Post by Drillbit Taylor on Nov 10, 2015 13:10:08 GMT -5
You’ve probably heard of the Gales of November -- those massive storms that hit the Great Lakes region in early November.
The reason that early November is prime time for these storms is that the Great Lakes are still relatively mild, but we’re also starting to get intrusions of cold air from Canada. When this cold air flows over the warmer Great Lakes, an unstable atmosphere develops -- we meteorologists call it the "Great Lakes Aggregate." Some storm systems developing in the plains and moving this way get an extra boost from this situation, and become powerful storms. One such storm, 102 years ago, sank eight freighters on the Great Lakes and killed at least 235 men on those ships. You can read the article I wrote about that storm here.
Notorious storm of November 1975
But today, we’re talking about another, more notorious storm. Notorious because it happened only 40 years ago -- some of you reading this may remember the day the Edmund Fitzgerald sank -- and also because of Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song memorializing the ship and its crew.
Here’s the meteorological part of this sad story:
The Edmund Fitzgerald and another freighter, the Arthur M. Anderson, left western Lake Superior ports on Sunday morning, Nov. 9, 1975. The Andersen was headed toward Gary, Indiana; the Fitz was headed to Detroit. Both ships carried a full load of ore pellets.
Early on Monday, Nov. 10, the National Weather Service upgraded its gale warnings to storm warnings -- an indication that even stronger winds were now expected. Conditions started deteriorating on Lake Superior, and the Edmund Fitzgerald appears to have been more dramatically impacted than the Anderson, which is reflected in periodic statements over the radio by Captain McSorley, as reported in the National Transportation Safety Board’s official document about this incident:
1:50 PM: (we will) "continue on" (although we are) "rolling some."
3:30 PM: "I have a fence rail down, have lost a couple of vents, and have a list." Then, replying to a question from the Anderson about if his pumps were running, Captain McSorley replied, “Yes, both of them.”
4:10 PM: Captain McSorley advised the Anderson that both her radars were inoperative and asked that the Anderson keep track of the Fitzgerald and provide navigational assistance.
5:00 - 5:30 PM: Another ship that was communicating with the Fitz, the Avafors, reported that McSorley told them, "I have a bad list, I have lost both radars, and am taking heavy seas over the deck in one of the worst seas I have ever been in." The Avafors also overheard Captain McSorley say "Don’t allow nobody on deck."
7:10 PM: The Anderson advised the Fitzgerald of northbound traffic 9 miles ahead of her. In response to a question about her problems, the Fitzgerald replied, "We are holding our own." This was the last radio communication heard from the Fitz. When the Anderson’s radarscope was checked about 1920, there was no radar contact with her. Visibility increased about this time and although lights on shore more than 20 miles away and lights of a northbound vessel 19 miles away could be seen, the Fitzgerald, which should have been approximately 10 miles away, was not visible.
The reason that early November is prime time for these storms is that the Great Lakes are still relatively mild, but we’re also starting to get intrusions of cold air from Canada. When this cold air flows over the warmer Great Lakes, an unstable atmosphere develops -- we meteorologists call it the "Great Lakes Aggregate." Some storm systems developing in the plains and moving this way get an extra boost from this situation, and become powerful storms. One such storm, 102 years ago, sank eight freighters on the Great Lakes and killed at least 235 men on those ships. You can read the article I wrote about that storm here.
Notorious storm of November 1975
But today, we’re talking about another, more notorious storm. Notorious because it happened only 40 years ago -- some of you reading this may remember the day the Edmund Fitzgerald sank -- and also because of Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song memorializing the ship and its crew.
Here’s the meteorological part of this sad story:
The Edmund Fitzgerald and another freighter, the Arthur M. Anderson, left western Lake Superior ports on Sunday morning, Nov. 9, 1975. The Andersen was headed toward Gary, Indiana; the Fitz was headed to Detroit. Both ships carried a full load of ore pellets.
Early on Monday, Nov. 10, the National Weather Service upgraded its gale warnings to storm warnings -- an indication that even stronger winds were now expected. Conditions started deteriorating on Lake Superior, and the Edmund Fitzgerald appears to have been more dramatically impacted than the Anderson, which is reflected in periodic statements over the radio by Captain McSorley, as reported in the National Transportation Safety Board’s official document about this incident:
1:50 PM: (we will) "continue on" (although we are) "rolling some."
3:30 PM: "I have a fence rail down, have lost a couple of vents, and have a list." Then, replying to a question from the Anderson about if his pumps were running, Captain McSorley replied, “Yes, both of them.”
4:10 PM: Captain McSorley advised the Anderson that both her radars were inoperative and asked that the Anderson keep track of the Fitzgerald and provide navigational assistance.
5:00 - 5:30 PM: Another ship that was communicating with the Fitz, the Avafors, reported that McSorley told them, "I have a bad list, I have lost both radars, and am taking heavy seas over the deck in one of the worst seas I have ever been in." The Avafors also overheard Captain McSorley say "Don’t allow nobody on deck."
7:10 PM: The Anderson advised the Fitzgerald of northbound traffic 9 miles ahead of her. In response to a question about her problems, the Fitzgerald replied, "We are holding our own." This was the last radio communication heard from the Fitz. When the Anderson’s radarscope was checked about 1920, there was no radar contact with her. Visibility increased about this time and although lights on shore more than 20 miles away and lights of a northbound vessel 19 miles away could be seen, the Fitzgerald, which should have been approximately 10 miles away, was not visible.
www.clickondetroit.com/news/the-storm-that-sank-the-edmund-fitzgerald/36352086?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=twitter
