Storms: Dudley and Eunice

Brighton Suffers Storms 17/18 Feb 2022

Storms Dudley and then Eunice hit Brighton and the Uk

Warnings were everywhere, the local press, in the news on television, and on our radios too. Be aware, major storms are hitting the UK with the possibility of flooding. Stay inside, they advised us. Trains were canceled all over the country. Don't go out unless you really have to. We were told to be prepared!

The warnings, we'd heard them all before. Many of us are way too young to remember the great storm of Oct 1987 (they didn't name storms in those days) which literally flattened half the country.

Here in Brighton, we took note, then added a pinch of salt to what they said.

Fortunately, the coastal city of Brighton and Hove, although smack bang next to the sea, has never been considered a flood risk. This doesn't mean however that it gets off completely Scot-free. The entire frontage, from Kemptown's Marine Parade to the lawns in Hove,  often get the worst, as well as the best of Britain's weather. 

Living in Kemptown a couple of blocks back from the seafront, I went to bed half expecting to be woken early to the sound of wheelie bins crashing through my windows or car alarms blaring out.

Nothing happened. I woke up the next morning just as normal. My window was still intact and the parked cars down the street were quiet. Looking out, the world, though gray, all looked pretty normal. Plants in my garden were still upright and barely moving. There was just a stiff breeze, a few spots of rain, and nothing much else.

Feeling somewhat disappointed and ignoring the advice not to go out, I got dressed and went out. On foot, heading South to the seafront, the wind was certainly enough to be noticed. Once or twice it had me leaning in to avoid being knocked off my feet, but otherwise, it was looking to be just another windy winters day in Brighton.

Watching the sea, the waves, each capped white, were big and plentiful. Sea foam scattered the beach and was being tossed about creating a mini blizzard.

Yes, there was definitely a storm going on, but unless you're out at sea on a tiny boat, it was barely worth mentioning. Overall, I felt somewhat let down by the Met Office, and after a brief conversation with a couple of men each with big cameras and even bigger lenses, they too thought it was an anticlimax. 

I went home to have some breakfast. 

Two or three hours later, and fed, I went out to have another look around.

I promptly walked into the eye of the storm. Just about everything from a rubbish skip to a plant once growing on Marine Drive, had been uprooted and moved to somewhere else. 

I could barely walk, and had to grab street furniture along the way to avoid being blown over. Out at sea, waves had grown to twice the size. It was white too. A blanket of foam covered the entire coast as far out as the eye could see. The tide had come in. Brighton Palace Pier, dwarfed by ocean, was lost under a wall of water. Waves crashed upon it, like they were willing it to fall, to become like the other pier a little further West. 

Treading carefully, dodging incoming flying dogs and debris, I headed towards the i360. Getting there, I was only half pleased to see it still standing.

Here, the sea had come in higher and further than I had ever seen it before, bringing with it shale and flotsam, making it tricky underfoot. Several of the restaurants and shops had been hit. They were all closed however and boarded up; prepared for the worst.

By the time I'd reached the lawns in Hove, the sea was in retreat. The storm was leaving too; heading North, inland to London.

Pulling down my hood, catching back my breath, and then turning for home, I bid Storm Eunice farewell; asked her kindly not to return ever again.