We get what meteorologists call “ex-hurricanes” or “tropical storms”—basically the hurricane’s hungover cousin who shows up late to the party. It’s still messy, loud, and might knock over your bins, but it’s not going to lift your entire shed into next week.
Imagine a hurricane is a full-on rock concert with pyrotechnics. What we get is the same band playing an acoustic set in your local pub after they’ve lost their amplifier. The wind howls, the rain lashes, and everyone tuts when their fence panel flies off.
Take the Great Storm of 1987, for instance. Michael Fish, the BBC weatherman, famously said not to worry. Then the worst storm in nearly 300 years knocked over 15 million trees. Did we call it a hurricane? No, we called it “a bit of weather” and watched our wheelie bins fly down the street like Olympic athletes.
The Great 1987 Storm: Our ‘Almost Hurricane’
That storm was a tropical storm that had an absolute meltdown and turned into a winter hurricane by the time it reached us. It had the wind speeds of a low-category hurricane, but by technical rules, it wasn’t one. It was like ordering a pizza and getting a calzone—close, but different.
I remember my dad telling me he spent the night huddled with a torch, listening to the roof tiles clatter like a game of dice. The next morning, he went outside and saw his car buried under a neighbour’s rose bush. He just sighed, made a cup of tea, and said, “Well, that’s that, then.”
Another near-miss was Hurricane Ophelia in 2017. She was a proper Atlantic hurricane that decided to wobble towards Ireland and the UK. By the time she hit our shores, she’d downgraded to a storm, but she still gave us red weather warnings and turned the sky a creepy, apocalyptic orange.
