On Thursday, tragedy struck nearby at the hands of severe weather. A summer thunderstorm brought straight line winds of 70+ mph to beautiful Table Rock Lake near Branson, Missouri, sinking a duck boat and drowning 17 tourists. There’s some uproar, indicting everything from duck boat design to onboard safety protocols to weather warning communication. In the immediate aftermath, the president of the duck boat company declared that the storm came out of nowhere, an excuse that may have worked before the ubiquity of smartphones and weather apps. The truth is that the convection initiated 9 hours earlier near the Kansas-Nebraska border and a severe thunderstorm warning was issued for Branson over 30 minutes in advance of the accident, as several defensive meteorologists were quick to point out. The incident was extensively covered by media outlets (though if you read a single article, I recommend this one from the Joplin Globe), so I will focus on my experience watching this storm from nearby Springfield.
Though we’ve been under daily thunderstorm watches throughout this hot and humid weather pattern, my alertness was heightened when I received a text from our Tornado Puncher team in Georgia at 3:45 pm. The radar showed a discrete supercell about an hour’s drive north near Osceola with a 3 inch hail core, followed by a fast-moving line along the cool frontal boundary. The hail core veered and weakened, but the gust front continued to strengthen as it plowed into Springfield, gobbling up the remnants of smaller storms. Two hours later, around 5:45 pm, the storm arrived as a dramatic gale: the trees bent to the ground and a flying flotsam of cardboard boxes and styrofoam packing whooshed by my window. Naturally, I went outside to investigate, as did the neighbors. The wind was impressive, easily 50-60 mph where I was standing (Springfield airport recorded multiple gusts over 70 mph), wresting dead branches from the old trees on our property. The sustained strength of the wind picked up an ominous cloud of dust from the construction zone behind the shop, and I snapped a picture of Missouri’s closest equivalent to Arizona’s infamous haboob:
After 15 minutes of strong wind and a few minutes of heavy rain, the storm pressed south and unleashed a similar fury on Branson an hour later. I can imagine that these same gusts exceeded 70 mph on the open water, solidly within the windspeed range for an EF0 tornado. So these threats need to be taken seriously, especially for high risk situations like outdoor events, boating, parasailing, etc. This is a massive challenge for warning communicators, since the information is available to warn people if they pay attention. Unfortunately, the designation of “severe thunderstorm warning” doesn’t bat an eye in this part of the country, mostly because it means there’s probably not a tornado. This doesn’t lessen the dangers of hail, lightning strikes, or straight-line winds, of course. I hope that the future holds a pinpointed, location-based warning system that rather than drawing a warning polygon will instead text you a brief summary of what will happen at your location and when. Because if one of the duck boat passengers had received a warning memo of “70 MPH WINDS, HEAVY RAIN STARTING AT 7PM” they could likely have diverted the boat to safety. The technology is available, and I hope for the world that our meteorology community can make it happen.