28 March 2025
Stronger Together
Oranga Ahuwhenua. Farm Life.
WRITER: FELICITY CONNELL
photographer: PIPPA BEAMISH
Meg Burden and her husband Josh, both 31, and their children, Jack, 5, and Tessa, 3, live and work on a beef, sheep and deer farm at Te Pōhue, inland Te Matau-a-Māui Hawke’s Bay, that they sharefarm with Josh’s parents, Sue and Keith Burden. Theirs was one of many properties damaged and cut off during and in the aftermath of Cyclone Gabrielle. Two years on, Meg reflects on the little and big things they did to get by, and how the strength of rural communities shines through.

“Josh and I have been based in Te Pōhue since 2018,” says Meg. “I think the cyclone definitely helped with feeling more a part of the community. We used to have nights at the golf club before Jack was born. Every Friday night we’d go down there and have a drink, and they’d put on a meal for everyone. But after about a year, it stopped. Then Jack was born and we took a step back from putting ourselves out there and concentrated on the newborn life and what that had to throw at us. So we weren’t really immersed in the community, but having gone through the cyclone, we definitely felt like we knew a few more people.”


On the evening of 13 February 2023, Meg and Josh knew that bad weather was coming. But, like many, they didn’t appreciate the extent of the damage it would bring. As Hawke’s Bay and other parts of Te Ika-a-Māui the North Island were lashed with gale-force winds and record rainfall, bringing devastation to many – with lives lost, properties flooded and whole communities cut off by slips – they were hunkered down with their children on their farm. “We had no idea what was going on outside,” says Meg. “We could hear all the wind and the rain, but we thought, ‘Oh, it can’t be that bad.’” The next morning, Josh headed to his parents’ nearby home and saw the whole hillside had come down. “I was sitting here thinking, ‘Crap, what’s happened? What’s going on?’” says Meg. “We didn’t have any internet or power, so I couldn’t check Stuff or the NZ Herald or anything. So I thought, ‘I guess I’ll just carry on with breakfast and get the kids fed.’”
If Meg seems unusually stoic in a crisis, it’s not just her rural upbringing but the inner strength she’s developed through significant health challenges. In 2015 and 2018 she underwent major surgeries to remove a brain tumour. She has had to work to regain her speech, and deals with ongoing weakness on her right side, particularly when she is tired. Recurrent seizures are managed through daily medication, but affect her ability to drive, meaning she’s reliant on Josh or her in-laws if she wants to get off the farm.
Slips on the Maungaharuru Range. “I know that Josh and his family just make do with anything that
comes their way. They’re just like, ‘Right, we’ll handle it. This is what’s happened. Let’s just get on with it.’ Josh is quite outdoorsy – fishing, hunting, camping – so we had all the bits available to us to help through.”

So while she knew that she and Josh had the resilience to cope with the aftermath of the cyclone, not being able to contact her Wairarapa-based family to let them know that they were all right was tough. “We had no way of contacting them – that was probably the most difficult time, thinking that they will be worrying about me.” After two days, their neighbour Craig Davey, who is also part of the local volunteer fire brigade, was able to reach them via a makeshift track across his dairy farm. After checking that both sets of Burdens were okay, he made a further two-kilometre trek across his farm to reach his dairy shed, where he had a Starlink connection, and was able to get messages out via the Te Pōhue community Facebook page to reassure family and friends who were anxiously waiting for any news.
In the absence of phone or email, helicopters were initially their main connection. “They were our form of communication. I think there were maybe three or four helicopters that landed within the first few days of us being out of communication.” By day five, bulldozers had cleared enough of the slips that emergency supplies – including toilet paper, soap, baked beans and pasta – could be delivered by four-wheel drive. Then, after seven days confined to the farm, more of the road was cleared, so Sue and Meg were able to make the eight-kilometre journey out to a community hub – although they still needed to navigate several big slips along the way.
The hub, centred around the local volunteer fire station and the Te Pōhue campgrounds, not only provided access to other essential supplies, but much-needed connection too. “Everyone was happy to see each other. We had that similar connection because we had been through that same thing – there was a level of excitement of being able to see other people. It was also really emotional being able to contact my family myself and say, ‘I’m all good.’” Meg was also able to get more supplies such as nappies and washing powder from the Te Pōhue “supermarket.” She had enough medication to last her a week, but wasn’t sure when access to Ahuriri Napier would be restored. Using the community hub’s communications, she was able to contact her local pharmacy, and her medication was helicoptered in the next day.
“Sue was the main person of just being there for me and the kids, and being that one to bounce off, when I felt sad but I didn’t want to be sad. She had a good perspective and outlook on things, so that then changed my perspective and outlook as well."
Back on the farm, Meg and Josh pooled resources with his parents. “Keith and Sue had a generator, so we were sharing it. It was kind of a bit Mickey Mouse at the start, and then we found our groove. We’d have it for about two hours a day, then they’d have it for the rest of the time.” With access to power limited, Meg and Josh had to think carefully about how they would use it. “Our oldest is a little bit scared of the dark. So we’d always make sure when we had the generator down here, we’d have his nightlight on charge.” They also had to get creative with food – how they cooked it, and using up what they already had in the freezer. “Luckily, we have a gas burner inside, and then outside we had the barbecue. I was also a good chance to clean out the freezer. We ended up chucking quite a bit to the dogs. And then there were things that I’d popped in the freezer for a really nice evening – like a nice lamb rack, a nice bit of venison.” Meg worked out her own methods of getting day-to-day tasks done, such as using a paddling pool as her “washing machine” and a system of buckets to rinse clothes. “It actually worked pretty well, but the clothes were still rather wet they needed that extra spin in an actual washing machine!”
Having made it through those days thanks both to an inner resourcefulness and the strength of community, Meg’s advice to others is typically practical. “Just keep on keeping on, and keep your head down and just carry on with life as normal until something needs to be fixed, and then think, ‘Oh, how do I tackle this?’ Focus on what you can achieve right then and there rather than thinking of the future. Just think of that day and how to get through that day.” And while emotion is never too far away when she recalls her experience of the cyclone and its aftermath, Meg is quick to acknowledge others who lost a lot more. “We weren’t as affected as those in the Esk Valley – there are tonnes of others who were way more affected than we were.”

“Sue was the main person of just being there for me and the kids, and being that one to bounce off, when I felt sad but I didn’t want to be sad. She had a good perspective and outlook on things, so that then changed my perspective and outlook as well.”
Meg thinks that many rural people and communities have a mindset that helps them cope during and after events like Cyclone Gabrielle. “I’ll definitely say that we just have to carry on. There’s animals to be looked after. And we’ve got to help look after the ones that look after the animals. I think rural people are just head down, bum up, and carry on with things.” While they already had a good baseline of self sufficiency, Meg and her family have taken up opportunities to add to their emergency kit and keep them connected to the community. “Meridian Energy gave the community a whole lot of little portable radios and handheld torches that you can squeeze and the light keeps going. It was a couple of months after the cyclone that I picked them up from a lady in the village who lives opposite the school, and now I’ve created a bond with her. Otherwise, I would’ve just given that awkward smile and been like, ‘I know you, but I don’t know where you’re from.’ So that’s quite nice.”
Both Tess and Jack’s birthdays fell in the week after the cyclone and, by necessity, were celebrated with just Meg and Josh and his parents. Two years on, there are strands of connection made stronger through their shared experience of the cyclone. “We’re going to have a little party for them on 15 February. That also happens to be the day of the local cricket game, which is a nice get-together of all the locals down at the Te Pōhue Hall. I’ll arrive there and I’ll feel like, ‘Oh, I know so-and-so,’ rather than turning up and thinking, ‘Oh, I don’t know anyone.’”
Being Prepared
Abby France, a sheep farmer with her husband and two daughters on a small block in Woodbury, South Canterbury, and Client Advice Manager at FMG, shares her top tips on being prepared for an adverse event.
Think ahead. Living on a farm, you quickly realise that being prepared isn’t just about having a stocked pantry or extra diesel in the tank. It’s about thinking ahead and making sure you’re ready for whatever might come your way. Whether it’s a storm, a fire or some other unexpected event, there are a few key things I’ve learned to ask myself when it comes to rural preparedness.
Identify what makes you vulnerable. Do you rely on one bridge or road for access to the outside world? What happens if that’s blocked or damaged? How will you get supplies, especially if you can’t make the usual trip to town? And if you’re unable to get around your farm like you usually do— whether that’s moving stock or getting to the house—what’s your backup plan?
Think about your home and family. What could impact your house, and what do you need to have in place to protect your loved ones? I always think about my kids – do they have everything they need if something goes wrong? And what about neighbours, your team or others who might depend on you? Do they have special needs you should take into account?
Make small changes. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, but don’t feel like you need to buy a big kit or go out and stock up all at once. With my work hat on, I’d say: first, understand your insurance. Second, start making small changes to be more prepared. For example, we went over our fire escape plan at home, and my daughter had a brilliant idea to make the kids’ playhouse our meeting spot – because, she said, “I’d know where to find it, even in the dark.” And she’s right!
Stay connected. This is a great excuse to invite the neighbours over for a meal and chat about how you can all help each other out if the storm comes your way – especially when you might be all each other have for a while, before help arrives.
FMG was formed 120 years ago by farmers, for farmers. As a mutual insurer, they are one hundred per cent New Zealand-owned and operated and here for the good of the country. This year, FMG wants to encourage conversations about preparedness, and they have supported the production of this story. For more information about FMG, visit fmg.co.nz.
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This story appeared in the Ngahuru Autumn 2025 Edition of Shepherdess.
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