Brooding down the Spanish main
“Shall I see my forces, zounds!
Measured in square inches, pounds?
With detectives at my back
When I double on my track!
All my secret paths made clear!
Published to a hemisphere!
Shall I? Blow me, if I do!”
—Bret Harte
After Joe Duckworth flew into the center of the hurricane near Galveston on July 27, 1943, there was much excitement about the remarkable1 fact that he had experienced no very dangerous weather or damage to his plane on the trip. But the experts realized that hunting hurricanes as a regular business would be different. Men who had flown the weather in the Caribbean and elsewhere in the tropics and subtropics, and those who had just thought about it, had visions of undulating seas stirred by soft tropical breezes, white clouds piled 118 in neat balls on the horizon, blue water, blue sky, and lush palm-covered coasts and islands. And yet they knew that nowhere is the sly trickery of wind and storm more dangerous. Suddenly and with no apparent reason, the soft breezes turn into quick little gusts2 and wrap themselves around a center, with gray clouds spreading and rain coming in brief squalls. The whirl spreads, gathering3 other winds into its orbit, and hard rain begins. Soon there are violent gales4 and the power of the storm is apparent in the roaring of the wind and sea.
And so it is easy to think of a plane in a hurricane as being like an oak leaf in a thunderstorm, except that the leaf is bigger in proportion but lacks the skillful handling of a youthful crew, alert, fearful and resourceful, straining desperately5 to keep it from rocketing steeply into the wind-torn sea below. For these reasons, the men who ventured in 1943 to probe tropical storms by air were exceedingly cautious about it. They went into it at a high level—usually as far up as the plane would go—and came down by easy stages, in the calm center, if possible, ready to turn around and dash for land the moment anything went wrong.
The next after Duckworth and his associates to look into a hurricane was Captain G. H. MacDougall of the Army Air Forces. The second fully6-developed storm of 1943 came from far out in the open Atlantic and passed east of the Windward Islands on a north-northwest course toward Bermuda. MacDougall wanted to have a first-hand view of its insides. Ships in the Atlantic were reporting extremely high winds and waves fifty to sixty feet high and five hundred to six hundred feet in length. MacDougall went to see Colonel Alan, who said he was ready to pilot the plane. So the two took off from Antigua on August 20.
According to the report by MacDougall, they came in at a very high level and began to explore the outer circulation of the storm. He said: “We ran into rain falling from overcast7. 119 There were broken cumulus and stratus clouds below us. As the sun became more and more blotted8 out, we seemed to be heading into a bluish twilight9. In spite of the low visibility due both to rain and moderate haze10, it was impossible to make out the ocean through the wind-torn stratus below, and while we were yet to see the teeth of the storm, the snarl11 was already too evident. A surface wind of forty to fifty miles per hour from the southwest was probably a good estimate in this part of the storm. Colonel Alan now began to let the plane down and we stopped taking oxygen. At the same time, the wheels were let down to minimize the turbulence12, and the plane leveled off at an elevation13 of one thousand feet which was below the stratus.
“For those of us who had spent enough time in the Caribbean to be familiar with the magnitude of the waves usually encountered, it was hard to believe what we saw below. The seas were tremendous and the crests14 were being blown off in long swirls15 by a wind that must easily have exceeded seventy miles per hour. The long parallel streaks16 of foam17 streaming from one wave to another made it evident from which direction the wind was blowing.”
About a month later, a tropical storm formed in the western Gulf18 of Mexico, not far from Vera Cruz. Shortly afterward19, it moved toward the Texas coast, increasing rapidly in force, and there was general alarm. People began to abandon the beaches and protect their property in the coastal20 towns. At this time there was a young officer, Lieutenant21 Paul Ekern, at Tinker Air Field near Oklahoma City, who was anxious to see the inside of one of these big storms. This one looked like his last chance for 1943 and he began talking it up. He found Sergeant22 Jack23 Huennekens who was ready to go and they looked for a plane and pilot. Time went by, but the hurricane center slowed down to a crawl and described a loop off the coast, taking three days to turn 120 around. Excited conversations about the storm created interest, and about the time that Ekern and Huennekens found an Air Force pilot, Captain Griffin, anxious to go, a Navy man came over from Norman, Oklahoma, and said he had some instruments he would like to carry into the hurricane and get records of conditions encountered. He was told that anybody crazy enough to go was welcome. He introduced himself as a Navy Aerologist, Gerald Finger, and they all shook hands and got their things ready.
On the afternoon of the eighteenth, with the hurricane still hanging ominously24 off the coast but with some loss of violence, the crew took off for south Texas, carrying the Navy man and his instruments. They came into the storm area at about thirty thousand feet and proceeded cautiously toward the center. At this level there was very little turbulence, but the view was magnificent. There were mountainous thunderclouds, some extending fifteen thousand feet above the plane. Carefully they explored the region and finally came into a place where they could see the surface of the Gulf white with foam and piled-up clouds ringing a space where the sky was partly clear. This, they decided25, must be the center.
Cautiously they went down to twelve thousand feet, circling around as they descended26, and keeping records of temperature, humidity, and pressure. At times they flew through clouds on instruments in the rain, and now and then there was light icing. After about three hours, they began to run low on gas, so they flew through the western part of the storm and back to Oklahoma.
At the end of the hurricane season, these flights were reported to the Weather Bureau and recommendations were forwarded to the Joint27 Chiefs of Staff that military aircraft be used routinely to explore hurricanes and improve the accuracy of the warnings. The Joint Chiefs referred this to 121 their meteorological committee, with representatives of the Army Air Corps28, the Navy and the Weather Bureau, and on February 15, 1944, a plan was approved for the coming season. As far as possible, crews with experience in flying the weather were selected. Some of these had been on daily missions on the Atlantic, for the protection of convoys29. By the beginning of the 1944 season, planes and men were at their posts in Florida, ready to go on instructions from the joint hurricane center in Miami.
Probing of hurricanes by air came to a sharp focus in September, 1944. On the eighth, signs of a disturbance30 were picked up in the Atlantic, northeast of Puerto Rico. As it approached the northern Bahamas, its central pressure was extremely low, below 27.00 inches—estimated at 26.85—and it covered an enormous area with winds of terrific force. From here its center crossed the extreme eastern tip of North Carolina, sideswiped the New Jersey31 coast, doing vast damage, and then hit Long Island and New England with tremendous fury. On account of the war, ships at sea were not reporting the weather and the hurricane hunters had a real job on their hands.
On the morning of the tenth, Forecaster Norton at the Miami Weather Bureau studied the weather map, grumbled32 about the lack of observations from the West Indies, and decided to ask for a plane to go out and report the weather north of Puerto Rico. He had little to go on, but he thought it was a very bad storm. On the afternoon of the ninth, the Air Corps had sent a plane out from Antigua. They had reported winds of eighty miles, very rough seas, and center about 250 miles northeast of San Juan. Very little information had come from the area since that time, except the regular weather messages from San Juan. After trying to get the Navy office on the telephone half a dozen times, Norton gave up. Every time he started to dial, the 122 phone rang and he answered it, making an effort to hang up quickly and get a call in before it rang again. But many people had learned about the storm and were anxious for more information, hence the phone was constantly busy.
“I thought this was an unlisted phone,” he complained to the map crew. “It is,” replied an assistant. “We gave the number only to the radio, press, and a few others, to make sure we could get a call out when we had to, but these restricted phone numbers leak out. We’ll have to change the number again.”
Norton squeezed between the map man and the wall and sat down at the teletypewriter in the corner after the operator had stepped out into the hall. The office was crowded and when one man wanted to leave his place, nearly everybody else had to stand up to make room. Norton rang a bell, rattled33 the teletypewriter, and finally got Commander Loveland on the line down at the Navy office.
This was an exclusive line—Weather Bureau to Navy—and Norton pecked out a message. “Looks like a bad hurricane out there. It’s maybe three days from Florida if it comes here, but it probably won’t. Looks like it would go up toward the Carolinas. We can’t be sure. Maybe we should have a recco this morning. What do you think?”
“Think we can get one up there from Puerto Rico this morning,” came the message from Loveland. “I’ll see what I can do. Did you check with the Army?”
“Yes, the Major talked to Colonel Ellsworth and he says they expect to get a plane out there from Borinquen this afternoon. Also, I asked for clearance34 on a public message yesterday and got an OK last night.”
At that time, because of the war, public releases about storms along the coast were still restricted and had to be cleared with Naval35 Operations in Washington. If enemy submarines learned that planes were being evacuated36 from airports 123 on the seaboard, they were emboldened37 to come out in the open and attack shipping38 along the coast. Oil tankers39 and other ships would have a bad enough time in the storm without running into submarines openly on the prowl. But the Chiefs of Staff had to balance this against the possible loss of life and property in coastal communities.
On their mission to explore the storm, the Navy crew from Puerto Rico ran into heavy rain and turbulence. Visibility was nil40 as they approached the center. They stayed down low to keep a view of the ocean but found the altimeter badly in error. As soon as they broke out of the clouds, they found the sea was much closer than they had figured. The plane was almost completely out of control several times. They changed course, got out of the storm, sent a message to Miami, and returned to Ramey Field in Puerto Rico.
Steadily41 the hurricane kept on a west-northwest course, increasing in size and violence. As it went along, the aircraft of the Navy and Air Forces were on its heels and driving toward the center, like gnats42 around an angry bull. It was headed for the Carolinas; everybody was agreed on that now. Ships were in trouble, running to get from between the hurricane and the coast as the winds closed in, and anxious people waited for the next report.
At that time, a hurricane was thought to have four stages of existence. First was the formation stage, often with circulatory winds and rain developing in a pressure wave coming westward43 over the Atlantic or Caribbean. Second, it quickly concentrated into a small but very violent whirl and, over a relatively44 small area, had the most violent winds of its existence. In this stage it might not have been more than one hundred miles in diameter. Third, it became a mature storm, spreading out, and although its winds did not become any more violent, they spread over a much larger area, maybe as much as three hundred miles, or more, in diameter. Fourth 124 was the stage of decay, when it began to lose its almost circular shape and the winds began to diminish. Now it went off to the northward45 and became an extra-tropical storm or struck inland in the south and died with torrential rains and squally winds.
This hurricane seemed to be an exception. As it spread out to cover a bigger area, its winds seemed to develop greater fury. A Navy plane went in as it approached the Carolinas and found extreme turbulence, winds estimated at 140 miles an hour, torrential rain that penetrated46 the airplane, and no visibility through the splatter and smear47 on the windows. And when the stalwart crew came down below the clouds, the sea was a welter of foam, with gusts wiping the tops off waves that reached up to tremendous heights.
While no planes were lost in probing this terrible storm, a destroyer, a mine sweeper, two Coast Guard cutters, and a light vessel48 were sunk. An Army plane estimated the winds at 140 miles an hour. The weather officer, Lieutenant Victor Klobucher, said that it was the worst storm that had been probed by the hurricane hunters up to that time. The turbulence was so bad that, with both the pilot and co-pilot straining every muscle, the plane could not be kept under control, and several times they thought it would be torn apart or crash into the sea. On returning to the base, the fliers found that 150 rivets49 had been sheared50 off one wing alone.
On the morning of the fourteenth of September, the terrible tempest was close to the eastern tip of North Carolina, apparently51 destined52 to sideswipe the coast from there northward with devastating53 force. There was some alarm in Washington. It might possibly turn more to the northward and its center might come up Chesapeake Bay or up the Potomac River. A violent storm in Washington at that time would have been detrimental54 to the prosecution56 of war 125 plans. In 1933, a smaller hurricane had taken this course and its destructive visit to the Bay region and the Capital had not been forgotten. Also, in the minds of the military was the opportunity offered that day to explore a big hurricane and find out more concerning its inner workings.
On that critical morning, Colonel F. B. Wood, a veteran flyer in the Air Corps, came down to Bolling Field outside Washington with hurricane-probing on his mind. After talking about it to the men around the field, he decided to try a flight at least into the outer edges of the storm as it passed to the eastward57 during the day. He thought about the junior officers and men being sent into these furious winds and he felt it was a good idea for one of the head men to go out and see what it was like.
Wood talked to Lieutenant Frank Record and found he was anxious to go. He grabbed the telephone and got Major Harry58 Wexler on the line. Harry was a Weather Bureau research official who was in the Army for the duration.
“Harry, how about taking you out in the hurricane today?” Wood asked. “I’ll pilot the plane. Frank is going along.”
“Sure you can take me out, but you’ve got to bring me back,” Harry answered. “This is a round trip, Floyd, I hope.” Wood agreed to do his best to make a round trip out of it.
At two o’clock that afternoon, the trio took off and headed east with some misgivings59. They knew that this was one of the worst tropical storms that had been charted up to that time. The hurricane was then centered near Cape60 Henry, Virginia. The wind at Norfolk had been up to ninety miles an hour. Colonel Wood described it as follows:
“Immediately after take-off, we penetrated a thin overcast, the top of which was about fifteen hundred feet, and then proceeded to a point approximately twenty miles northeast of Langley Field. The boundary of the hurricane, as 126 seen from the latter location, was a dense62 black wall running along the western edge of the Chesapeake Bay. The airplane was turned on a heading so as to fly a track that would lead straight toward the estimated position of the center of the hurricane. Altitude was three thousand feet. A drift correction of 30° was allowed to account for the estimated one hundred miles per hour cross wind encountered at the outer edge of the storm. Immediately on entering the outer edge, the atmosphere turned very dark and a blanket of heavy rainfall was encountered.”
Very surprisingly, the flyers reported that in this area a strong but steady down-current was also encountered. The latter was contrary to the accepted idea that all of the area encompassed63 by the steep pressure fall in a hurricane contains ascending64 rather than descending65 air up to great heights. Although visibility was very low, due to the heavy rainfall, there were very few clouds below the altitude of the airplane (three thousand feet), except for some scud66 over Cape Henry.
The waves in Chesapeake Bay were enormous. A freighter plowing67 through the Bay was being swept from bow to stern by huge waves which at times appeared to engulf68 the whole vessel at once. Spray was being thrown into the air at heights which appeared to reach two hundred feet above the surface of the Bay. From the appearance of the water, both within Chesapeake Bay and east of Cape Henry, it is not surprising that a Navy destroyer of the 1850-ton class was sunk there. One of the foremost thoughts in the men’s minds at the time was that should the aircraft be forced down in the hurricane, neither life rafts, “Mae Wests,” or any other lifesaving device would have saved them from drowning!
The flight was continued on toward the assumed position of the center of the hurricane. Although the downdraft continued strong, very little turbulence was encountered. The 127 airplane lost a speed of about seventy miles per hour in the necessary climb required to make up for the downward motion of the air. The heavy rain continued. At a point approximately fifty to sixty miles inward from the outer edge of the hurricane, they suddenly entered an area of rising air. This area also contained fairly dense clouds below, but very thin clouds above. The sun was visible through the thin clouds overhead. They seemed to be on the edge of the center. The vertical69 air movement was of such magnitude that the airplane was lifted from the three thousand foot level to five thousand feet before power could be reduced and the airplane nosed downward. Turbulence in this area was also considerably70 more severe than in the zone of descending air just passed through, but was not of such severity as to endanger the flight.
Although the flight was continued for a few minutes on toward the point where the center of the hurricane was thought to be, the conditions of flight remained constant; that is, moderate turbulence, rising air, and the sun faintly visible through the thin clouds overhead. The men thought they were off to one side or other of the center, but not finding it, and not knowing the direction in which to fly to locate it exactly, the airplane was turned around and flown on a track which was estimated would lead toward Norfolk. An altitude of five thousand feet was maintained on the way out. The dark band of descending air and heavy rainfall was traversed in the reverse order as during the incoming flight. They emerged from the hurricane at a point approximately thirty miles east-northeast of Norfolk.
Afterward, Colonel Wood felt more confident about junior officers flying into hurricanes, but there were many questions yet to be answered. Incidentally, the three men in this plane and the members of the squadron who flew into the 128 same hurricane from Miami were awarded the Air Medal in February, 1945, for their bravery in these flights.
Colonel Wood drew the following conclusions:
“Although one of the more important points indicated by our experience during the aforementioned flight is that hurricanes can very probably be successfully flown through after they have reached temperate71 latitudes73, it should not be accepted as conclusive74 proof that all hurricanes may be flown through. Although there have been several instances of flights into hurricanes before they migrated out of the tropical regions, it is not known whether, at the times the flights were made, any of these storms were of an intensity75 that even approached the maximum possible. Further, it is not known for certain whether the hurricane that passed along the Virginia coast on the fourteenth of September is typical of all hurricanes once they reach temperate latitudes. Indications are that this hurricane was about as severe as they ever get to be at these latitudes, but insufficient76 flying experience in hurricanes has been obtained to determine conclusively77 that all hurricanes in temperate latitudes are safe to fly through. Any pilot who in the future might desire to repeat the experience referred to in this statement is advised that any hurricane should be approached gingerly and with a view toward making an immediate61 180° change in his track, should severe turbulence, hail, or severe thunderstorm activity be encountered.
“It is believed that the method of examining a hurricane by flight reconnaissance that would produce the most revealing results is to attempt an approach to it from the stratosphere. It is thought, further, that such a flight could be made over the outer rim55 of the hurricane and a let-down into the center or hollow eye of the storm be made with complete safety. A record of the temperature at various 129 flight levels while descending through the central (hollow) portion of the storm, together with photographs of the cloud structure, would be of tremendous value.”
In October there was another hurricane in Florida. It began in the western Caribbean on the thirteenth and crossed western Cuba on the seventeenth. On the south coast the hurricane winds created an enormous tide. More than three hundred people were killed, and a Standard Oil Company barge78 was carried ten miles inland. When the big winds roared across Florida on the eighteenth and nineteenth, it was a severe storm with a calm center that was at one time about seventy miles long.
As it drove violent winds and seas toward Florida, an airline company, Transcontinental & Western Air, decided to investigate and sent an experienced pilot, Captain Robert Buck79, in a B-17, to fly through and observe the weather and electrical phenomena80 in the storm. Of course, he considered the flight hazardous81 but he was willing. Any person who had experienced the violent winds of these storms or read about their destructive effects was likely to assume that a plane at low levels in the middle part of the storm might have its wings torn off.
Buck started to climb into the edge of the storm at Alma, Georgia, going in warily82 at four thousand feet and finding only light to moderate turbulence from there to nine thousand feet, after which it became smoother. This was in accordance with the reports of other fliers who had ventured in at high levels, and he was reassured83.
At eleven thousand feet the rain changed to sleet84. This was not unexpected. Ordinarily it is much colder at such a height than at the ground. The temperature drops about one degree for each rise of three hundred feet. Although the plane was flying in instrument conditions and “blind,” there 130 were no ordinary water-cloud particles, but simply haze and sleet.
At 12,700 feet, with the temperature at the freezing point, the plane flew through moderate to heavy snow with very large flakes85. The climb was continued and the snow remained moderate, but as the altitude increased, the size of the snowflakes decreased. The air was perfectly86 smooth, with the exception of about one minute of light turbulence at 16,000 feet. During the entire climb no ice was encountered, but there were a few patches of snow sticking on the airplane. This was definitely not ice. Due to loss of radio reception on all receivers, including the loop, it was difficult to obtain the wind accurately87. It was estimated to be easterly at approximately eighty-five miles an hour, to about 16,000 feet, where it changed to westerly with about the same velocity88.
At 19,400 feet, the temperature had dropped to 27°. At 22,800 feet, the snow was light and fine and the temperature was 18°. The temperature had dropped to 14° at 24,600 feet.
At 25,000 feet, the plane broke out of the side of the storm near the top. At 25,800 feet, the plane was flying in the clear where the temperature was 18°. During the entire climb from 9,500 feet to 25,000 feet, no fog was encountered, only particles of snow.
Near Jacksonville, Florida, the tops of the clouds dropped sharply to 8,000 feet. The plane flew east out to sea to check the eastern side of the storm and, satisfied that Jacksonville was close to the storm’s center, proceeded to the coast again and to Daytona Beach, where the craft landed.
Pilot Buck concluded that the paramount89 danger lies in an aircraft becoming lost, due to the failure of radio navigation caused by static, coupled with the high winds. He said that a tropical storm of the type flown is not hazardous to aircraft 131 in respect to structural90 failure and loss of control, if an altitude of over approximately 8,000 feet is held.
In December, all the men connected with the hurricane warning service in the Army, Navy, Weather Bureau and other agencies—including the top officials, the forecasters, the men who directed the flights, the pilots, weather officers, and others who made up the crews, the radio men on shore, and the Coast Guard people—were fully represented in a conference in Washington. Here they all went over their experiences and offered every possible suggestion for improving the service. Many things were needed, but two tough problems worried everybody.
One was how the crew could find out where they were in latitude72 and longitude91 or in distance and direction from some point on an island or on the coast after they found the center of the storm. After all, the weather observer, navigator, and the radio man might figure out how to get in the eye, and the plane might get into it, but if they failed to get their position accurately, the information was of doubtful value. This nearly always depended on radio signals from distant shore stations, for it was seldom that they could get a celestial92 fix as a mate does on a ship at sea. The second problem was communications—how to get the weather message off and be sure it had been received at a shore radio station, and see also that it reached the forecast offices promptly93. All of this had many sources of delay. In a hurricane, the atmospherics were often excessive. At times the radio man on the plane could hear nothing but loud static in his ear phones. He was powerless to do anything except to send “blind” and hope somebody would receive it and understand what it was. Slowly these problems were solved in part as time went on.
点击收听单词发音
1 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 gusts | |
一阵强风( gust的名词复数 ); (怒、笑等的)爆发; (感情的)迸发; 发作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 gathering | |
n.集会,聚会,聚集 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 gales | |
龙猫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 desperately | |
adv.极度渴望地,绝望地,孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 overcast | |
adj.阴天的,阴暗的,愁闷的;v.遮盖,(使)变暗,包边缝;n.覆盖,阴天 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 blotted | |
涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 ); (用吸墨纸)吸干 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 twilight | |
n.暮光,黄昏;暮年,晚期,衰落时期 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 haze | |
n.霾,烟雾;懵懂,迷糊;vi.(over)变模糊 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 snarl | |
v.吼叫,怒骂,纠缠,混乱;n.混乱,缠结,咆哮 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 turbulence | |
n.喧嚣,狂暴,骚乱,湍流 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 elevation | |
n.高度;海拔;高地;上升;提高 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 crests | |
v.到达山顶(或浪峰)( crest的第三人称单数 );到达洪峰,达到顶点 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 swirls | |
n.旋转( swirl的名词复数 );卷状物;漩涡;尘旋v.旋转,打旋( swirl的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 streaks | |
n.(与周围有所不同的)条纹( streak的名词复数 );(通常指不好的)特征(倾向);(不断经历成功或失败的)一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 );使布满条纹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 foam | |
v./n.泡沫,起泡沫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 coastal | |
adj.海岸的,沿海的,沿岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 lieutenant | |
n.陆军中尉,海军上尉;代理官员,副职官员 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 sergeant | |
n.警官,中士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 jack | |
n.插座,千斤顶,男人;v.抬起,提醒,扛举;n.(Jake)杰克 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 ominously | |
adv.恶兆地,不吉利地;预示地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 joint | |
adj.联合的,共同的;n.关节,接合处;v.连接,贴合 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 corps | |
n.(通信等兵种的)部队;(同类作的)一组 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 convoys | |
n.(有护航的)船队( convoy的名词复数 );车队;护航(队);护送队 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 jersey | |
n.运动衫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 grumbled | |
抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 ); 发牢骚; 咕哝; 发哼声 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 rattled | |
慌乱的,恼火的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 clearance | |
n.净空;许可(证);清算;清除,清理 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 naval | |
adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 evacuated | |
撤退者的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 emboldened | |
v.鼓励,使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 shipping | |
n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 tankers | |
运送大量液体或气体的轮船[卡车]( tanker的名词复数 ); 油轮; 罐车; 油槽车 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 nil | |
n.无,全无,零 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 gnats | |
n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 westward | |
n.西方,西部;adj.西方的,向西的;adv.向西 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 relatively | |
adv.比较...地,相对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 northward | |
adv.向北;n.北方的地区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 penetrated | |
adj. 击穿的,鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 smear | |
v.涂抹;诽谤,玷污;n.污点;诽谤,污蔑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 vessel | |
n.船舶;容器,器皿;管,导管,血管 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 rivets | |
铆钉( rivet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 sheared | |
v.剪羊毛( shear的过去式和过去分词 );切断;剪切 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 devastating | |
adj.毁灭性的,令人震惊的,强有力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 detrimental | |
adj.损害的,造成伤害的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 rim | |
n.(圆物的)边,轮缘;边界 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 prosecution | |
n.起诉,告发,检举,执行,经营 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 eastward | |
adv.向东;adj.向东的;n.东方,东部 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 harry | |
vt.掠夺,蹂躏,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 misgivings | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕;疑虑,担心,恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 );疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 cape | |
n.海角,岬;披肩,短披风 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 dense | |
a.密集的,稠密的,浓密的;密度大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 encompassed | |
v.围绕( encompass的过去式和过去分词 );包围;包含;包括 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 ascending | |
adj.上升的,向上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 scud | |
n.疾行;v.疾行 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 plowing | |
v.耕( plow的现在分词 );犁耕;费力穿过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 engulf | |
vt.吞没,吞食 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 vertical | |
adj.垂直的,顶点的,纵向的;n.垂直物,垂直的位置 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 temperate | |
adj.温和的,温带的,自我克制的,不过分的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 latitude | |
n.纬度,行动或言论的自由(范围),(pl.)地区 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 latitudes | |
纬度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 conclusive | |
adj.最后的,结论的;确凿的,消除怀疑的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 insufficient | |
adj.(for,of)不足的,不够的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 conclusively | |
adv.令人信服地,确凿地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 barge | |
n.平底载货船,驳船 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 buck | |
n.雄鹿,雄兔;v.马离地跳跃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 phenomena | |
n.现象 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 hazardous | |
adj.(有)危险的,冒险的;碰运气的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 warily | |
adv.留心地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 reassured | |
adj.使消除疑虑的;使放心的v.再保证,恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 sleet | |
n.雨雪;v.下雨雪,下冰雹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 flakes | |
小薄片( flake的名词复数 ); (尤指)碎片; 雪花; 古怪的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 accurately | |
adv.准确地,精确地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 velocity | |
n.速度,速率 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 paramount | |
a.最重要的,最高权力的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 structural | |
adj.构造的,组织的,建筑(用)的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 longitude | |
n.经线,经度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 celestial | |
adj.天体的;天上的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |