On Sat, 1 May 2004 13:26:17 +0100, Jaques d'Alltrades
wrote:

The message
from Janet Baraclough.. contains
these words:
The message
from Dave Poole contains these words:
On Sat, 24 Apr 2004 23:41:39 +0100, "Bob Hobden"
wrote:

Lucky you! That sounds like the phenomenon known as a 'dust
devil' - I'd
love to see one in lieu of an actual twister!

We seem to get a lot of them here in East Angular. I saw a beauty in the
stubbles - it picked up loose straw and you could see the conical shape
of it as it danced across the field.

Apparently the wet version is supposed to be common over the
IJsselmeer in NL. I had never seen one in 30 years sailing there,
until last July when 4 came along together, a bit like London buses.
All 4 collapsed as soon as they passed over dry land. One passed very
close to a European sailing championship in which 200 teenage kids
were taking part.


I don't think you would like to see a twister, well not up close and
personal.

We see those from time to time. Usually they take the path of valleys
and do little damage, but a few years ago one ripped down one side of
Long Stratton village and removed most of the tiles for several hundred
yards. Wally wondered what the strange noise was and looked out of the
window of his café, to see his Merc slide by on its roof.

I saw one in the clouds last autumn, but I don't think the bottom of the
'tube' touched the ground, though it was groping downwards for about ten
minutes.

Very true Bob, The last time I saw one - a decent one here, it was
perilously close, running across the bay and then ripping through the
town centre. On the outskirts it took off the roof of a couple of
buildings. I watched as it hit land and raced up the hill and was
awestruck by its power. By US standards it was a tiddler, but a
troublesome one nevertheless.

The best whirlwind I've seen (not quite a tornado, but more than a dust
devil) was IIRC in 1957, when I was on the staff of Kingsdown Scout
Camp, near Deal.

I was at Kingsdown Scout Camp in 1956 & 1957. First on a normal summer
camp and then helping Peter West during the summer of 1957
I did a winter course there between Xmas 1956 and New Year, which
included forestry and planting lots of pine trees. I remember we
visited a wood yard in Sandwich, as well as hiking there.
I went back for the first time since then around 1995 and was a bit
disappointed that our efforts hadn't produced a vast pine forest. At
least the camp site wasn't covered in a housing estate.


I was accompanying Peter West the Bailiff

I knew Peter West too! Maybe we were there at the same time?

on his
inspection round when we were aware of a rushing, rustling sound, and a
cone of dead leaves, scraps of paper, straw, twigs etc bore down the
camping area.

It followed a slight cleft in the ground, in which was pitched the camp
of an approved school troop. There was a marquee, a couple of large
tents and a big dining shelter.

Under the shelter were trestle tables, benches etc, and breakfast was
laid out - plates, knives, forks, spoons, and egg-cups complete with
eggs. The troop was in the ablutions block a hundred yards away.

The whole encampment was lifted, still as if pitched on the ground:
tents, groundsheets, sleeping-bags, rucksacks, tables, benches,
everything. The lot rose about fifteen feet in the air like that, gently
turning on autoCAD, then it was all rolled up into a whirling, flapping
muddle, and it continued like that until the whirlwind hit the cliff
edge, and died, showering the entire camp down the face of it.

We couldn't help it. Laugh? I'll say. Keeping a straight face when the
boys and their Scouters came out of the ablutions and stopped dead in
their tracks was not easy. The poor fellows spent all morning salvaging
their belongings from the steeply sloping cliff.

No other camp was touched, and it was lucky we were on hand to report
the sight, or foul play might have been suspected...

I saw one while up a hill with my son, who was a self-financing
student and forever thinking of new ways to make money. We watched the
twister forming miles away over the Clyde, and then travel cross country
towards us and our house on the moor below. There was absolutely no
cover to take. I was saying things like "Please let it not get any
closer" and D. was saying "If only I had my camera what a price I could
get for this picture".

I realised too late that I had a camera with me when I saw the dust
devil in the stubbles.

I have photos of last year's wet ones, if you want a copy.