Mean maximum average wind speed 38 knots (70km/h), maximum gusts 94 knots (174 km/h). 14 people were killed and 260 injured. 29 ocean-going vessels and 374 fishing boats were damaged or destroyed.
In Nga Choi Hang of North Point, over 50 wooden huts were blown down. In Shau Kei Wan, wooden huts of the Holy Cross Path Village were buried by sand and mud. In Yau Ma Tei, 16 huts on building roof tops were blown down. In Pak Tin Pa Tsuen of Tsuen Wan and the Han Shui Lung Tsuen of Tai Po, more than 10 huts were covered by floodwaters.
The Greek-registered 10 300-tonne vessel, M.V. 'Argonaut', rammed the piers of Star Ferry and went aground alongside the Kowloon Public Pier.
British Pathé film: HONG KONG: TYPHOON HOPE AFTERMATH - British Pathé (britishpathe.com)
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Typhoon Hope - an extract from "The Accidental Prawn" (Kindle)
In the late 70s and early 80s I was in command of uniformed policing in Tsim Sha Tsui. This is an extract from my autobiography "The Accidental Prawn - Interesting Times Policing 20th Century Hong Kong":
Typhoon Hope scored a direct hit on Hong Kong in August 1979. As per PGOs, I withdrew all outdoor duties on the raising of the No 9 signal and I was in the “Mariner’s Rest” Marine Police mess grabbing some lunch when the No 10 hurricane signal went up. We were all amusing ourselves watching a group of people trying to emerge, unsuccessfully, from a Kowloon Park Drive subway and an empty van being blown on its side all the way down the road when I was called to the telephone.
“We have a report of a traffic accident in Chatham Road” says the duty supervisor, my Police Hockey Club stalwart, Graham Houghton. “Take a patrol and attend please.” So I got a sergeant and a couple of PCs into a Land Rover and we left the station. The Land Rover was being buffeted from side to side and we could hardly see anything through the driving rain. The Land Rover then drowned in flood water in Chatham Road so we hitched a ride in the attending ambulance; the ignominy of it! We drove around for a while but could find no sign of an accident. Our Land Rover then appeared, problem solved, and we re-boarded and headed for the station.
En route we then encountered another van on its side and disembarked to assist the trapped driver. I had sensible boots on but a PC had his wellies and a cape on. He ended up on his knees with the cape blown over his head, hanging onto my legs for all he was worth. I was pleased to see no gentlemen from the Oriental Daily News around that day; hardly an edifying spectacle. After rescuing the van driver, off we set again, lunch on all our minds.
However, Graham (always unfailingly polite) then radioed again “SDI TST, please proceed Code 3 to a major incident. A ship has crashed into the Star Ferry Pier.” Wandering what on earth he expected me to do about it, we nevertheless “sped” to the scene. On arrival, we were greeted by the remarkable sight of a large cargo vessel demolishing the east arm of the pier, thankfully passenger-free due to the typhoon. However, this uninvited intrusion onto the premises of this venerable institution had enraged the ancient mariner employed by the company to manage the pier. This moustachioed old Scot, resplendent in Commodore’s cap and white ducks, was screaming Celtic abuse at an uncomprehending Polish captain who had further enraged the Commodore by ordering his men to anchor his ship to the wreckage of the pier. I decided that it would be unwise to intervene let alone arrest anyone, so I called for PTU instead. The pier was closed for weeks pending repair.
Typhoon over, I got a call from Mike Dunning commanding the Kowloon Wharf Police. “Came on down to the docks, there’s something here you might like to see” he said. So I did and Mike showed me a very large lump of multicoloured metal sitting on the dock. It looked like something from a scrap yard. “So?” I asked, “What’s the big deal?” Mike then pointed to a well dressed expat standing in a group nearby. He seemed to be very distressed. Mike explained “That’s a vintage Jaguar XK 120 and that’s the owner!” It had apparently been in the hold of a ship which had broken free from its typhoon mooring in the harbour and spent the entire typhoon steaming up and down the harbour in mountainous seas. The rest of the hold had contained drums of chemicals. End result? A kaleidoscopically coloured lump of junk and a broken-hearted member of the Gentlemen Racers Club.
"The Accidental Prawn" is available on Kindle or as a 2nd edition hard copy from myself: guyshirra@gmail.com