Katrina

HURRICANE HUNTERS

HOME

Cyberflight
> Eye-to-Eye

Data

Events & PA

Gallery

Jobs

History

Stories

Background

FAQs

Ask Us

Links

Franklin

Rita

Eye to Eye with Hurricane Katrina

We followed Katrina in a dozen flights, from its birth until it made landfall on our hometown. This page includes a few photos taken when Katrina was at its peak intensity, a powerful Category 5 hurricane. Although it weakened somewhat prior to hitting land, it was the storm surge it that exacted the greatest toll. Click on the photo at right for a larger version, and use your browser's BACK key to return here .

We are always awed when we find a hurricane has intensified and displaying the "stadium effect", which is where the wall cloud arches completely around the eye, looking very much like a football stadium made of clouds. We find ourselves inside this cylinder of clouds, with the top rim perhaps three or four miles above us (yes, we fly right through those thunderstorm clouds... we can't quite get high enough to go over the top).
At the point Sunday morning, when one of our dropsonde instruments showed a sea-level pressure of 907 millibars, we realized we had a hurricane comparable to 1969's Hurricane Camille in intensity... only much larger.
A NOAA aircraft behind ours measured an even lower pressure of 902 millibars; for the moment, this was the fourth lowest pressure ever measured in the Atlantic basin (the lower the pressure, the more intense the storm).
The next day, our crews recorded a rise in pressure on each pass through the eye as Katrina neared our shores; we cheered each millibar of weakening, but it was with heavy hearts, because we knew it was still going to be very terrible.
mississippi delta The day before Katrina struck, our crews were flying over the "birdfoot", where the Mississippi River extends into the Gulf of Mexico. With the towering anvil clouds of Katrina's outflow menacing in the background, this region looked so vulnerable. This is always an eerie feeling for us, when we fly the outer edges of our patterns and see a region in the path of a powerful storm, and we wonder how much will change in the hours to come.
flight suit in the mud Years of flying these storms did nothing to prepare us for the heartbreak of the destruction to our community. Many of our crewmembers returned to homes that flooded up to the ceiling (in at least once case, only a slab was left). We dug through the debris to see what could be saved. Pilot Brit holds up his flight suit; the mud is so thick you can barely see the Hurricane Hunter patch on the shoulder, under his hand. Just be glad this website doesn't come to you in "smell-a-vision".
Below are the homes of two other crewmembers.
dave's house rob's house

For an illuminating set of "before/after" photos, check out the USGS Hurricane Katrina Impact Studies website. I chose this pair because it shows the Biloxi lighthouse still stands, a beacon to our determination to endure and recover. This is the same lighthouse which was on our previous shoulder patch, worn by members of the Air Force Reserve 815th "Storm Trackers". We see this as a symbol of hope for the future.

Next to Rita, back to Irene, or Return to Hurricane Hunter Home Page

	We are always awed when we find a hurricane has intensified and displaying the "stadium effect", which is where the wall cloud arches completely around the eye, looking very much like a football stadium made of clouds. We find ourselves inside this cylinder of clouds, with the top rim perhaps three or four miles above us (yes, we fly right through those thunderstorm clouds... we can't quite get high enough to go over the top).
	At the point Sunday morning, when one of our dropsonde instruments showed a sea-level pressure of 907 millibars, we realized we had a hurricane comparable to 1969's Hurricane Camille in intensity... only much larger.
	A NOAA aircraft behind ours measured an even lower pressure of 902 millibars; for the moment, this was the fourth lowest pressure ever measured in the Atlantic basin (the lower the pressure, the more intense the storm). The next day, our crews recorded a rise in pressure on each pass through the eye as Katrina neared our shores; we cheered each millibar of weakening, but it was with heavy hearts, because we knew it was still going to be very terrible.
	The day before Katrina struck, our crews were flying over the "birdfoot", where the Mississippi River extends into the Gulf of Mexico. With the towering anvil clouds of Katrina's outflow menacing in the background, this region looked so vulnerable. This is always an eerie feeling for us, when we fly the outer edges of our patterns and see a region in the path of a powerful storm, and we wonder how much will change in the hours to come.
	Years of flying these storms did nothing to prepare us for the heartbreak of the destruction to our community. Many of our crewmembers returned to homes that flooded up to the ceiling (in at least once case, only a slab was left). We dug through the debris to see what could be saved. Pilot Brit holds up his flight suit; the mud is so thick you can barely see the Hurricane Hunter patch on the shoulder, under his hand. Just be glad this website doesn't come to you in "smell-a-vision". Below are the homes of two other crewmembers.