Mike Glamuzina and Karen Eppingstall have lived through some fierce storms during their 30 years in the township, but this was something more terrifying and unprecedented.
Little did they know the sodden land beneath their beautiful Oaia Rd home, with its breathtaking views of the wild Tasman sea, had given way in at least four massive slips.
Thousands of tonnes of mud, rock and foliage had slid down the cliff face, destroying a house below and trapping two volunteer firefighters. One would be found dead beneath the wreckage two days later. The other is still fighting for his life.
“They were telling everyone to get out and then we could hear the trees cracking and rumbling. When you hear that sound it’s impossible to describe. It was bone-chilling,” he told the Herald.
They tried to go outside to assess the damage but it was pitch black with fierce winds and “horrendous” rain, so decided to wait until morning.
“We could just see lots of lights down there and we thought, ‘What’s going on?’” Eppingstall said.
A friend from St John called just after midnight and told them to be careful and to consider evacuating, warning that “‘persons were trapped and people were injured’ - so I knew it was pretty serious”.
They would later learn one of those men was local vet Dave van Zwanenberg, who had visited the couple’s house just two weeks earlier for a party with his partner and two young kids, but had to leave early to attend to a foaling horse.
As the winds continued to strengthen, Glamuzina’s son and daughter-in-law phoned to say they had been forced to evacuate their nearby home and were coming over with their two kids.
They arrived shortly before 12.30am but the daughter-in-law had to leave immediately. She was good friends with van Zwanenberg’s partner and had been asked to comfort her while colleagues searched for his remains.
There was no power or cellphone coverage, and little information about the unfolding disaster.
They eventually retired to bed but got little sleep as Gabrielle lashed the property.
At 5am, Glamuzina rose to inspect the carnage. Walking to his home’s rear boundary, he could not believe his eyes.
The landscape had been violently transformed. Where once stood mature pōhutukawa and native bush, there were now giant smudges of broken earth yarning eerily over enormous piles of debris.
“We just didn’t know what had happened,” Glamuzina said. “When we saw that we thought, ‘Holy shit, what do we do now?’
“At that point we didn’t know the extent of it. I thought we were the only ones.”
But pointing to another huge slip just north of his property, Glamuzina told the Herald: “That’s the one I believe that’s taken out the firefighter.”
The couple’s home has been yellow-stickered. They were evacuated on Tuesday but returned today and planned to spend the night. They are awaiting an engineer’s report but are confident their property is stable.
Other homeowners are not so lucky, with properties being lost across the close-knit community. Muriwai remains cordoned off due to instability and many people are still in shock.
Glamuzina said locals were coping “okay” but there was a lot of sadness.
“Everybody’s trying to do everything possible to help each other.”
Glamuzina said van Zwanenberg was a salt of the earth guy and very much respected. His loss would be felt throughout the community.
“It’s just the most frightful situation.”
Further south at Piha, the Herald managed to get through a cordon and speak to locals whose lives have also been turned upside down.
Bush-covered slopes have given way behind luxury homes and seaside baches on Marine Parade, with at least seven properties at the most southern end uninhabitable.