The Philosophy of the Weather. And a Guide to Its Changes

by T. B. Butler

The local clouds lay over the island every day, as they do over active volcanic islands which are very elevated, although it was the dry season. Nothing like an ascent of the clouds or of the currents of air from the ocean was observed. On the contrary, the clouds formed before the sea breezes set in, and the latter blew from the different sides of the island in under the clouds, and outward again, probably on the opposite side. The whole interior of the island is elevated, and its temperature low; and there was no elevation of temperature on the high portions of the island over which the clouds formed, and toward which the winds blew, which could create an upward current.

“During our stay on the summit, we took much pleasure and interest in watching the various movements of the clouds; this day in particular, they attracted our attention; the whole island beneath us was covered with a dense white mass, in the center of which was the cloud of the volcano rising like an immense dome. All was motionless until the hour arrived when the sea-breeze set in from the different sides of the island; a motion was then seen in the clouds, at the opposite extremities, both of which seemed apparently moving toward the same center, in undulations, until they became quite compact, and so contracted in space as to enable us to see a well defined horizon; at the same time there was a wind from the mountain, at right angles, that was affecting the mass, and drawing it asunder in the opposite direction. The play of these masses was at times in circular orbits, as they became influenced alternately by the different forces, until the whole was passing to and from the center in every direction, assuming every variety of form, shape and motion.

“On other days clouds would approach us from the S. W. when we had a strong N. E. trade-wind blowing, coming up with cumulus front, reaching the height of about eight thousand feet, spreading horizontally, and then dissipating. At times they would be seen lying over the island in large horizontal sheets as white as the purest snow, with a sky above of the deepest azure blue that fancy can depict. I saw nothing in it approaching to blackness at any time.” (Exploring Expedition, vol iv. p. 155).

Here, in the last paragraph, we have the whole truth disclosed. The N. E. trade was blowing on Mauna Loa, 13,000 feet above the sea, and the sea-breeze blew in on the leeward side, its moisture condensing over the volcanic island, but without rising up the mountain, or through the surface-trade, or above 8,000 feet.

So, too, the celebrated aeronaut, Mr. Wise, in the course of more than a hundred ascensions, some during high wind, and others during rain storms, never met with an ascending current, except in a single instance, in the body of a hail-cloud, and then there were descending currents also, the usual intestine motion of hail-cloud with its opposite polarities.

I copy a description of his passage through the clouds of a rain-storm, and his floating a long period above them; and there was no ascending current which disturbed their horizontal repose or progression. The double layer is not uncommon—condensation taking place at the connection of the upper and lower portions of the trades, with the surrounding atmosphere; or in the trade, and by induction in the surface atmosphere at the same time. Such instances are frequently visible, and if his ascensions had been undertaken at other times in stormy weather he would have seen more of them.

“Before I passed the limits of the borough, a parachute, containing an animal, was dropped, which descended fast and steady, and, just as it reached the earth, my ærial ship entered a dense black body of clouds. Ten minutes were consumed in penetrating this dismal ocean of rainy vapor, occasionally meeting with great chasms, ravines, and defiles, of different shades of light and darkness. When I emerged from this ocean of clouds, a new and wonderfully magnificent scene greeted my eyes. A faint sunshine shed its warmth and luster over the surface of this vast cloud sea. The balloon rose more rapidly after it got above it. Viewing it from an elevation above the surface, I discovered it to present the same shape of the earth beneath, developing mountains and valleys, corresponding to those on the earth’s surface. The profile of the cloud-surface was more depressed than that on the earth, and, in the distance of the cloud-valley a magnificent sight presented itself. Pyramids and castles, rocks and reefs, icebergs and ships, towers and domes—every thing belonging to the grand and magnificent could be seen in this distant harbor; the half-obscured sun shedding his mellow light upon it, gave it a rich and dazzling luster. They were really “castles in the air,” formed of the clouds. Casting my eyes upward, I was astonished in beholding another cloud-stratum, far above the lower one; it was what is commonly termed a “mackerel sky,” the sun faintly shining through it. The balloon seemed to be stationary; the clouds above and below appeared to be quiescent; the air castles, in the distance, stood to their places; silence reigned supreme; it was solemnly sublime. Solitary and alone in a mansion of the skies, my very soul swelled with emotion; I had no companion to pour out my feelings to. Great God, what a scene of grandeur! Such were my thoughts; a reverence for the works of nature, an admiration indescribable. The solemn grandeur—the very stillness that surrounded me—seemed to make a sound of praise.

“This was a scene such that I never beheld one before or after exactly like it. Two perfect layers of clouds, one not a mile above the earth; the other, about a mile higher; and, between the two, a clear atmosphere, in the midst of which the balloon stood quietly in space. It was, indeed, a strange sight—a meteorological fact, which we cannot possibly see or make ourselves acquainted with, without soaring above the surface of the earth.” (History and Practice of Aeronautics, p. 209).

This is graphic. Perhaps in relation to the conformity of the upper surface of the inferior layer of clouds, to the irregularities of the earth’s surface, he was misled during the enthusiasm of the moment. He is certainly mistaken as to the possibility of observing these double layers from the earth; I have seen them in hundreds of instances. But in relation to the quiescence of the clouds for an hour, and the entire absence of ascending currents, he could not be mistaken.

And now, in the absence of all direct proof to sustain the hypothesis, that the heating of the land produces ascending currents, and thereby the winds, and especially the monsoons, and in view of all the adverse evidence, I put it to Lieutenant Maury, and every sincere searcher after meteorological truth, whether the theory should not be abandoned.