Fire Bombed!

Bonnie and her husband + baby Nicholas came over to our apartment on New Year’s Eve to watch the fireworks. We had a lovely evening and Nicholas was of course the main topic of conversation even though he spent most of the time sleeping in his carrycot blissfully unaware of his popularity.

At 11:58 pm, we (minus Nicholas) gathered on our main balcony to wait for the countdown. Many of the balconies in our building were occupied like ours. Larger groups also gathered on the lawns downstairs. Even the security officers (hired specifically to control crowds on special days) were happily waiting for the fireworks. It seemed like everyone was focussing on the roof of the Eureka building. Well, I was!

The fireworks started right on the dot at 12:00 am. I wasn’t sure which way to look. From the main balcony, we were able to see the fireworks at Docklands, from the roof of the Eureka and the ones on the Yarra near Southgate. Because Nicholas was sleeping in the spare room, I was not able to access the other little balcony to view the fireworks on the Yarra near Federation Square. Okay, I admit it. I love fireworks and we see a lot of them throughout the year.

I think the fireworks went for approximately 15 minutes that night. 10 minutes into the show, Bonnie pointed to two red dots in the night sky and asked, “Are those from the fireworks?” The Good Samaritan said, “They can’t possibly drift that far.” I on the other hand was busy watching this helicopter hovering near us with its search light switched on. When I turned to look at the two dots that Bonnie was talking about, even the crowds in the other balconies and on the lawns have begun to focus their attention on them. One dot was orange while the other one was bright red. As they drifted closer, we saw that each dot was actually attached to a tiny white parachute. The orange dot drifted into our complex first. It suddenly flared up and as it fell to the ground, the parachute itself was also consumed by the flames. One security officer rushed to that corner of the lawn to make sure that the fire was put out. Meanwhile the red one was drifting closer towards the balconies on my side of the complex. Bonnie freaked out and ran inside to the amusement of her husband and the Good Samaritan. The people downstairs were calling up to us, warning us to watch out. One lady yelled out, “Oh no, it is going to fall on my head. I am sure of it. It is definitely going to fall on my head.” I was beginning to worry, thinking that it might land on the roof and somehow start an electrical fire. (Okay, this may not make sense to those who understand the behaviour of fire but I am no expert.) It drifted upwards as it passed by our balcony and then it changed direction, falling towards right where the crowds had gathered. As it fell, it flared up just like the other one and landed right next to where one of the security officers strategically stood. He and his partner put the fire out by stamping on it.

There was a total fire ban imposed on the final day of 2007 and the first day of 2008. That didn’t stop some cheeky monkeys for pulling such a stunt. I believe that the parachutes were released from one of the taller apartment buildings nearby. It was minutes later that I became very angry at what happened. What if the parachutes landed on the roof and somehow started a fire? With the news of multiple house fires incinerating occupants all over Australia in the past month, I sure am entitled to be more than a little angry at these cheeky monkeys.