THE CYCLONE WATCHERS

Waikato Times, Volume 123, Issue 20693, 31 December 1938, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE CYCLONE WATCHERS

Willis Island Weather Station :: A Lonely Vigil

(Ewen K. Patterson in Digest of World Reading.)

THERE ARE VERY FEW parts of the world which bear such a tragic history of cyclone destruction as the far-stretching tropic coastline of Queensland. Periodically this coastline is visited by relentless hurricanes which come sweeping in from the Pacific Ocean, and invariably leave death and destruction in their wake. Although the cyclones usually occur at any time during the hot summer months, between December and April, which is officially regarded as the “cyclone season,” it is by no means unusual for a destructive hurricane to arrive later in the year—during June and July. These tropical cyclones, which also occur in the China Sea, where they are known as typhoons, are somewhat similar to tornadoes, except that they affe.ct a far wider strip. There is still some Mystery about the Cause of Cyclones; invariably, however, they occur when the north-western monsoon is invading the territory of the south-east trade winds, and it is believed by some meteorologists that the cyclones may be the result of a sort of eddy produced by the opposed currents of these two streams of air. At any rate, according to Professor Griffith Taylor, the course of a cyclone resembles the eddy in a moving stream. It is in some' respects an eddy in the great drift of the upper air. It moves forward at a speed of about ten or fifteen miles an hour, rotating like a spinning ball all the while. But the whirling winds, which comprise it, rise to speeds of 100 miles an hour, or more.. They are irresistible, and no accurate measurements of their velocity have ever been made. The cyclones which strike the Queensland coast usually travel inland until they reach the Great Dividing Range, which runs close to the coast in Central and Northern Queensland. Here they invariably circle round over the land and pass out to sea again. It is impossible to give an accurate picture of a cyclone. Hurling before it a mass of tumultuously-racing clouds, the. wind speeds onwards with an awful conglomeration of terrifying sounds, varying from falsetto shrieks to thunderous roars. The seas are lashed into mountainous waves; buildings are torn from their foundations and blown bodily hundreds of yards away to collapse like packs of cards; heavy iron tanks are rolled about like marbles; sheets of iron are sent hurtling through the air, slicing and hacking everything they touch; trees and telegraph poles are snapped off like matchsticks; ships, big and little, are driven to the sea-floor; animals, birds, and even human beings are killed; and at times fish and other sea creatures are washed or blown ashore in great numbers. One of the worst cyclones Queensland has experienced resulted in the Most Appalling Sea Disaster Australia has ever known; this occurred in Princess Charlotte Bay, near Cape Melville. On Saturday, March 4, 1899, the North Queensland pearling fleet, comprising five large schooners and seventy-three pearling luggers, anchored in the Bay for the week-end, to take aboard fresh supplies of water and overhaul gear, etc. But at midnight two cyclones—one coming from the centre of the Pacific Ocean and the other from the Arafura Sea—met in the Bay. For ten long hours the demons of the cyclones raged in fury, destroying white men, black men, their wives and children, and creating a huge tidal wave which flooded the adjacent country for some three miles inland, and which left in its wake, amongst the fallen timbers, smashed boats, dead bodies, and a trail of stranded marine life, including sharks and porpoises, and millions of fish, to rot in the fierce sun which afterwards shone on the scene of desolation. It was several days before the full destruction of the cyclone was ascertained, and then it was learned that seventy-seven of the boats had been smashed and twelve white people and 295 natives had been drowned. Only one vessel weathered the. hurricanes; this was the aptlynamed schooner—“ The Crest of the Wave.” The real heroine of this great disaster was Muara Lifu, a young native woman of Darnle.y Island (Torres Strait), whose husband was a diver on one of the luggers. She saved the lives of twp white men by swimming with them supported on her back to the shore nearly two miles away. It was an amazing performance for a woman; for over five hours she had to battle through the mountainous seas, and it is little wonder that she collapsed from exhaustion when she reached the shore. For her bravery she was awarded the gold medal of the Royal Humane Society, being the first coloured woman to receive this distinction. Muara was the only woman from a wrecked boat to escape during the great disaster, and for weeks afterwards wreckage and dead bodies drifted ashore near Cape Melville. Many North Queensland cities and towns have also been blown to pieces by cyclones—some of them two or three times. There is scarcely one city or town on the north coast that has not been damaged by a cyclone at some time or other. Cooktown, Port Douglas, Cairns, Townsville, Innisfail, Bowen, Mackay, and Gladstone—they have all suffered from those Screeching, Screaming Terrors that are the cyclones. One of the worst cyclones of recent years occurred in March, 1911, when a fierce, hurricane struck the town of Port Douglas. Although in its headlong pasage over the sea it missed all shipping, the cyclone practically wiped out the town, most of the buildings being levelled to the ground or blown over the countryside for miles around, while several people were killed. Seven years later, in January, 1918, the city of Mackay was also swept by a destructive cyclone, which killed thirty people, as well as causing many thousands of pounds’ worth of damage, to shipping, farms, railwaybridges, etc. An extraordinary rainfall followed this cyclone—in three days a fall of fifty-five inches was recorded at Mackay. Disaster faces a vessel caught in the path of a cvclone when among the reefs and islands off the Queensland coast. In this manner many ships have gone to a watery grave, one mysterious disaster being the loss of the s.s. “Yongala,” a vessel of 1825 tons, which was engaged in the interstate passenger and cargo trade, and was caught

in a cyclone on March 24, 1911, when between Mackay and Townsville. From that day to this no trace of the vessel or of any of the 140 souls on board her has ever been found. Since 1922, however, the loss from cyclones in Queensland has not been nearly as great as in previous years. This is a direct result of the work of a lonely outpost—a radio cyclone-warning station on Willis'* Island, a tiny speck out in the Pacific Ocean, about two hundred and fifty miles east of Cairns. This station is one of the. loneliest wireless outposts in the world. W’illis Island is not really an island; it is simply a sandbank slightly over twenty acres in area. It is no more than half a mile long, and its average width is about two hundred yards, while its highest point above, sea-level is only about thirty feet. The island reposes in isolation in the middle of a vast expanse of heaving ocean, and it would undoubtedly be overwhelmed by a rough sea, but for a protecting coral reef that surrounds it. The island is situated about midway between North Queensland and the New Hebrides Islands, and in the surrounding ocean ships are rarely seen at any time of the year, the only regular vessel to pass within sight of the island being the Burns Philp and Company’s ship to and from the Solomon Islands. The only value of the island lies in the fact that it is situated near where the terrible cyclones, which strike the eastern coast of Queensland, form. When this interesting discovery was made, plans were discussed for the Establishment of a Warning-Station on the island, so as to prevent, if possible, a recurrence of the heavy losses of life, and shipping that had occurred through these fierce hurricanes. For some time, however, nothing was done, the chief objection to the proposal being that it would be unsafe to leave anybody on the island. Then, Captain John King Davis, the present Director of Navigation in Australia, and a former Antarctic explorer, realising the urgent need of such a station, offered to do all the organising work, lead the pioneer party that would establish the station, and remain there throughout the first cyclone season. This he did, and thus rendered a great public service, for his action led to the permanent establishment of the station, which for the last sixteen years has proved of inestimable value. The station consists of a combined meteorolagical and wireless receiving and transmitting station, and several times daily, throughout the whole year, weather observations are taken, the information being wirelessed to the Commonwealth Weather Bureau in Brisbane, nearly 1500 miles away. From this information the weather experts are able to calculate the probabilities of cyclonic disturbances, and as soon as it is established beyond doubt that a disturbance is forming, advices are sent out to the principal coastal towns, so that ship-masters and others can be warned. The warnings are also distributed broadcast frorii radio stations to ships at sea. In this manner, information of an approaching cyclone is distributed several hours before the arrival of the hurricane, giving shipping ample time to take precautions and to proceed to shelter, if necessary. It also enables coastal dwellers to take precautions, such as tying their homes down with steel-wire ropes, which in some localities are kept in readiness for the purpose. It is difficult to imagine the loneliness of the men in charge of the Willis Island station. The staff at the island consists of two men, who are always relieved once a year when a stores and supplies steamer calls. No man is allowed to stay on the island for two years in succession because of the loneliness. The men keep a ceaseless vigil and their lonely life, has few compensations. But they have One Great Consolation -—they have no way of spending their money! All the time they are. on the island their salaries are piling up. For food the men rely on tinned foods, fish, and turtles (which are captured at the island), and vegetables and fruit, which are grown in the island’s “farm.” This is probably the most travelled “farm” in the world, for it is composed solely of rich soil which was transported to the island from the mainland of Queensland. All of the buildings on the island are constructed entirely of reinforced concrete, and wired by stout steelwire ropes to concrete foundations set deep in the sand. This is in case a severe cyclone should sweep across the island. But so far the station has never been in the direct path of a really bad cyclone. Nevertheless, preparations have been made should this ever happen, for on the island is a deep underground dug-out equipped with provisions and emergency wireless apparatus. A feature, of Willis Island is its remarkable bird life. It is a vast sea-bird rookery, inhabited by countless thousands of noddies, gannets, terns, and other birds, which have all learned to be friendly with the men. Some of the birds have an almost uncanny intuition of the approach of cyclones; the terns, for instance, always abandon their nests, whether they contain eggs or young or not, a day or two before a cyclone has formed and leave the island for the open sea. They return after the cyclone has for ned and passed on to the mainland of Queensland. Be.c use of this the birds are great friends of the isolated Gen, providing a check on their observations. The gannets are also friends in another respect. These birds are well known for their curious method of feeding their young; they catch small fish which they swallow, and these are later disgorged in the nests to provide food for the baby birds. Always ready to Take a Lesson from Nature, one of the earliest officers at Willis Island turned his observation of this oddity to practical account. After a few preliminary experiments with the tame birds he discovered that, by dint of a little gentle bullying of a gannet, he could compel it to disgorge enough small fish to provide bait for an afternoon’s fishing. The handing of this important tradition to each new officer is one of the rites of the island. Willis Island is a lonely spot; but it is an interesting outpost. Through wireless only has the tiny island become useful. Without radio it would have lain in its loneliness for ever, as for any other purpose than it is at present serving it would be. entirely useless.