After Gertrude, it’s time to nip storm names in the bud
I write from the cossetted position of having only experienced the tail-end of Storm Gertrude. In London, it meant whipping winds and a few drops of rain. I didn’t even bother putting on a coat to walk to work.
Obviously this puts me in a different position to say somebody on South Uist where gusts of 91mph were recorded. Or the 8,500 homes in Scotland and 5,000 in Northern Ireland left without power after the storm toppled electricity cables.
But I shall say it none the less – it is time to nip this ridiculous tradition of naming storms in the bud before it is too late. This winter, the Met Office launched a pilot scheme to ape the US model for hurricanes and begin naming storms. It has established a matrix based on potential impact and likelihood of any incoming storm. Yet the criteria means winds that may cause anything from a few dislodged roof tiles to widespread transport destruction can justify a moniker.
The thinking behind it is that by naming a storm, people become more aware of its presence and prepare accordingly. The reality this winter has been an onslaught of names seemingly every week. That the media, ahem, brand each as if it is the impending apocalypse only makes it more difficult to keep up.
Abigail, Barney, Clodagh, Desmond, Eva, Frank and now Gertrude. If we continue at this pace, we shall be back on A before winter is out.
Obviously it has been a particularly turbulent few months, what with El Nino wreaking havoc in the Pacific Ocean, lobbing weather front after weather front our way.
But I for one feel punch-drunk. Better to go back to the old way, whereby we are informed a simple old-fashioned storm is heading this direction and to batten down the hatches. Hopefully Gertrude’s wrath is the last we endure.