SOUTHERLY BUSTERSTHE BIGHT'S NOT-SO-FRIENWE WERE camped
on a beach on the far
west coast of South
Australia enjoying a few
wines and nibbles and
enjoying the sunset
when we noticed a
bank of cloud moving
pretty rapidly in our
direction. Our mate,
who has had his fair
share of nautical
experiences casually remarked that
there was a 'blow' coming.
The resultant change was sudden and
dramatic. One minute we were enjoying a balmy
late afternoon, the sun sinking slowly to the
horizon, the sea like a mirror with a low, low oily
swell lifting gently onto and up the sandy beach.
The cliffs had taken on the colour of burnished
gold before plunging into dark grey as the cloud
rolled closer — and then the wind hit.
A vacant chairs took off, tumbling before the
'southerly buster' and an awning canvas began
snapping in the breeze. The sea, so gentle a
second before, became a turbulent expanse of
battleship grey flecked by violent white-caps;
tearing, piercing and now washed with cold
spray from a sombre sea.
We rushed back to our campers, battened
down the hatches and doors, seeking shelter
from the storm. The worse passed in a few
minutes and we came out of our abodes to a
cooler and more subtle slate-coloured scene.
A few weeks later my mate was camped at
Twilight Cove, one of my favourite beach campsn southern Australia when he
and his camping companions
noticed a plane flying low and
aggling its wings in what was
the first of a couple of low level
passes before it turned and
flew away. Just minutes later a
'Southerly Buster' hit with all its
fury, ripping an awning off its
mounting, lifting a camp table up
and flinging it against the cliffs
200 metres away, rolling a pegged
down camping gazebo hundreds
of metres along the beach, while also tearing a
couple of wind-out windows and vents on both
of the slide-on campers off their hinges.
Minutes later all was calm again and my
mates counted the cost of the quick and
sudden change.
While NSW people have long thought they
were the sole recipients of what they thought
were Southerly Busters, but during my
youth, spent largely on the beaches of South
Australia, proceedings were often punctuated
by what we also called Southerly Busters.
These dramatic weather events, also called
'backdoor fronts' in the USA and 'Spanish
Plumes' in Europe, generally occur in summer
and are characterised by a violent wind change
and a plummet in temperature of up to 15°C,
or more. But it's the wind change that can
adversely and most dramatically affect us.
Just earlier this year the Clipper Fleet, which
was then sailing up the NSW coast was hit by
a classical Southerly Buster, where the wind
went from a 17 knot (32kph) north-easterly to aNO FIXED ADDRESS
change when you consider wind gusts of 100kph
can take roofs off houses, let alone tents out of
their far less permanent moorings.
Such a wind change when you're camping on
what are some pretty exposed beaches along
our southern coastline can send the camp into
turmoil, as we recently found out during the
aforementioned episodes. My advice? Keep a
lookout for such weather changes, batten down
the hatches before it hits —and have the tent and
camper canvas pegged down with some bloody
good sand pegs!CTAe
o dramatic wiOn the precipice of the Southern Ocean's windy magnificence.in
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tWords and Pics
RON AND VIV MOONSandpegs — the bigger the better when a
Southerly Buster hits!Enjoying the sunset.... before the wind hit!