The Fire

This happened on Saturday, the 3rd of July, and it is not an easy thing to put down on paper, as it still upsets me, but this is life on a Greek island and we have been told that this is a regular occurrence, “fire in Kabitsata is like rain in England”, to quote the locals.

Simone and I were sitting outside drinking tea, when Simone noticed a small fire in the valley opposite. Fires are prohibited from May to October due to everything being tinder dry. I mentioned it to our Greek neighbours who phoned the correct authorities and we soon heard sirens heading towards the blaze. To start with it was interesting to watch, as more and more appliances headed to the fire and then the fire brigade’s planes arrived, dropping water from above.

It soon became evident that the fire was spreading, but as the strong winds were blowing the flames down the valley away from us, we continued to watch, as did our neighbours. We were worried about the village across the valley, up in the mountains, but the wind blew the flames under the village and towards the sea. We began to notice that the wind had begun to swirl in the valley and the fire was creeping towards us. Simone had packed an emergency bag with important documents, clothes, my laptop and camera bag, which I put in our car and drove to what I assumed was a safe place. I then returned to the cottage, but at this point, I was starting to worry as the fire was in the trees a few hundred metres from the cottage. The planes had been joined by helicopters and they were now dousing the flames close to us.

Some neighbours of ours were trying to round up their sheep which were close to the flames. At this point everywhere was thick cloying smoke and we could just see the flames above the trees. The neighbour with the sheep lost her husband and was screaming for him to come back, the trees were exploding in the heat and the water was falling from the sky as the fire teams tried to stifle the blaze. The husband appeared through the smoke herding some sheep, and they got them across the road into another field.

The fire reached the other side of our road with the cypress trees flaming into the sky. Simone was very worried by now and I tried to be calm but inside I was also very scared. Our neighbours also looked panic stricken, and we decided to leave, but at that point a police car arrived and advised us to go back to our cottage. As he was talking to us the flames were directly behind his car and they jumped across the road to the field next to us. We retreated to our kitchen which backs onto this field and watched the flames approach the cottage.

Everything I own is in this cottage, and to watch these flames getting higher and nearer to us was horrific. The heat intensified as the fire neared the cottage, it had reached our fence and was burning the bamboo that grows there. The mosquito netting which I had put over the kitchen window, melted in front of our eyes and then I saw a spray of water. At first, I thought a pipe had burst, but no, it was the wonderful volunteer fireman arriving just in time. They smothered the fire along our cottage and then carried on to the next property. I cannot express the relief I felt, but these unpaid, volunteer firemen are heroes.

My next-door neighbour called to me as there was still a fire in the corner of his garden. I got my hose and was helping him extinguish it when another neighbour called to me, saying that my car was about to be engulfed in flames. I gave my hose to the neighbour, ran down to our road and raced up towards my car which had all our important documents and valuables in it.

Both sides of the single-track road were burning, the dried weeds and grass on the verges were flaming with the odd bush and tree towering over me, covering me in smoke. I could barely see the road, the heat was intense and then the wind picked up pushing the flames towards me. I felt my right arm and the right side of my face burning, but knew I could not stop. I just managed to get to the car in time and reversed very swiftly away to a place that had already been burnt. There I waited until the flames had receded and then returned to Simone who covered my right side with cold water. Luckily, I sustained no more than a bad sun burn, but I coughed for a few days from the smoke inhalation.

Everywhere was covered in a blanket of smoke, but the grass, bushes and trees were black which meant they could not burn again, and we were safe. The fire raged on further down the valley with 3 nearby villages being evacuated overnight. The fire actually burnt in little pockets for the next week. The fire appliances were on standby for 10 days after the fire and were a very welcome sight.

To fight the fire reinforcements were brought in from the mainland, these included 116 firefighters, 38 vehicles, 7 planes and 4 helicopters. These men and women worked tirelessly to save our properties and the land, putting their own lives at risk. They should be rewarded, but they get no pay and even have to bring their own drinking water. I tried to shake hands with a firefighter, but he pulled away as his hand was badly blistered, he had no gloves, in fact as I looked around at them, only a few had fire kit and that was just a few pairs of trousers. Shocking!

It is 2 and a half weeks ago that the fire hit Kabitsata, I have not been out locally to take wildlife photos as it upsets me to see the devastation. The trees where I watched the warblers have gone, the bushes where I watched a Sardinian warbler nest building have gone and the copse where I watched the mice and missed the sparrowhawk have gone. The weir is still running, but the surrounding trees have been obliterated and so the nightingales have gone and there are no more visiting herons or bitterns.

I have been to the beach a bit, Katelios was untouched and the wildlife there is still good. Also, I have noticed the grass is beginning to return to the fields, so soon it will be green again. I am sorry there is not much humour in this blog, but I am hopeful that the Kefalonian magic will return this island to its former glory.