Cyclone watch

A cyclone watch came through on Friday. I was pretty excited because in our 14 months in Darwin, we have not been in the path of a cyclone. Another new tropical experience!

During the Wet, cyclones are not uncommon. Being cyclone-ready is part of tropical life. PowerWater, the NT government agency for, well, power and water, urges caution about living in the Territory at this time of the year. We get regular pamphlets and newspaper inserts warning to be prepared. We know where our mustering point for evacuation is. (It's the parking lot next to Parliament House, which suggests that in the event of a disaster, we may be evacuated with — oh dear — politicians.)

I asked for cyclone preparation advice from my colleagues at work. Diana was a tween in 1974 during Cyclone Tracey — her recollections are of being in a car shaking on the road with her mother and siblings trying to reach safety. Deanna, who grew up in Darwin, told me that before a cyclone, her father would turn the trampoline in the garden upside down and put the plastic garden chairs into the pool, to stop them blowing away. Krystal, who lives on a five-acre property outside of Darwin, recommended buying torches, tinned food and perishables, in case the power goes out and fallen trees block the road. (Somehow I don't think this is relevant for us Darwin CBD apartment dwellers.) Most of my colleagues advised simply to stock up the beer and wine, bring in balcony chairs, and sit out the storm. 'It's only a Cat 2,' most of them said airily.

Full disclosure. After all that excitement, the cyclone, now named Anika, changed direction — away from Darwin.

Here's a map with a better perspective. Cyclone Anika travelled in from the Timor Sea towards Darwin and then spiralled west towards the Kimberley. That small gulf is called the Joseph Bonaparte Gulf. (Joseph was Napoleon's brother. The French explorer Baudin was clearly an admirer.)

A cyclone forms in a tropical low pressure system, and needs warm sea surface temperatures, at least 26.5 °C. (Bliss!) Well, Cyclone Anika may have moved on but the low pressure system remains. A tropical low means rain. A lot of rain.

Undeterred, and feeling cheered by the lack of wind, we set off for our Saturday morning cycle. We were wet after about 2km but remained optimistic. During a particularly heavy downpour, we took shelter in a men's toilet block. (The somewhat startled man in the urinal left graciously.)

Lessons I have learned from cycling in a tropical low:

1. Tree branches that are usually overhead are no longer overhead. Weighted down by rainwater, they are now at head height. Unable to avoid this waterlogged foliage, the cyclist endures a double deluge: rain from sky + rain from trees.

2. Cycling through puddles is fun. Water swooshing around permanently in one's shoes is not fun.

3. Padded cycling shorts are great. However, padded cycling shorts absorb a lot of water, which effectively means one is sitting on a sodden sponge.

4. For the short-sighted, it's better to see blurrily than to see blurrily through water-drenched lenses.

5. You know that feeling after swimming when you have water in your ears? It happens after cycling in the wet Wet too.

Having said all this, it was pleasant to cycle in cooler weather (a slightly brisk 26 °C — cooler than the sea temperature!) and it's always interesting to see the coastline in different conditions. Remember those blue skies last weekend? Here's the view during one of the drier moments ...

And finally, a lighter moment from the NT News.