I hear the brakes of the Wellington-Auckland night express screech to a halt and hear for the first time a loud rumbling, gushing sound. When I look out the carriage all I can see is misty steam. My friend beside me has a horrified look on his face as he gasps “we’re on the bridge!”
The carriage was rolling and swaying because, unknown to us at the time, our carriage, number 5, was perched on the very edge of the broken Tangiwai Bridge. A huge lahar had formed when the wall of Mt Ruapehus Crater Lake had collapsed. A lahar is the huge river of water that sweeps down the land from the lake. It consists of rock, water, ice, ice and mud.
The carriage plunged into the river and water rushed through the windows. We were through around like rag dolls but luckily it was all over in a matter of seconds as we were thrown by the powerful water up onto the bank. Amazingly all but one of the 22 passengers survived. One poor old man died of a heart attacked as we were bashed around. I grieve for the whole 151 people that died that terrible day.
As I scrambled up the bank to safety, drenched with freezing muddy water, relief flooded through me, I was a survivor.
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