A storm named Annie

Here in the British Isles we have already been blasted by two major storms this autumn/winter season. In quick succession, first Abigail and then Barney raced across us, bringing gale-force winds and sleet showers, torrential rain and subsequent flooding.

What intrigued me about these storms was their names and, after a little research, I discovered the list of storm names for autumn and winter 2015/16 has, in fact, been chosen for the very first time by members of the public. Using email, Facebook and Twitter, people were able to propose the storm names that will now be used by the UK Met Office and Met Eireann over the coming months.

Out of curiosity I checked to see if my name was on the list – it isn’t – but that in turn led me to wondering if there had ever been a storm named Annie … and, of course, there has been. In fact, Annie has been the name of several different types of storms, raging far and wide around the world.

Hurricane photographed from the International Space Station,
 image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Firstly though, let’s just clarify the terminology for these storms, something that confuses a lot of people. Broadly speaking, the names are location dependent: in the Atlantic and northeast Pacific the term hurricane is used, if the storm is located in the northwest Pacific it’s called a typhoon, and if it’s located in the Indian Ocean or south Pacific, it’s called a cyclone.

The word ‘typhoon’ may originate from tai fung, meaning wind that strikes, or from the Greek monster Typheous, the father of storms. The origin of the word ‘cyclone’ is also unclear; it may come from the Greek verb kuklos, meaning to rotate, or perhaps from Cyclops, the one-eyed monster.  

Bad weather usually begins life as a ‘low’ or a ‘depression’, may develop into what we would usually call a storm as the wind and rain intensifies, and only officially becomes a hurricane, typhoon or cyclone once the winds are averaging 74 miles per hour (64 knots or 118 kmph) or more. Major hurricanes are further categorised by number once they reach Category 3 on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Wind Scale (that’s between 111-129 mph, 96-112 knts or 178-208 kmph). At that point, devastation is likely and we should all be under cover somewhere safe!

Now let’s get back to those storms named Annie. Due to their location, typhoons usually have Asian names so there haven’t been any typhoons named Annie (though there have been both a greyhound, in Australia, and a racehorse, in New Zealand, called Typhoon Annie; neither was successful!).

According to Weather Underground, there was a tropical cyclone named Annie in the southern Indian Ocean between 28 October and 4 November 1969. She started out as a normal tropical depression (above left), then strengthened to a category 1 cyclone, with winds gusting between 74 and 95 mph, but fizzled out after about week without making landfall. And there was another named Annie in the same area (above right) in November/December 1973, which also worsened from tropical depression status to a category 1 cyclone. Luckily, though winds were gusting to 90 mph (78 knots or 145 kmph) at the Cocos Islands, this Annie also dissipated without causing any damage. 

Devastation caused by Hurricane Annie, images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

However, I was rather shocked to discover that Hurricane Annie was the most powerful hurricane ever to hit the United States! According to an article in the Sun Sentinel:  

The Labor Day storm [on 2 September 1935] was a category 5 hurricane that killed 408 people in the Florida Keys. People caught in the open were blasted by sand with such force that it stripped away their clothing. The storm destroyed Henry Flagler's railroad that connected Key West to the mainland and is said to have cleared every tree and every building off Matecumbe Key.

Those who perished in the storm included 259 World War I veterans living in three Civilian Conservation Corps camps while they worked constructing the Overseas Highway. A train sent to rescue them from the storm arrived too late and many died on board when it was swept off its track by the storm surge. Author Ernest Hemingway visited the Keys after the storm and wrote a scathing magazine article critical of those rescue efforts titled, "Who Killed the Vets?"

Damage in the United States was estimated at $6 million. … The only other category 5 hurricane to strike the U.S. coast was Camille, which hit Mississippi in August 1969. Camille's central pressure was 909 millibars. Andrew [August 1992] ranks third. Classified as a category 4 storm, Andrew's central pressure measured 922 millibars.

Burial of the 1835 hurricane victims, image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

If you are interested, there is more information about the hurricane on Wikipedia, including a list of publications that have been written about it, and news channel Local10 also has a news bulletin showing images of the destruction caused by Hurricane Annie 80 years ago.  

What a sobering discovery it was to learn that a hurricane with my name had caused such devastation and loss of life, and what a terrible tragedy for the people of Florida. Let’s hope that was the last storm named Annie to cause any damage anywhere in the world.

Auckland: a celebration in clouds

Who doesn’t like to moan about the weather? Yet, despite my initial grumblings about arriving back in Auckland to gale-force winds and driving heavy rain, its weather is one of the things I love about this maritime city.

Yesterday's weather

Perched as it is on the narrowest isthmus of the North Island – so narrow, in fact, that you can walk the 16 kilometres from coast to coast in just a few hours – Auckland enjoys a multitudinous palette of weather. Indeed, there’s a standing joke that in Auckland you can experience all four seasons in just one day. Both a rainproof jacket and sunscreen are essential at all times of the year!

Fierce tropical storms blow down from the mighty Pacific Ocean, bringing hurricane-strength winds and torrential downpours, and ice-chilled Antarctic gales blow up from the Roaring Forties, their fury funnelling north through the always wild Tasman Strait. Yet, despite being exposed to these climate extremes, Auckland’s climate is, for the most part, mild but also, invariably, damp – humid in the summer, and with frequent rain in all seasons.

The good thing about all that rain is the clouds that carry it. The clouds that light up in magnificent shades of pink, purple, orange and red at the breaking of the day and as the sun sets. The clouds that look like enormous clumps of cotton wool and can be imagined as faces or characters or scenes. The clouds that grow dark and angry and threatening then bring us the magic of lightning. And don’t even get me started on rainbows. How impoverished our lives would be without the glory of rainbows.

To show you the infinite diversity of Auckland’s weather, I have photographed the same scene – one of the views from my inner-city apartment, looking towards the extinct volcanic cone of Mt Eden – at different times of the day and the year. Inspired by yesterday's clouds, here then is my celebration of Auckland’s weather.

Weathervanes of Cheshire

Atop the Penny Farthing Museum in Knutsford

For as long as we have roamed the earth, humans have been obsessed with the weather – and for good reason. Even today, the weather can shape our lives, direct our actions, cause mayhem and madness, bring happiness and joy.

Weathervanes, weathercocks, wind vanes – whatever you want to call them – are one of the tools we use to keep in touch with the weather, to check for those all-important changes in wind strength and direction. Yet they can also be delightful pieces of artwork.

In a triumph of the creative over the practical, weathervanes can be made to measure. They can advertise a profession, signal a personal preference, pay homage to history and reflect local heritage, or celebrate an object of adoration. They can be used to make a statement about their owner and add distinction to a building.

In May 2014, while I was back living in my native New Zealand, I celebrated the weathervanes of central Auckland in a blog and, ever since, I have kept an eye out for more examples. Here in England, the tradition of owning weathervanes, especially those of bespoke designs, seems to be flourishing, so I am accumulating a veritable treasure chest of images to share. Here is the first of likely several blogs, with a few snappy quotes by famous people to accompany my photos.

A ship in full sail became Runcorn's insignia in 1894 so this weathervane atop the town's
 information centre is entirely appropriate

I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination. ~ Jimmy Dean

A gardener and a bird lover perhaps? From Wincham

Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather. ~ John Ruskin

Another ship design in Runcorn's town centre

The weathercocks on spires and housetops were mysterious with hints of stormy wind, and pointed, like so many ghostly fingers, out to dangerous seas, where fragments of great wrecks were drifting, perhaps, and helpless men were rocked upon them into a sleep as deep as the unfathomable waters. ~ Charles Dickens, Dombey and Son

Found in Wincham

The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails. ~ William Arthur Ward

The Grim Reaper seems an odd choice to me but each to their own. Found in Wybunbury

When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it. ~ Henry Ford

From Pickmere. Not sure I approve of the subject, but it's a fine weathervane just the same.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~ Charles Dickens

Found near Bollington

If you reveal your secrets to the wind, you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees. ~ Khalil Gibran

Found in Over Peover

Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, / For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame. ~ W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart's Desire