endured previous floods.

Shortly before the Campaspe burst its banks last year, authorities sent out a blanket message to people in the area urging them to leave.

Rochester underwater last year. Credit: Justin McManus

“Any person located in Rochester or the surrounding area should EVACUATE NOW,” the message read. It warned up to 450 homes would be flooded, but that alarming warning was a gross underestimate.

Today, about 500 homes still stand empty with about 300 caravans sitting in driveways, front and backyards as residents wait for repairs to be completed.

In the town centre, there is little sign that Rochester recently endured disaster, except for a banner hanging from the Shamrock Hotel’s balcony pleading for help.

“We can’t do this again – mitigate,” it reads.

The Shamrock Hotel in Rochester. Credit: Justin McManus

Residents have been calling for government intervention to avert another flood. Nearby Lake Eppalock is the focus of much community anxiety after it recorded the largest water flows over the spillway last October.

The state government is now conducting a technical assessment of the water storage to determine whether changes are necessary to protect communities downstream.

Clinical psychologist Rob Gordon, who has visited Rochester several times in the past year, says floods often leave a less dramatic mark than fires on the towns they devastate.

“You can drive through a place, and you can’t see much, but it’s all on the side,” he says. “It’s painful for people because often visitors don’t understand how difficult it is.”

Gordon says recovering emotionally from a disaster like the Rochester floods can easily take three years. Moving back home is a key milestone. But that can bring a fresh wave of grief as survivors come to realise the extent of their loss, including treasured possessions and family heirlooms accumulated over a lifetime. “It’s really when they move [back home] the full magnitude of the problem sinks in.”

Rochester Community House manager Amanda Logie sees people every day who still need help with the basics – blankets or food and fuel vouchers. As a hot summer looms, keeping caravans cool is the next challenge.

“Even a few weeks ago we had people presenting for the first time who thought they could do it by themselves but got to breaking point,” Logie says. “Who would have thought that 12 months down the track we’d still have so many people displaced?”

Asked to describe the collective state of Rochester’s mental health, Logie replies with one word: “broken”. For some Rochester residents, the prospect of facing another flood is unbearable. Logie knows of residents who decided to sell up and move away.

Amanda Logie at Rochester Community House this week. Credit: Justin McManus

“There are people who have had their houses done up, and they’re not moving back in. They’re going on the market.”

Some elderly residents have been forced into aged care while their homes are repaired. “The likelihood of them coming home is not great and that’s heartbreaking.”

Rochester real estate agent Nicki Henderson has seen this firsthand. She estimates her office has sold about 20 properties for people who can no longer live there due to old age, poor health or simply because they are unwilling to risk another flood.

“They love Rochy, and they don’t want to leave, but they can’t go through it again mentally,” she says.

Henderson worries about how many homes are listed for sale and wishes she was selling them in less stressful circumstances. But, curiously, the disaster has not extinguished demand for local property.

Henderson says news coverage conveyed Rochester’s resilience and that made it an attractive place to live. “In a funny way, it put Rochy on the map for community spirit.”

And yet, climate change threatens to increase the likelihood of more devastating floods and extreme weather. Keith and Margaret Tate are among those who have sold their home rather than battling another disaster. They are moving to Cardigan Village near Ballarat to be closer to family and avoid a repeat of the October floods that reached waist height inside their house.

“As much as we love Rochester, we couldn’t go through another flood,” Margaret says.

Margaret and Keith Tate in front of the house they have sold. Credit: Justin McManus

After an initial tussle with their insurance company, Keith says they took a payout, and he began overseeing the restoration of the house. He arranged for tradespeople to come up from Melbourne rather than relying on overwhelmed locals.

For a while, the Tates were staying in Bacchus Marsh, but then Keith moved into a caravan on his Rochester property, so he could put in longer days on the repair work.

‘In a funny way, it put Rochy on the map for community spirit.’

Nicki Henderson, Rochester real estate agent

Soon after the work was completed, they listed the house for sale. “We sold it within a month and a half,” Keith says. “I was predicting two years to sell it.”

They are now hearing of skyrocketing insurance premiums and Keith wonders whether some residents will forgo cover because it is too expensive. “If anything happens, there’s going to be a lot of people uninsured,” he says.

While some Rochester residents have settled their insurance claims, many others are still working through that process. The Insurance Council of Australia confirmed a total of 1579 claims in the Rochester area. About 60 per cent of those claims have been completed. One was declined.

Rochester flooding last year. Credit: Justin McManus

An Insurance Council spokeswoman says claim closure times were being slowed by the high volume of claims nationally after a year of extreme weather in 2022. A shortage of experts to assess and manage claims has contributed to the delays. The council warns insurance premiums may rise in flood-prone areas.

“Insurance prices risk, and as the risk of extreme weather worsens, insurance can become increasingly costly for those in flood-risk areas,” the spokeswoman says.

The slow rebuild

In the quiet streets of Rochester, workers saw, measure and hammer – completing repairs on about 10 houses a week. Others are still being demolished with new homes to rise in their place.

The state government has opened a new recovery hub where residents can continue accessing services, including free support workers. Emergency Recovery Victoria’s west region recovery director, Angela Carey, says the hub will remain open until June 2025.

Lorraine Wilson at her caravan with dog Rae. Credit: Justin McManus

Carey says previous disasters, including the Black Saturday bushfires, have shown that recovery can take up to 10 years for traumatised communities.

“We talk about recovery having a long tail,” she says. “You’re not better when you get back in your house.”

Community Recovery Committee chairman Leigh Wilson says local institutions, including sports clubs, have helped restore some routine and social connection. There are Monday night community dinners where people can casually check on neighbours who might be struggling.

Wilson estimates it will be another two years before most houses are repaired and residents can move back in. For some residents, repairs have only just begun. Work started this week at Wilson’s childhood home where his mother Lorraine has been living in a caravan on the frontyard since before winter.

“It’s a bit heartbreaking coming home here,” Wilson says.

Inside Lorraine’s home, bare earth is exposed as tradesmen balance on the floor joists as they begin the repairs. The water rose 40 centimetres above the floor during the peak of the floods. Shortly afterwards, Lorraine lived with her daughter whose house nearby was spared.

But then she moved back onto her property and stayed in a caravan for the first time. “I found it confined to start with, but you learn to manoeuvre around,” she says.

Lorraine was adamant she wanted local builders to work on her home. She had heard of other homeowners who had dealt with tradespeople from Queensland who demanded payment upfront and left without finishing the job.

Lorraine is relieved the work has finally started – even if it will be months before she can move in. She is determined to stay in the home where she raised her children, despite the likelihood of the Campaspe River flooding again. “I’m not worried.”

Glenys Mulcahy outside her house. Credit: Justin McManus

A short drive back over the river, Glenys Mulcahy surveyed the repairs on her home as she wandered about inside. Now she can imagine how it will look when it’s finished. Glenys has chosen dark grey carpets for the bedroom floors and new tiles for the bathroom.

“It’s an old home and I want it to look retro,” she says, casting her eyes about the living room.

Mulcahy knows it is unlikely her home will be finished by Christmas, but hopes it will not be much longer. Then her husband Brian can resume tinkering with cars in the garage, and she can tend the garden every day. Only then can they really begin thinking about their future.

“I know Brian won’t be happy until he gets home.”

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