Jul 2020
Sunshine up the coast, just a single line of bright sunlight shining through the, ever present, rain.
The ocean lies flat, barely a surge on the West coast, which is a rare thing. They tell me they can't get out of the harbour on the East coast,
Big waves rolling in from the Pacific. There is nothing but a vast ocean between the shores of Chile and New Zealand then to the South, Antactica with it's massive glaciation surging to the sea.
That Great Southern Ocean, with it's parade of icebergs and permanent population of killer whales, that ocean generates the atmospheric depressions which whirl up in tight formation and hammer the islands of New Zealand with those titanic South East gales.
They only blow for a day or so but in that time they tear the place to pieces.
Curling into Cook Strait between the two islands the South Easterly generates mountainous seas which slam into the inter islander ferries, quickly shutting down operations. The big boats with their cargo of wild eyed, green, sea sick tourists and chained down vehicles, heaving wildly in the giant combers and fleeing with all possible haste for the shelter and safety of a lee shore port.
Blasting North from Wellington leaving deserted, rain soaked streets in the city, the South East gale howls up the island to concertina up against the 8000 ft flank of the Egmont volcano this further compresses the gale transforming it into a howling banshee which allows no man to stand upright. 100 year old giant mamaku treeferns thrash about like matchsticks, the gale shredding huge forests of vegetation, a phalanx of leaves and branches flying horizontal with the ground surface and freezing rain which sears when it hits the face and leaves the toughest men running, with panic, for shelter wearing torrid, bright pink, stinging cheeks beneath their wildly, startled eyes.
The gale endures into the night, all power is gone and no repair crews will venture until it is safe to do so. Outside the monster moans in it's fury and the wife and I cower sleeplessly under the covers, in bed waiting for the juddering roof to be torn off our dwelling allowing the deluge to saturate and destroy all.
There is no sleep to be had and as the night progresses the terror rises incrementally with the rising shriek of the gale and the blast of the teeming hail impacting like bullets against the windward windows.
The night is interminable...and then, suddenly, the eyes crack open to a beautiful calmness, the morning sun, guilelessly, pouring in the bedroom window!
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
5 July 2020
The ocean lies flat, barely a surge on the West coast, which is a rare thing. They tell me they can't get out of the harbour on the East coast,
Big waves rolling in from the Pacific. There is nothing but a vast ocean between the shores of Chile and New Zealand then to the South, Antactica with it's massive glaciation surging to the sea.
That Great Southern Ocean, with it's parade of icebergs and permanent population of killer whales, that ocean generates the atmospheric depressions which whirl up in tight formation and hammer the islands of New Zealand with those titanic South East gales.
They only blow for a day or so but in that time they tear the place to pieces.
Curling into Cook Strait between the two islands the South Easterly generates mountainous seas which slam into the inter islander ferries, quickly shutting down operations. The big boats with their cargo of wild eyed, green, sea sick tourists and chained down vehicles, heaving wildly in the giant combers and fleeing with all possible haste for the shelter and safety of a lee shore port.
Blasting North from Wellington leaving deserted, rain soaked streets in the city, the South East gale howls up the island to concertina up against the 8000 ft flank of the Egmont volcano this further compresses the gale transforming it into a howling banshee which allows no man to stand upright. 100 year old giant mamaku treeferns thrash about like matchsticks, the gale shredding huge forests of vegetation, a phalanx of leaves and branches flying horizontal with the ground surface and freezing rain which sears when it hits the face and leaves the toughest men running, with panic, for shelter wearing torrid, bright pink, stinging cheeks beneath their wildly, startled eyes.
The gale endures into the night, all power is gone and no repair crews will venture until it is safe to do so. Outside the monster moans in it's fury and the wife and I cower sleeplessly under the covers, in bed waiting for the juddering roof to be torn off our dwelling allowing the deluge to saturate and destroy all.
There is no sleep to be had and as the night progresses the terror rises incrementally with the rising shriek of the gale and the blast of the teeming hail impacting like bullets against the windward windows.
The night is interminable...and then, suddenly, the eyes crack open to a beautiful calmness, the morning sun, guilelessly, pouring in the bedroom window!
M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
5 July 2020
