DOUGAL FLOOD OF MEMORIES

As we experience weather extremes – from last year’s hot, dry summer to a colder than average end to the year – it is easy to forget that severe weather is not a new phenomenon. Indeed, early 1953 witnessed the arrival of a deadly storm, warnings about which were hampered by the inferior communications of the day.

the outcome of all this would be, the dire situation would instead be compounded by bureaucratic boundaries.

The Met Office knew all about the storm’s potential, whilst at the same time, the Admiralty Hydrographers Office had already been predicting an above average springtime that had sufficient height to be causing problems. The problem was there was no single organisation with oversight of the two sources of essential data, so no-one would do the simple math that excessive storm surge plus extra high tide would equate to… disaster.

Whilst there are those who subscribe to the view that climate change and rising sea levels are a good thing, for many sailors around our shores this two-pronged assault on coastal life might be a dominant feature in the media but is still ‘something off in the future’.

However, a focus on the events of 70 years ago can shift the whole issue of what is happening to both waves and weather from the conceptual into the harsh reality of what could happen in any of the big ‘named storms’ going forward.

Turning the clock back to January 1953, the weather was not dissimilar to what we have been experiencing recently, with strong winds bringing in icy blasts, especially for the eastern side of the UK.

For the weather forecasters, though, the real action was taking place way out west in the North Atlantic, where they had detected that a very vigorous depression was forming. The centre of the low was predicted to track halfway between the north of Scotland and Iceland then continue eastwards, but on those fateful days in 1953 the storm system turned 45 degrees to the southeast, which saw it starting to track down the North Sea.

Severe gale warnings had been issued in the BBC Shipping Forecast, but even so the conditions would claim the lives of countless fishermen.

Then came the news that the Princess Victoria, a ferry heading across the Irish Sea, had been swamped with the loss of 133 lives, with only 46 of the passengers and crew surviving the sinking.

Meanwhile, over in the North Sea, as 30 January rolled into 31 January, the storm would reach the super-critical state of ‘bombogenesis’, which meant a pressure drop of more than 24mb in 24 hours.

The Meteorological Office had been tracking the storm’s progress, but events were now making it impossible to ignore the severity of the weather as winds over 100mph were being recorded, whilst Costa Hill on Orkney saw a peak of 121mph.

This wind had now tracked around to the north, which gave it the full ‘fetch’ of the North Sea, thus bringing two additional factors into play. From a geological viewpoint the North Sea resembles a funnel, with the distances between the eastern and western coastline reducing rapidly until they reach the narrow chokepoint of the Dover Straights. This would see the storm surge being pushed ahead of the strong northerlies starting to ‘pile up’ further south.

The second factor is a less well known feature called an Ekman Transport, where the Coriolis effect (caused by the rotation of the earth) results in water being forced outwards at 90 degrees to the wind direction. With the wind hard in the north, this saw even more of the surge directed westwards towards the English Coast. In those days before the clever computer programmes that could predict what

The first signs were noted on the East Coast during the day when, bizarrely, the ebb tide never really seemed to flow, then as darkness fell coastal flooding was reported on Tyneside. Again, though, the lack of any centralised warning system meant that further south people were going to bed on what was admittedly a wild and stormy night, but without any warnings of what was already happening to the north of them.

The mass communication medium back in 1953 would have been the BBC Radio service, but late on a Saturday night most of this was shut down and those warnings that were made mainly went unheard.

The rapidly rising sea levels now highlighted how poorly prepared the coastal areas had become, as most of what could be called defences had been put in place to stop a German invasion in 1940 and had not been updated since.

As each new stretch of coast was swamped, the waters rushing inland brought down power and telephone cables, which further reduced the ability to extend a warning of what was happening. On the Hunstanton to Kings Lynn railway, a train was forced to stop by the torrent of water flooding across the tracks, only for the locomotive to then be hit by a complete bungalow that had been torn away from its foundations.

Some communities did get the message and at Felixstowe Ferry, a small hamlet at the mouth of the River Deben, a few brave individuals went from house to house raising the alarm, thus preventing a greater loss of life. Sadly, just four miles south along the coast, the port of Felixstowe would be hit hard, with 41 deaths being reported, but worse was to come further south at Jaywick on the southern edge of Clacton.

Jaywick had been used as a relocation site for families bombed out of the East End of London during the Blitz and many of the hones were either prefabs or poorly constructed bungalows that offered little protection as the storm waters flooded inland. The problems were now being made worse, as it was not just the height of the water that was doing the damage, but the size of the waves that were crashing onwards into already

With the storm surge having a strong westerly component the Thames Estuary was always going to be at risk, with Foulness to the north and Reculver on the Kent coast quickly being inundated.

The real tragedy would then strike at Canvey Island, where the sea defences were so badly breached that homes went from high and dry to more than 5ft underwater in less than 15 minutes and not long after that the water was 8ft deep! Even those residents who did escape found themselves at risk from exposure, with people who had been forced onto the roofs of their houses now at risk of dying from hypothermia.

Still the floods would push on, right into London where eastern areas both north and south of the Thames were flooded. By the following morning the storm had moved further east and the tide had receded, but what was left behind was a trail of near total devastation, with 58 dead on Canvey Island alone.

Across the North Sea, the Netherlands had been hit even harder, with more than 1,500 deaths, compared to the death toll in the UK of 307. For the UK, the material damage was felt hard in a country trying to escape the austerity of post war constraints, with 140,000 acres of land flooded (much of this had been under essential food production), 46,000 animals killed, two power stations shut down, 24,000 properties damaged and 32,000 people evacuated.

All that was left was to ask: how did this happen? The Waverley Committee was set up to investigate all aspects of the disaster and amongst their 26 recommendations were proposals for a complete overhaul of flood defences and plans for a national flood warning system, which today has culminated in Floodline, a highly efficient and accurate flood risk management programme.

The Waverley Committee also found that however bad the flood had been, it could have ended up even worse, as although colder than average, January 1953 had been drier, which resulted in lower inland water levels to start with.

One very tangible outcome was the first planning towards what would eventually be the Thames Barrier, though even this today is facing the growing risk of being overwhelmed.

Perhaps the bigger question for today is “could this happen again?” with the worrying answer being a clearcut “yes”. Climate change has already shown an ability to serve up a combination of punches, with excessive rainfall mixed in with extreme wind conditions, though in the era of our 24 hour news and constant communication we should at least be warned as to what to expect.

The fears, though, remain…. that one could go to sleep in the warmth only to wake up with the icy water lapping at our ankles. It sounds like a nightmare, but 70 years ago, this was the reality along our eastern seaboard.

To commemorate the anniversary of t e ds sse unt uncil c issi ned l ic c nt ins c i e t e nd ls e tu es inte ie s it su i s nd e s c nce t e e e t se l st t ei li es u c n tc t e ide n t e ll t e ce e

One of the big positive outcomes was focusing on the need to protect the vital areas of London, with the result being the iconic Thames Barrier. The concern now is that with rising sea levels, could even this last de ence finally be o er helmed