Typhoon in Hong Kong

Where were you? You weren’t on the last ferry; you didn’t call Anthony to say you were stuck on the other side.
-- I was having a glass of wine in the neighbourhood bar.
Didn’t you realize it’s gone up to T8? I’ve been out searching for you.
-- I thought it was still T3.
I should never have let you go to Hong Kong Island alone when there was a typhoon warning posted.


It is hurricane season in East Asia at the moment. Hong Kong has an efficient warning system. If there is one moving in the vicinity T1 gets posted. If it gets closer T3 is posted. Then it jumps straight to T8. With T8 shops close, ferries stop running and everyone rushes home.

I was staying with Graham on Lamma Island. It was T1 the evening before my intended shopping trip. When I set off in the morning it was T3 and Graham told me to watch out for signs it had changed from T3 to T8 and to hurry home straight away; it was likely to do that about 6m. He made sure that I had Anthony’s number, so that if I got caught on Hong Kong Island I’d have somewhere to stay the night.

There was only a light breeze blowing. I spent the afternoon in the China Products store in Kowloon, and it started raining while I was there. Then I returned to the Island and mailed my bulky purchases to Australia. I finished at 4.30. I reckoned I had lots of time to get down to Causeway Bay, make some more purchases and be back at the ferry wharf before a possible shutdown at 6pm. I rushed there and I rushed back. The breeze was only a little stronger when I left.

For those that don’t know, the area around Central in Hong Kong is a three-dimensional maze of futuristic pedestrian walkways. It was getting towards 6pm when I came up from the MTR, the underground railway. I missed my way. The wind was stronger now but I reckoned that, if I just kept walking, I’d be sure to see a landmark I recognized. Finally I saw a sign to the pier I needed; it pointed across an open space. As soon as I started to cross this space I was in an air tunnel. Everyone was leaning into the wind to make any progress at all. I had to hold my glasses on my nose with one hand to see where I was going. When I finally reached the next enclosed area I walked on, knowing I would soon see something recognized. I resigned myself to spending the night on Hong Kong Island whether I could locate Anthony or not.

Finally I found my turning. Amazingly, the T3 sign was still showing: no need to rush. I slipped into the supermarket to buy some goodies for Graham. I ambled to the wharf and boarded the ferry. It was only half full and the sea seemed very gentle. When I reached Lamma Island I felt like a drink, so I slipped into the friendly feminist bar I’d been frequenting.

The T8 sign must have replaced the T3 sign moments after I passed it. No wonder the shopkeepers on Lamma were fastening their shutters; now wonder the bars were so full of people home early that evening. I only stayed for one drink. Graham came back from searching for me minutes after I got home. We closed up the flat and prepared for a windy night.

The next day T8 was back down to T3 and the commuters were off to work. We had sustained only one leak, through an airconditioning pipe. Lamma got it light, even though some trees blew down, and the lifesavers at the beach had to dig their post out of sand that had washed in during the night. On other islands homeowners experienced serious flooding and the TV commentators told it how it was standing up to their waists in water.

This is how Hong Kong copes with being in the hurricane belt.

How I’ve been

I’ve left Hong Kong. I flew via Bangkok back to Brunei. Just arrived to night, right at the end of Puasa (Rammadan). I took a couple of days to enjoy Thailand on my way. See you all in Brunei this week … and in Australia next week!

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