In the middle of experiencing a fierce gale recently I reflected upon our different
attitude towards wind today, when compared with that of our predecessors. We
now live sheltered lives, most of us, in air-conditioned rooms or travelling
around in heated and sealed metal cages, and the wind means little to us. Of
course, those who have encountered an easterly gale in Edinburgh, or even a
northerly one in the bleak canyons south of Euston, may not agree. In urban
situations, as opposed to the open moorland and the seashore, wind is not seriously
to be reckoned with, however.
When Aubert de la Rue published his ‘L’homme et le vent’, of
which an English translation appeared in 1955, the book was acclaimed “the
first book to be written on the winds as they affect mankind”. The author
ventured into a discussion of the many ways in which winds affect human existence
for better or for worse, and produced a surprisingly diverse picture, ranging
from classical antiquity to the present and possibly future.
In Greek mythology the winds were under the command of Aeolus. On occasions
when his instructions to Ulysses were disregarded by that hero’s crew,
adverse winds were liberated which delayed the homecoming of Ulysses by 10 years.
The Romans dedicated temples to the storms (tempestates) and differentiated
the winds in terms of whence they came, just as we do today. In the second century
BC there were eight separate winds recognised. The Etesian winds of the eastern
Mediterranean were depended upon from remote times for trading voyages and fishing.
Despite their dislike of nocturnal sailing, Greek fishermen used to set sail
after sunset to take advantage of the off-shore breeze, and utilise the sea
breeze early in the morning to return to port. The practice survives to this
day among fishermen all over the world.
Sea breezes have usually been regarded as health-giving, although in a work
of Jane Austen those of Portsmouth are pronounced “the ruin of beauty and
health”. A downslope cold wind, sometimes reaching hurricane force, and
met with notably near the mountains of the Adriatic coast, is known as a bora.
The mistral of Provence is another example of a bora, and is often powerful
enough to cause severe material damage to structures. A hot downslope wind called
the föhn has been best documented in the Swiss Alps, where it reputedly
causes severe depression and increases the suicide rate, as well as producing
material damage to property. A hot dry west wind called the chinook plagues
the area surrounding the tributaries of the Missouri river, while in North Africa
a hot wind is called the sirocco. Powerful prevailing winds have been responsible
for shifting enormous deposits of sand or volcanic ash, and shifting dunes are
prominent on exposed sea coasts.
On the positive side, of course, winds have been used by millers and seamen
for ages. The trade winds of the tropics are famous, although the monsoon winds
of Asia are often too powerful for safety. And there is a movement to erect
wind generators on hilltops, which many regard as desecration of the landscape
as well as being doubtfully economic.