A megaflood devastated early Sydney. An even worse catastrophe is hidden in the city's ‘bathtub'
The deluge that almost engulfed the entire western Sydney suburb of Windsor summoned torrents that ripped away buildings, bedsteads, tables, chairs, the bodies of pigs and a child seated upon a sack of flour.
The Hawkesbury-Nepean flood of 1867 killed 20 people – including 12 from the same family – and left hundreds of survivors half-naked, starving and 'paralysed' with trauma, according to newspaper reports.
It's the biggest flood ever recorded in Sydney and has acted for decades as the benchmark for emergency planners for just how catastrophic a flood can be.
But there are tales of an even greater deluge. First Nations oral histories spoke of a flood so great in 1780 that even the few islands of high land in Windsor spared by the 1867 flood, which 2000 people used as refuge, went underwater.
'There was a big flood before European settlement, in which the Aboriginal peoples climbed the tallest trees, but were still swept away,' said Dr Stephen Yeo, a flood risk specialist at the NSW Reconstruction Authority.
Based on these anecdotes, Yeo believes the 1780 flood could have been two to three metres higher than the 1867 disaster, reaching 22.3 metres at Windsor.
If verified, adding the deluge to the flood record would have profound effects on what we know about disaster risk.
Based on current knowledge, for example, the 1867 flood has a one-in-500 chance of happening each year. Add in the 1780 flood and that chance jumps to one-in-200.
'Perhaps that 1867 flood actually can happen more frequently. And if the same happened again today, it would be much more catastrophic because there's so much more development in western Sydney on that vast floodplain,' Yeo said.
Today a disaster on that scale would force the evacuation of 114,000 people, damage or destroy 19,000 homes, and inflict $7.5 billion in damage, according to the Reconstruction Authority. At least 2200 homes and other buildings were damaged in the 2022 Hawkesbury-Nepean flood.
Verifying the 1780 flood would also raise '1-in-100-year flood' levels expected in the Hawkesbury-Nepean, which are events that have a 1 per cent chance of happening each year. These are the flood levels used to decide the height of floors for properties built in flood-prone areas.
At Windsor, if the 1780 flood was indeed two metres higher than that of 1867, it would increase the expected 1-in-100-year flood level by 1.3 metres, to 18.6 metres.
These estimates are crucial for emergency planning. The Hawkesbury-Nepean Valley is one of the highest-risk flood zones because it's built like a 'bathtub', with five major tributaries gushing in and narrow sandstone gorge choke points that cause floodwater to back up and rise rapidly.
That's why archaeologists and river experts have hitched a ride on State Emergency Service boats to a sandy riverbank on the Nepean, about 45 minutes up into the Blue Mountains National Park from Penrith.
Here the Reconstruction Authority is leading a 'paleoflood' research project, which refers to the study of past or ancient floods, to see if it can confirm stories of the 1780 flood by analysing sediment.
Geomorphologist Tim Cohen, with an akubra hat and a passion for dirt, is in a square-hewn hole dug into a hill about 30 metres above the river.
There are layers of dark chocolate soil and light caramel sands, with the paler layers a mark of powerful past floods that carried heavy sand high up onto land.
'Here you see a really perfect layer cake stratigraphy. So you see muds, sands, muds, sands. And the sands represent the big floods,' Cohen, an associate professor at the University of Wollongong, said.
'This could represent a flood that's 30 metres deep,' he said, gesturing to a thick sandy stripe. 'That's an extraordinary rain event. But I guess the question is, 'How extraordinary is it? How often does it happen?' '
To answer that question, Cohen and colleague Dr Daryl Lam from Water Technology are capitalising on an extraordinary quirk of physics: grains of sand keep a record of when they last saw sunlight.
'Every grain of sand is like a rechargeable battery,' Cohen said. 'When it's buried, it receives the radioactive decay of surrounding minerals, and that's the charge. And what releases the charge is sunlight.'
Cohen hammers stainless-steel tubes into the sediment to collect cylinders of sand without exposing them to sunlight. Each end of the tubes is quickly covered in foil.
From here, the samples go to a red-light lab, where scientists scour the sand with corrosive baths of hydrochloric acid, hydrogen peroxide and hydrofluoric acid to remove skerricks of dirt, bugs, charcoal and tree roots. What's left is pure quartz.
A laser is fired at each grain, which simulates the sun and triggers the release of the radioactive 'charge' as a tiny flash of electrons measured by a photomultiplier.
Back at the dig site, Cohen measures the amount of radioactive uranium, thorium and potassium in the dirt, and the level of cosmic radiation hitting the ground from space, to establish how much 'charge' the grains were receiving during their time underground.
Knowing the amount of natural radiation the grains of quartz were exposed to, and how much 'charge' they released in the lab, allows the researchers to calculate how long ago the sand was buried.
'That's what we're after; when we date the time of deposition, that tells us about the time of the flood,' Cohen said.
Radiocarbon dating can go back 50,000 years; this method can go back a million.
Loading
A flood so big it brought sediment this high would be 'nuts' but is theoretically possible, said Cohen.
As flooding turns deadlier under climate change, looking back at past disasters can help us understand when and why deadly floods may strike.
'The longer your record, the better your capacity to predict the likelihood of rare extreme events,' Cohen said.
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Sydney Morning Herald
5 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
A megaflood devastated early Sydney. An even worse catastrophe is hidden in the city's ‘bathtub'
A thousand horses drowned. Gunshots blasted throughout the night to alert rescue boats to the locations of the stranded while floodwaters nearly 20 metres high swallowed even the homes on top of hills. The deluge that almost engulfed the entire western Sydney suburb of Windsor summoned torrents that ripped away buildings, bedsteads, tables, chairs, the bodies of pigs and a child seated upon a sack of flour. The Hawkesbury-Nepean flood of 1867 killed 20 people – including 12 from the same family – and left hundreds of survivors half-naked, starving and 'paralysed' with trauma, according to newspaper reports. It's the biggest flood ever recorded in Sydney and has acted for decades as the benchmark for emergency planners for just how catastrophic a flood can be. But there are tales of an even greater deluge. First Nations oral histories spoke of a flood so great in 1780 that even the few islands of high land in Windsor spared by the 1867 flood, which 2000 people used as refuge, went underwater. 'There was a big flood before European settlement, in which the Aboriginal peoples climbed the tallest trees, but were still swept away,' said Dr Stephen Yeo, a flood risk specialist at the NSW Reconstruction Authority. Based on these anecdotes, Yeo believes the 1780 flood could have been two to three metres higher than the 1867 disaster, reaching 22.3 metres at Windsor. If verified, adding the deluge to the flood record would have profound effects on what we know about disaster risk. Based on current knowledge, for example, the 1867 flood has a one-in-500 chance of happening each year. Add in the 1780 flood and that chance jumps to one-in-200. 'Perhaps that 1867 flood actually can happen more frequently. And if the same happened again today, it would be much more catastrophic because there's so much more development in western Sydney on that vast floodplain,' Yeo said. Today a disaster on that scale would force the evacuation of 114,000 people, damage or destroy 19,000 homes, and inflict $7.5 billion in damage, according to the Reconstruction Authority. At least 2200 homes and other buildings were damaged in the 2022 Hawkesbury-Nepean flood. Verifying the 1780 flood would also raise '1-in-100-year flood' levels expected in the Hawkesbury-Nepean, which are events that have a 1 per cent chance of happening each year. These are the flood levels used to decide the height of floors for properties built in flood-prone areas. At Windsor, if the 1780 flood was indeed two metres higher than that of 1867, it would increase the expected 1-in-100-year flood level by 1.3 metres, to 18.6 metres. These estimates are crucial for emergency planning. The Hawkesbury-Nepean Valley is one of the highest-risk flood zones because it's built like a 'bathtub', with five major tributaries gushing in and narrow sandstone gorge choke points that cause floodwater to back up and rise rapidly. That's why archaeologists and river experts have hitched a ride on State Emergency Service boats to a sandy riverbank on the Nepean, about 45 minutes up into the Blue Mountains National Park from Penrith. Here the Reconstruction Authority is leading a 'paleoflood' research project, which refers to the study of past or ancient floods, to see if it can confirm stories of the 1780 flood by analysing sediment. Geomorphologist Tim Cohen, with an akubra hat and a passion for dirt, is in a square-hewn hole dug into a hill about 30 metres above the river. There are layers of dark chocolate soil and light caramel sands, with the paler layers a mark of powerful past floods that carried heavy sand high up onto land. 'Here you see a really perfect layer cake stratigraphy. So you see muds, sands, muds, sands. And the sands represent the big floods,' Cohen, an associate professor at the University of Wollongong, said. 'This could represent a flood that's 30 metres deep,' he said, gesturing to a thick sandy stripe. 'That's an extraordinary rain event. But I guess the question is, 'How extraordinary is it? How often does it happen?' ' To answer that question, Cohen and colleague Dr Daryl Lam from Water Technology are capitalising on an extraordinary quirk of physics: grains of sand keep a record of when they last saw sunlight. 'Every grain of sand is like a rechargeable battery,' Cohen said. 'When it's buried, it receives the radioactive decay of surrounding minerals, and that's the charge. And what releases the charge is sunlight.' Cohen hammers stainless-steel tubes into the sediment to collect cylinders of sand without exposing them to sunlight. Each end of the tubes is quickly covered in foil. From here, the samples go to a red-light lab, where scientists scour the sand with corrosive baths of hydrochloric acid, hydrogen peroxide and hydrofluoric acid to remove skerricks of dirt, bugs, charcoal and tree roots. What's left is pure quartz. A laser is fired at each grain, which simulates the sun and triggers the release of the radioactive 'charge' as a tiny flash of electrons measured by a photomultiplier. Back at the dig site, Cohen measures the amount of radioactive uranium, thorium and potassium in the dirt, and the level of cosmic radiation hitting the ground from space, to establish how much 'charge' the grains were receiving during their time underground. Knowing the amount of natural radiation the grains of quartz were exposed to, and how much 'charge' they released in the lab, allows the researchers to calculate how long ago the sand was buried. 'That's what we're after; when we date the time of deposition, that tells us about the time of the flood,' Cohen said. Radiocarbon dating can go back 50,000 years; this method can go back a million. Loading A flood so big it brought sediment this high would be 'nuts' but is theoretically possible, said Cohen. As flooding turns deadlier under climate change, looking back at past disasters can help us understand when and why deadly floods may strike. 'The longer your record, the better your capacity to predict the likelihood of rare extreme events,' Cohen said.

The Age
5 days ago
- The Age
A megaflood devastated early Sydney. An even worse catastrophe is hidden in the city's ‘bathtub'
A thousand horses drowned. Gunshots blasted throughout the night to alert rescue boats to the locations of the stranded while floodwaters nearly 20 metres high swallowed even the homes on top of hills. The deluge that almost engulfed the entire western Sydney suburb of Windsor summoned torrents that ripped away buildings, bedsteads, tables, chairs, the bodies of pigs and a child seated upon a sack of flour. The Hawkesbury-Nepean flood of 1867 killed 20 people – including 12 from the same family – and left hundreds of survivors half-naked, starving and 'paralysed' with trauma, according to newspaper reports. It's the biggest flood ever recorded in Sydney and has acted for decades as the benchmark for emergency planners for just how catastrophic a flood can be. But there are tales of an even greater deluge. First Nations oral histories spoke of a flood so great in 1780 that even the few islands of high land in Windsor spared by the 1867 flood, which 2000 people used as refuge, went underwater. 'There was a big flood before European settlement, in which the Aboriginal peoples climbed the tallest trees, but were still swept away,' said Dr Stephen Yeo, a flood risk specialist at the NSW Reconstruction Authority. Based on these anecdotes, Yeo believes the 1780 flood could have been two to three metres higher than the 1867 disaster, reaching 22.3 metres at Windsor. If verified, adding the deluge to the flood record would have profound effects on what we know about disaster risk. Based on current knowledge, for example, the 1867 flood has a one-in-500 chance of happening each year. Add in the 1780 flood and that chance jumps to one-in-200. 'Perhaps that 1867 flood actually can happen more frequently. And if the same happened again today, it would be much more catastrophic because there's so much more development in western Sydney on that vast floodplain,' Yeo said. Today a disaster on that scale would force the evacuation of 114,000 people, damage or destroy 19,000 homes, and inflict $7.5 billion in damage, according to the Reconstruction Authority. At least 2200 homes and other buildings were damaged in the 2022 Hawkesbury-Nepean flood. Verifying the 1780 flood would also raise '1-in-100-year flood' levels expected in the Hawkesbury-Nepean, which are events that have a 1 per cent chance of happening each year. These are the flood levels used to decide the height of floors for properties built in flood-prone areas. At Windsor, if the 1780 flood was indeed two metres higher than that of 1867, it would increase the expected 1-in-100-year flood level by 1.3 metres, to 18.6 metres. These estimates are crucial for emergency planning. The Hawkesbury-Nepean Valley is one of the highest-risk flood zones because it's built like a 'bathtub', with five major tributaries gushing in and narrow sandstone gorge choke points that cause floodwater to back up and rise rapidly. That's why archaeologists and river experts have hitched a ride on State Emergency Service boats to a sandy riverbank on the Nepean, about 45 minutes up into the Blue Mountains National Park from Penrith. Here the Reconstruction Authority is leading a 'paleoflood' research project, which refers to the study of past or ancient floods, to see if it can confirm stories of the 1780 flood by analysing sediment. Geomorphologist Tim Cohen, with an akubra hat and a passion for dirt, is in a square-hewn hole dug into a hill about 30 metres above the river. There are layers of dark chocolate soil and light caramel sands, with the paler layers a mark of powerful past floods that carried heavy sand high up onto land. 'Here you see a really perfect layer cake stratigraphy. So you see muds, sands, muds, sands. And the sands represent the big floods,' Cohen, an associate professor at the University of Wollongong, said. 'This could represent a flood that's 30 metres deep,' he said, gesturing to a thick sandy stripe. 'That's an extraordinary rain event. But I guess the question is, 'How extraordinary is it? How often does it happen?' ' To answer that question, Cohen and colleague Dr Daryl Lam from Water Technology are capitalising on an extraordinary quirk of physics: grains of sand keep a record of when they last saw sunlight. 'Every grain of sand is like a rechargeable battery,' Cohen said. 'When it's buried, it receives the radioactive decay of surrounding minerals, and that's the charge. And what releases the charge is sunlight.' Cohen hammers stainless-steel tubes into the sediment to collect cylinders of sand without exposing them to sunlight. Each end of the tubes is quickly covered in foil. From here, the samples go to a red-light lab, where scientists scour the sand with corrosive baths of hydrochloric acid, hydrogen peroxide and hydrofluoric acid to remove skerricks of dirt, bugs, charcoal and tree roots. What's left is pure quartz. A laser is fired at each grain, which simulates the sun and triggers the release of the radioactive 'charge' as a tiny flash of electrons measured by a photomultiplier. Back at the dig site, Cohen measures the amount of radioactive uranium, thorium and potassium in the dirt, and the level of cosmic radiation hitting the ground from space, to establish how much 'charge' the grains were receiving during their time underground. Knowing the amount of natural radiation the grains of quartz were exposed to, and how much 'charge' they released in the lab, allows the researchers to calculate how long ago the sand was buried. 'That's what we're after; when we date the time of deposition, that tells us about the time of the flood,' Cohen said. Radiocarbon dating can go back 50,000 years; this method can go back a million. Loading A flood so big it brought sediment this high would be 'nuts' but is theoretically possible, said Cohen. As flooding turns deadlier under climate change, looking back at past disasters can help us understand when and why deadly floods may strike. 'The longer your record, the better your capacity to predict the likelihood of rare extreme events,' Cohen said.

ABC News
23-07-2025
- ABC News
Kingston South East and Robe hit by flooding and storm damage in wave of bad weather
A storm has caused flooding and damaged infrastructure for the third time in two months in Kingston South East and Robe, in South Australia's south-east. The towns were hit with a high tide, winds of up to 100 kilometres per hour, swell of up to 6 metres high and heavy rain yesterday. The towns suffered through similar weather at the end of May and the end of June. Yesterday's weather also caused flooding for the third time this year in the Rosetown area of Kingston. Despite houses in the area being built high off the street the State Emergency Service had to respond to water coming into two homes yesterday. "Certainly the rough weather kept the SES crews busy across the state," spokesperson Chris Marks said. "In the South East we had 32 requests for assistance, so our volunteers were certainly working hard." More bad weather is expected over the weekend. Rosetown resident Peter Frankling said the water came up quickly and surrounded his home. "I was talking to a friend earlier in the day and I said, 'I reckon it might flood again' — and within five minutes it had come up over the road … it's come in quite hard and quite fast," he said. Yesterday Kingston District Council voted to order a drainage study to look into how flooding could be prevented in Rosetown. Council chief executive Ian Hart said it appeared that the flooding was becoming more common and that water lying around for extended periods could have negative health effects. "You talk to people who have been here many more years than I have and they're saying they haven't seen anything like it before — what's happened in the last few weeks — for many, many years," he said. "This might be the new norm — we don't know." Flinders University professor Patrick Hesp has been studying erosion along the Limestone Coast for several years. He said the storms and damage appeared to be occurring "pretty much random" rather than being part of a growing pattern. "We're just having one of those years where we're having a storm every month and I believe another one is coming this weekend," Professor Hesp said. Bruce Parker filmed huge waves crashing over the Cape Jaffa jetty on Tuesday. "You will see in that video there is a little bit of damage to the jetty — just off the shore line, boards have lifted a bit," he said. In Robe power poles and beaches were damaged. Mayor Lisa Ruffell said the council had put rubble down on Fox Beach after sand added after last month's storms washed away. "It was pretty wild — the winds were so strong," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen the sea so rough and coming right at us, with the waves coming up across our coastline." A seal was seen waddling out of the marina and wandering around town. "He was so cute, but I could feel his pain, because it was just so bad, the weather," Cr Ruffell said. "The marina, where it was, the water was right over the car park there and so I thought, 'He doesn't probably want to go in it.' "I wouldn't blame him." More windy and rainy weather is expected on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Bureau of Meteorology meteorologist Lincoln Trainor said a front would come through the South East on Friday, along with a broad low-pressure system. "It is going to a bit more wild, windy and wet from Friday onwards," he said.