HOW TO MEASURE THE RAIN

The utterly brilliant English journalist and witticist Miles Kington (13 May 1941 – 30 January 2008) wrote the following completely perfect description of rain, formerly published on his now-down website which alas I can’t link to now, and I don’t know where else it might be, so I’m putting it up here for your enjoyment.

(Update: it’s here! mileskington.com/The%20… Thank you for finding it, MetalMonkey.)

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“The Beaufort Rain Scale - by Miles Kington

“It has always surprised me that Beaufort worked out his scale for wind, not for rain. Rain, surely, has always been more important to the British and more talked about by us than any other bit of weather. Wet and damp are what we fear most, far more than draughts and breezes, yet nobody as far as I know has had a shot at a Beaufort Rain Scale.

Well, here goes then.

…..

Force 0 - Complete dryness.Absence of rain from the air. The gap between two periods of wet.

Associated phrase: ‘I think it looks like rain.’

Force 1 - Presence of wet in the air, hovering rather than falling. Scotch mist. You can feel the damp on your face, but if you supinate your hand, nothing lands on it.

Associated phrase: ‘I think it looks like rain.’

Force 2 - Individual drops of rain falling, but quite separate as if they are all freelance raindrops and not part of the same corporate effort. If switched on now, windscreen wipers would make an awful screeching noise. Spectacle wearers begin to grumble. Newspapers being read outside begin to speckle.

Associated phrase: ‘It’s spitting.’

Force 3 - Raindrops falling together now, but still invisibly, like the spray which drifts off the fountain with the wind behind. Known as ‘fine rain’. Ignored by all sportsmen except Test cricketers, who dash for cover. Spectacle wearers walk into oncoming traffic. Windscreen wipers, when switched on, make windscreens totally opaque. If being read outside, newspaper gets rising damp.

Associated phrases: ’Is it worth putting the umbrella up?’ ‘Another fine rain you’ve got me into’.

Force 4 - Visible light shower. Hair starts to congeal round ears. First rainwear appears. People start to remember washing left out. Ignored by all sportsmen except Wimbledon players, who sprint for cover. Newspaper being read outside starts to tear slightly.

Associated phrases: ‘It’s starting to come down, now’, ‘It won’t last’, ‘It’s settled in for the day now’.

Force 5 - Drizzle. Shapes beginning to be visible in rain for first time, usually drifting from right to left. Windscreen wipers too slow at low speed, too fast at fast speed. Shower-proof rainwear turns out to be shower-proof all right, but not drizzle-proof. First damp feeling inside either shoes or neckline. Butterflies take evasive action and begin to fly straight. Newspaper being read in the open starts turning to pulp.

Associated phrases: ‘It’s really chucking it down now’, ‘It’s raining cats and dogs’, ‘Nice for the farmers’.

Force 6 - Downpour. You can see raindrops bouncing on impact, like charter planes landing. Leaves and petals recoil when hit. Anything built of concrete starts to look nasty. Eyebrows become waterlogged. Horse racing called off. Wet feeling rises above ankles and starts for knees. Butterflies fly backwards. Newspaper being read in open divides in two. Gardeners watering the flowers start thinking about packing it in.

Associated phrases: It’s coming down in stair rods’, ‘It’s bucketing down’.

Force 7 - Squally, gusty rain. As Force 6, but with added wind. Water starts being forced up your nostrils. Maniacs leave home and head for motorway in their cars. Butterflies start walking. Household cats and dogs become unpleasant to handle. Cheaper clothes start coming to bits.

Associated phrases: ‘It’s pissing down now,’ ‘There’s some madman out in the garden trying to read a newspaper’

Force 8 - Torrential. The whole outside world has been turned into an en suite douche. It starts raining inside umbrellas. Windscreen wipers become useless. The ground looks as if it is steaming. Butterflies drown. Your garments start merging into each other and becoming indistinguishable. Man reading newspaper in the open starts disintegrating. All team games called off except football, rugby and water polo.

Associated phrase: ’Jesus, will you look at that coming down?’

Force 9 - Cloudburst. Rain so fierce that it can only be maintained for a minute or two. Drops so large that they hurt if they hit you. Water gets into pockets and form rock pools. Windscreen wipers are torn off cars. Too wet for water-skiing. Instantaneous rivers form on roads, and man reading a newspaper floats past. Rain runs UP windows.

Associated phrases: ‘It can’t last’, ‘ Is the bedroom window shut?’

Force 10 - Hurricane. Not known in this country – the symptoms are too violent and extreme (cars floating, newspaper readers lost at sea, people drowned by inhaling rain, etc) So if hurricane conditions do appear to pertain, look for some other explanation.

Associated phrases: ‘Oh my God, the water-tank is burst – it’s coming through the kitchen ceiling!’, ‘I think the man upstairs has fallen asleep in his bath,’ etc.”

(Image: Jack Finnigan, Unsplash)