burster and has its origins in the early days of European settlement. For many decades inner-city residents of Sydney called it the “brickfielder” because the change brought with it clouds of red clay dust from the St Peters brickyard.
“It is a particularly vicious form of a cooler southerly change – a shallow cold front that becomes trapped on the eastern side of the Great Dividing Range that runs down the Australian east coast,” says Roger Badham. “It is locally enhanced by the strong temperature gradient across the front. The most violent southerly busters arrive in the Sydney region in the afternoon or evening, enhanced by the afternoon heating ahead of the change. They move up alongthe coast with clear or partly cloudy skies, sometimes with scattered thunderstorms.
“Southerly busters are most vigorous on the Illawarra and Central Coasts, particularly between Ulladulla and Newcastle. Immediately ahead of the buster the wind dies, then the southerly winds build very quickly (usually over 10 to 15 minutes) to be 30 to 40 knots and occasionally with gusts of up to 50 or 60 knots as it passes. However, the strong winds are generally short lived, easing to be less than 30 knots within a few hours.”
Sometimes a southerly buster is nothing more than a slight glitch in the Sydney to Hobart, a chilly whisper blowing only 20 or 30 knots and disappearing almost as quickly as it arrived. But occasionally they charge up the coast gusting up to 80 knots. They often follow strong nor’easters and the challenge for everyone racing is to try to pick just when they will hit. When the change does arrive the yacht must be converted from a downwind racing configuration into one which will cope with the approaching blast. The wind effectively rotates through 180 degrees.
Sometimes the front’s arrival can be quite daunting. It is heralded by a rolling, cigar-shaped, lead-coloured cloud that stretches from horizon to horizon. Often there will be no visual warning in a clear sky. The only thing to be seen will be a sudden darkening of the ocean surface ahead – the influence of wind on water. In just minutes conditions can go from being near windless, from astern, to having more than 40 knots on the bow.
It’s like sailing into a brick wall.
There is another unpredictable and challenging element that comes into the racing equation when asoutherly buster blows – the fast-flowing southerly current that streams down the NSW coast, bringing warm tropical water from Queensland’s Coral Sea. It can run like a river at three or more knots. Pit that massive current against a 40-knot gale from the opposite direction, and the ocean soon swells into liquid mountains.
The Sayonara team had impressed everyone with some slick work after the spinnaker blew apart just south of the Sydney heads. In less than three minutes a new one had been set. It was obvious in those conditions that the American entry wouldn’t get everything its own way. Brindabella , sporting a powerful new asymmetrical spinnaker, was pushing out to sea in search of the strongest current. She had drawn level with Sayonara , but close behind, the syndicate-owned Marchioness was making its move.
Together with Wild Thing , the big trio headed the race at speeds approaching 20 knots. It was exciting and satisfying racing but every crew was fully aware they were now at the business end of proceedings. Speed maximisation was paramount. Sails were continually trimmed while the helmsman worked the yacht down the lingering blue swells in an effort to promote surfing. Long white wakes streamed astern like vapour trails. There was constant talk about the weather, especially when the menacing grey and white clouds of the thunderstorm, forecast for the evening, could be seen building to the south. Below deck, navigators were watching weather fax machines disgorge the latest meteorological information.
Aboard Young Endeavour radio operator Lew Carter and his assistants,
“It is a particularly vicious form of a cooler southerly change – a shallow cold front that becomes trapped on the eastern side of the Great Dividing Range that runs down the Australian east coast,” says Roger Badham. “It is locally enhanced by the strong temperature gradient across the front. The most violent southerly busters arrive in the Sydney region in the afternoon or evening, enhanced by the afternoon heating ahead of the change. They move up alongthe coast with clear or partly cloudy skies, sometimes with scattered thunderstorms.
“Southerly busters are most vigorous on the Illawarra and Central Coasts, particularly between Ulladulla and Newcastle. Immediately ahead of the buster the wind dies, then the southerly winds build very quickly (usually over 10 to 15 minutes) to be 30 to 40 knots and occasionally with gusts of up to 50 or 60 knots as it passes. However, the strong winds are generally short lived, easing to be less than 30 knots within a few hours.”
Sometimes a southerly buster is nothing more than a slight glitch in the Sydney to Hobart, a chilly whisper blowing only 20 or 30 knots and disappearing almost as quickly as it arrived. But occasionally they charge up the coast gusting up to 80 knots. They often follow strong nor’easters and the challenge for everyone racing is to try to pick just when they will hit. When the change does arrive the yacht must be converted from a downwind racing configuration into one which will cope with the approaching blast. The wind effectively rotates through 180 degrees.
Sometimes the front’s arrival can be quite daunting. It is heralded by a rolling, cigar-shaped, lead-coloured cloud that stretches from horizon to horizon. Often there will be no visual warning in a clear sky. The only thing to be seen will be a sudden darkening of the ocean surface ahead – the influence of wind on water. In just minutes conditions can go from being near windless, from astern, to having more than 40 knots on the bow.
It’s like sailing into a brick wall.
There is another unpredictable and challenging element that comes into the racing equation when asoutherly buster blows – the fast-flowing southerly current that streams down the NSW coast, bringing warm tropical water from Queensland’s Coral Sea. It can run like a river at three or more knots. Pit that massive current against a 40-knot gale from the opposite direction, and the ocean soon swells into liquid mountains.
The Sayonara team had impressed everyone with some slick work after the spinnaker blew apart just south of the Sydney heads. In less than three minutes a new one had been set. It was obvious in those conditions that the American entry wouldn’t get everything its own way. Brindabella , sporting a powerful new asymmetrical spinnaker, was pushing out to sea in search of the strongest current. She had drawn level with Sayonara , but close behind, the syndicate-owned Marchioness was making its move.
Together with Wild Thing , the big trio headed the race at speeds approaching 20 knots. It was exciting and satisfying racing but every crew was fully aware they were now at the business end of proceedings. Speed maximisation was paramount. Sails were continually trimmed while the helmsman worked the yacht down the lingering blue swells in an effort to promote surfing. Long white wakes streamed astern like vapour trails. There was constant talk about the weather, especially when the menacing grey and white clouds of the thunderstorm, forecast for the evening, could be seen building to the south. Below deck, navigators were watching weather fax machines disgorge the latest meteorological information.
Aboard Young Endeavour radio operator Lew Carter and his assistants,
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