40th Anniversary of the Groundhog Day Gale of 1976 - Retrospective Part Two
Forecasting has come a long way since 1976 Groundhog Day Storm
Published on February 02, 2016
YARMOUTH – Like the uninvited visitor from hell, the Groundhog Day storm blew into the region unexpectedly and took people by surprise, but this likely wouldn’t happen today, says a meteorologist with Environment Canada.
Which is not to suggest we couldn’t get another storm like it, he says, but forecasters would be better able to see it coming now than they were in 1976.
“We’d have a good idea of that at least a couple of days ahead of time,” he says.
And while the Groundhog Day storm wasn’t a hurricane – the Atlantic hurricane season is June 1 to Dec. 1 – Robichaud notes that winter storms can be just as powerful.
“It’s not that unusual to get hurricane-force winds from a winter storm,” says Robichaud. “This Groundhog Day storm was kind of an extreme example of that.”
Part of the legacy of the Groundhog Day storm is the storm surge warning program forecasters use. Warnings are issued if water levels are expected to reach a certain threshold.
That the 1976 storm coincided with very high tides made it even more damaging.
Despite the fury of that wind on Feb. 2 four decades ago, people who remember the storm may also recall the sun was shining, which is not uncommon with this kind of intense storm, Robichaud says.
“You have what we call a dry slot,” he says. “You can get some incredibly strong winds, and actually there’s a layer of dry air that wraps around the centre of the storm, so that dry air can come up and actually clear the skies right out so you can see the sun.”
Had the Groundhog Day storm happened on another day, who knows what people would be calling it now. Robichaud notes that the named storms of the hurricane season tend to get lots of attention, as forecasters track their progress and the media report on them.
A more recent example of a bad storm often referred to by name, even though it wasn’t a hurricane, was the big blizzard of February 2004. Happening five months after hurricane Juan, the storm was dubbed White Juan.
As for the Groundhog Day gale of ‘76 the storm arrived unannounced and with no official moniker, but it quickly made a name for itself.
Shelburne County during the Groundhog Day Storm of 1976: 'It was wild'
Published on February 02, 2016
Looking back on how Shelburne County was impacted
SHELBURNE – “T’was a winter’s wind that arrived unannounced and…unexpected,” reads a February 1976 article in the Shelburne County Coast Guard after the infamous Groundhog Day storm that wreaked havoc and left half of the province in darkness.
“It was a warm day,” recalls the current mayor of Clark’s Harbour, Leigh Stoddart. “I was working and the wind it kept picking up, and picking up and picking up.”
Fishermen went running to get their boats secure as the waves picked up to 20 feet and the wind blew to 90 knots.
“It was wild,” he said. “Anything not secured down was flying everywhere.”
In Shelburne, when the gale was at it’s height, three deep-sea fishing vessels fought their way through the waves and into Shelburne Harbour, thankful to make it to shore. It was reported that many experienced fishermen called the storm the worst they had ever seen.
“Any man that isn’t frightened in a gale like that hasn’t got a working imagination,” one fisherman had said.
The storm saw boats tossed by the wild seas and the gale force winds. A 200-foot barge broke loose from a wharf and in Clark’s Harbour a 65-foot longliner, the Heidi Marlene, sunk at the wharf.
Wilson’s Furniture store in Barrington Passage couldn’t stock enough candles on their shelves during the four-day power outage that had plunged the county in darkness. In the store itself, employees were dressed in hats, coats and scarves as they waited on customers in the cold.
Neighbours taking care of neighbours
The storm had brought out the best in people, as they reached out to neighbours to make sure they were okay during the power loss. Some opened their homes to others.
People with the means to cook meals provided to those who had none.
“It does not seem likely that a more urban area with less independent or resourceful people could have managed such an emergency with equal good humour and efficiency,” reported the Coast Guard newspaper.
Lockeport was another area that saw a lot of damage. A new building at Peirce Fisheries was blown into the harbor, a section of the roof of the high school was ripped off and windows at the Irving station were smashed by the force of the wind.
Bertram Bower had left her home with her family shortly after the power went out. With only a hot air furnace, she sought shelter with friends. It was while she was gone that her family received the devastating news that their home had been destroyed by fire.
“Not many of us are going to soon forget the first week in February, 1976,” wrote the Coastguard. “Some of us have more reasons than others to remember.”
“It was a warm day,” recalls the current mayor of Clark’s Harbour, Leigh Stoddart. “I was working and the wind it kept picking up, and picking up and picking up.”
Fishermen went running to get their boats secure as the waves picked up to 20 feet and the wind blew to 90 knots.
“It was wild,” he said. “Anything not secured down was flying everywhere.”
In Shelburne, when the gale was at it’s height, three deep-sea fishing vessels fought their way through the waves and into Shelburne Harbour, thankful to make it to shore. It was reported that many experienced fishermen called the storm the worst they had ever seen.
“Any man that isn’t frightened in a gale like that hasn’t got a working imagination,” one fisherman had said.
The storm saw boats tossed by the wild seas and the gale force winds. A 200-foot barge broke loose from a wharf and in Clark’s Harbour a 65-foot longliner, the Heidi Marlene, sunk at the wharf.
Wilson’s Furniture store in Barrington Passage couldn’t stock enough candles on their shelves during the four-day power outage that had plunged the county in darkness. In the store itself, employees were dressed in hats, coats and scarves as they waited on customers in the cold.
Neighbours taking care of neighbours
The storm had brought out the best in people, as they reached out to neighbours to make sure they were okay during the power loss. Some opened their homes to others.
People with the means to cook meals provided to those who had none.
“It does not seem likely that a more urban area with less independent or resourceful people could have managed such an emergency with equal good humour and efficiency,” reported the Coast Guard newspaper.
Lockeport was another area that saw a lot of damage. A new building at Peirce Fisheries was blown into the harbor, a section of the roof of the high school was ripped off and windows at the Irving station were smashed by the force of the wind.
Bertram Bower had left her home with her family shortly after the power went out. With only a hot air furnace, she sought shelter with friends. It was while she was gone that her family received the devastating news that their home had been destroyed by fire.
“Not many of us are going to soon forget the first week in February, 1976,” wrote the Coastguard. “Some of us have more reasons than others to remember.”