'Trees, Taps & Flying Carpets' - Storm Éowyn Stories
Hello, hello, HELLO is that Tadhg, Ah, A, A, A have no water’. He continued ‘A big tree has blown down, over beside the house and the water is flowing down the garden’... (more from this story below)
As Storm Éowyn swept across Ireland, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake, the group water scheme sector once again demonstrated its unwavering commitment to rural communities. Despite widespread disruptions including power outages, blocked transport routes, and communication breakdowns, GWS boards, staff, and volunteers mobilised swiftly and effectively. Their resilience, resourcefulness, and community spirit were nothing short of exemplary.
In the immediate aftermath, the National Federation of Group Water Schemes worked closely with the Department of Housing, Local Government and Heritage, local authorities, ESB, Coillte, Uisce Éireann, DBO contractors, and individual GWSs to coordinate the restoration of essential water services. This collaborative effort underscored the critical role of the GWS sector in safeguarding public health and maintaining vital infrastructure in rural Ireland.
Key Learnings from Storm Éowyn
In the months since the storm, the NFGWS has met with the DHLGH, DBO operators and others to discuss learnings from the unprecedented disruption it caused. The storm highlighted several areas for reflection and improvement, which the NFGWS is actively addressing:
- emergency preparedness and planning
- effective communication within GWSs
- health and safety protocols
- strengthening partnerships with key stakeholders
These insights will inform future strategies to enhance the sector’s resilience and responsiveness in the face of extreme weather events. In the coming months, the NFGWS will prepare an advice note on storm-readiness and will be in further contact with GWSs to discuss any specific items.
Stories from the ground
The following updates/stories feature three compelling accounts of how individual group water schemes responded during and after Storm Éowyn. These stories illustrate the dedication, ingenuity, and solidarity that define the GWS community. The stories were originally published in the Rural Water News Magazine.
Connection and Communication
Ballycroy Group Water Scheme serves an area nestled between the Nephin Mountains and Blacksod Bay. This scheme also includes two inhabited islands: Annagh and Inisbiggle. The scheme services 420 properties and 50 land meters, with 80% of the system operating on gravity feed and the remainder relying on pumps.
The treatment plant is strategically located near the source lake on lands managed by Coillte, at an elevated position that facilitates gravity-based distribution. However, proximity to Coillte can pose challenges, particularly during harvest time when pine needles infiltrate the source river and become trapped in the treatment plant's filtration system.
During Storm Éowyn, significant challenges arose when 200 metres of fallen trees disrupted the 3-phase connection to the treatment plant. This incident rendered vehicle access to the plant impossible. Although generators were secured the day after the storm, access issues necessitated their deployment elsewhere. Coillte contractors with heavy equipment were required to clear the trees from the ESB wires and poles, which also blocked road access. After two days, access was restored, but generators were still unavailable. A smaller generator was eventually obtained on Sunday evening, but the treatment plant operated at only 40% capacity, benefiting only low-lying properties. This situation raised major concerns for elderly residents with complex care needs and those living alone with mobility issues.
In response, a community network developed via online communication, mobilised neighbours to support these vulnerable groups. At least three text broadcasts per day were sent to keep residents informed, and daily reports were made to the Federation, Council, and the Department’s Rural Water Unit on the scheme's status.
The community was fortunate to receive two tankers from Uisce Éireann, which provided water to the local community. It took over ten days to fully restore the system. It was a very stressful period for both the GWS and members alike, with some taking to social media to express their frustration. Efforts were made to communicate that the ESB supply and the treatment plant were mutually interdependent.
Comments about the feasibility of burying 3-phase cables underground and the availability of generators were addressed by the GWS. A commitment was made to listen and incorporate all feedback into the review process. One key observation is that the GWS is now perceived as another utility, akin to ESB, broadband providers, Bord Gáis, and Eir. These entities have the resources to fund customer service with online tools and estimated response times.
In conclusion, the resilience and co-operation demonstrated by the Ballycroy community during this challenging period highlight the strength and solidarity of its residents. The commitment to improving services and ensuring the well-being of all members remains steadfast.
Community in Action
As Storm Éowyn descended upon Ireland, many braced for the worst while hoping for the best. On the day of the storm, Killaturley GWS, Mayo diligently worked to keep the reservoirs filled, hoping the power would remain intact. However, with extensive damage to the power lines, it was only a matter of time before a power outage occurred.
The following day, power companies conducted an assessment and the news was grim. The water supply would last for a couple of days, but repairs to the power lines would take significantly longer. Faced with this challenge, the local community rallied together. Fortunately, one member had access to a generator, though it required a trip to Limerick to retrieve it. With water levels in the reservoir dwindling and many roads blocked by fallen trees, the neighbour waited until conditions were safe to travel. He then drove to Limerick, collected the generator, and returned to the group water scheme, connecting them to a crucial power source. As this GWS supplies the local town and surrounding rural areas, many people depended on it for their water supply.
The timeline for the water outage began on Saturday at 2pm, following the storm. By Sunday at 5pm, the generator had been sourced and operationalised. A full reservoir was reported by Sunday night. This event underscores the importance of having a backup power source for all group water schemes. It is essential to have the right size generator, and a qualified person to undertake this critical task. Additionally, the value of strong community support in times of need demonstrates that local assistance can be relied upon to navigate emergencies.
Wet and Windy West Cavan
Kildallan GWS gave us a very personal and humorous account of what can happen when the lights go out (or don't come back on!). The story features Tadhg Murphy as our hero, a member's new found way of removing trees and even Helen Hunt, from the blockbuster 1996 movie Twister gets a mention.
Lying there listening and wondering, how could wind make all that noise? Convinced the roof was gone, on more than one occasion, and the house definitely shook with that last blast. The first time it was tested in its 120 years and there it is, I'd say, it's half tossed down, with one night’s wind. A restless, sleepless night brought on so many early morning awakenings, and just as I began to dose off again, the phone rings.
‘Hello, hello, HELLO is that Tadhg, Ah, A, A, A have no water’. He continued ‘A big tree has blown down, over beside the house and the water is flowing down the garden’.
‘Is that the big rotten leylandii that we had asked you to cut down last year, because of its precarious position and proximity to our network mains’ I enquired. ‘Ah, Ah, A just didn't get 'round to it’ was his sheepish reply. You'll have to get 'round to it now,’ I muttered under my breath, half hoping that he'd hear me.
Just the thing you need to hear at 7am, pitch black, with a force 12 blowing outside. I pulled on the clothes in the dark, since the power had just gone, was that this burst, will empty the reservoir. Overalls, high-vis jacket, beanie and head lamp strapped on, I went to jump into the car, off to save the day.
But I didn't get far. This wasn't safe to be out in. So I quickly retreated back until things had calmed down. When I ventured out again, I upgraded to the tractor and loader. ‘Now I'm set for action’ I thought but I didn't get much further. What a scene. Trees down, wires down, telephone poles in bits. Trampolines like flying saucers hung up on hedges and sheets of galvanise across the road in front of me, like a scene from the film, ‘Twister’ .The only thing I didn't see was the flying cow (or no sign of Helen Hunt either).
Eventually it all got too much, even for the tractor. I abandoned the tractor and decided to leg it. After twenty minutes walking and climbing across fallen trees and side stepping fallen phone wires, with the bucket of tools and the big valve key, I came across a lorry. It was stuck on a hill. A big beech sprawled across the road, halted his progress and before he could get out of there, another one fell behind him. The perfect sandwich. As he sat it out all night, watching another dozen or so trees swaying in his direction, wondering which big beech had his name on it, the driver told me that he ‘hadn't slept much.’
I marched onwards, head down into the wind, like a cow in April, trying to avoid the hailstones, one hand carrying all the tools, the other one trying to keep the jacket hood over the beanie. Both hands by now, blue and numb with cold and only occasionally looking up to see if I was still going in the right direction.
By now I had taken to the fields. Silently and sometimes not so silently, cursing the original network planners for putting so much of the network through places, that never were meant to be accessed by man! Progress was slow, pausing periodically to wonder why the farmer had allowed his hedges to become so bad, so as to destroy an otherwise great meadow. Wasn't there powerful grass on it for January? I thought.
Finally I found the valve. This is the time you remind yourself to make good on your promise to go around all the valve lids with a routine maintenance of grease or oil, and to clear the scrub from around the marker post and dig off the sod.
Oh! Not a budge, probably never opened in its 50 years. It just sat there for half a century, quietly waiting for its moment to shine. This is the reason you bring a big bucket of tools, the more the better. It really is a workshop on wheels you'd need, but there is always something in the bucket that will let you out, if you keep a clear head. It's usually a hammer. Almost apologising for hitting the poor little lid so hard, I eventually heard that very welcome gentle ringing, singing sound, that the steel on steel makes as it loosens.
Next job was to ring Jim, and the repair crew. Thankfully the phone was working, he answered on the second ring. There, in the storm we traded stories, each trying to out-do each other with rubbish yarns of catastrophic tales of the morning, till the phones went dead. I hadn't even told him that I had a burst watermain. Ah well, nothing left but turn off the water and head home.
With the wind on my back this time I made good progress, only having to dodge the odd garden shed and plastic calf hutches now in pieces across the fields. Even our original pump house, now derelict, as it stood quietly by the lake shore doing no harm to anyone for the last fifty years, had to suffer the indignation of losing its roof. Even the lovely green camouflage colour that the locals painted it, so as to blend it into the scenery, couldn't save it from the ravages of Éowyn.
Back out on the solid tar, I continued homeward, pausing briefly to wave at one of the neighbouring families at the breakfast table. The kitchen all lit up with the lights of the car shining through one of those big Dermot Bannon glass walls. At least now we know that Bannon's glass walls are good for something.
Finally, I saw the tractor, let’s hope it's still in one piece. When I climbed inside, it almost seemed hot in the cab by comparison to outside. Beginning to enjoy the spin home as the seat warms up, well it is a Valtra. I reached the traffic jam. Yes! traffic jam. Cars and vans all trying to manoeuvre around the debris on the road and ending up stuck in the now very muddy margins. Out comes the chain and I dragged them out, turned them around and sent them back from where they came.
Then I came across a man gathering up some of the afore mentioned galvanized sheets, I knew then, that I had seen it all. The wind carrying it and him, back over the road like Ali Baba on a flying carpet. To drown out the noise of the wind and the tractor, my shouting and roaring at him, ‘to go back inside’, was not well received.
Mind you I haven't seen him since. Maybe he did make it to exotic Arabia after all.
I finally reached the lane, turning in, and up the hill, home was a welcome sight. Now proudly boasting after 120 years, we didn't even loose a slate.
‘Oh' man that hot porridge does hit the spot.’ Now I have to check the cow shed to see if it's still there and start the milking. Something tells me, given the morning that's in it, there'll be even a bigger story there!
So, as in true GWS fashion the care, technical knowhow and a can do attitude, with a sprinkle of humor prevailed, as schemes across Ireland managed a very difficult situation. Learnings are evident and a thank you to all volunteers, staff and stakeholders for getting the water back to rural communities.
