Getting Inside California’s Wild Weather 8 Miles
Over the Pacific
A Times reporter and photographer rode along with a
team gathering data on the colossal atmospheric rivers that have drenched the
state.
By Raymond
ZhongPhotographs by Erin Schaff
Jan. 14,
2023
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/14/climate/california-atmospheric-river-noaa.html
ABOARD A
GULFSTREAM IV, over the Pacific — The winter storms pounding California this
month have often come into being thousands of miles to the west, in the moist
air above the Pacific.
That has
given a group of scientists and technicians a few days before one blows ashore
to examine satellite readings, run computer models and plan crews and
equipment, all of which culminates in a uniquely full-contact effort to
understand these storms’ inner workings: By dropping sensors into them from the
sky.
This week,
aboard a Gulfstream IV jet that was streaking toward Alaska as a giant storm
seethed miles below, an engineer gave a quick countdown: “Sonde’s out in 5, 4,
3, 2 …”
A hatch in
the plane’s belly sprang open. The sonde, a tube of instruments about the size
of a model rocket, was sucked out into the frigid air and began plummeting
toward the clouds, where it would investigate the storm’s innards and transmit
its findings to the world.
Atmospheric
rivers have caused weeks of flooding, power outages and evacuations up and down
California and killed at least 18 people. But the devastation would almost
certainly be even greater were it not for the weather forecasts that roll in
before each storm. Emergency responders, dam operators and farmers now have
piles of rapidly updated information at their fingertips about where these
storms are headed, how soon they might arrive, and how much rain and snow they
could bring when they get there.
Assembling
those predictions still begins, however, by getting close to the action. The
West Coast’s atmospheric rivers spend their early days over huge, empty
expanses of the Pacific. No network of weather stations is collecting detailed
information about their approach, as is possible for storms traveling over
land. Clouds can obstruct satellite measurements, and drifting buoys mostly
gauge conditions near the ocean’s surface.
A program
called Atmospheric River Reconnaissance, or AR Recon, is trying to plug this
data void. It is led by scientists at the Center for Western Weather and Water
Extremes, part of the Scripps Institution of Oceanography at the University of
California, San Diego.
AR Recon is
partly a research initiative, but since 2019 it has also been part of the
federal government’s winter meteorological operations, with support from the
Air Force and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. This winter,
AR Recon started flying missions earlier than ever, in November, to sample more
of the early-season storms that have caused devastating flooding on the Pacific
Coast in recent years.
The data
these planes gather is part of a series of advancements in weather forecasting
and the computer models behind it.
Richard
Henning, a NOAA flight meteorologist who serves as a flight director with AR
Recon, has flown research missions with the agency and Air Force for nearly 30
years. He used an analogy to describe how well weather models predicted the
future back then: If you asked them what an acorn would look like someday,
their answer would essentially be “a much bigger acorn,” he said.
Today, they
would show you an oak tree. “That’s literally the difference in the
sophistication of the models.”
Still, the
reliance on crewed flights means this high-tech work can hit low-tech snags. In
December, the Gulfstream IV had to be sent to St. Louis to fix a fuel
indicator, forcing AR Recon to cancel several flights in the week before an
atmospheric river hit California late last month.
The next
storm, on New Year’s Eve, was forecast to be moderate in Northern California.
But it ended up stalling and dumping buckets of rain over a stretch of the
region. At least three people died in the flooding. San Francisco nearly broke
its record for single-day rainfall.
One reason
the predictions were off, according to Michael Anderson, California’s state
climatologist, might have been that AR Recon hadn’t flown the week before. The
program was on a scheduled holiday break.
Scientists
are still trying to better understand the features that can cause atmospheric
rivers to intensify at the 11th hour, Dr. Anderson said. “Getting better at
being able to forecast those, and getting the detail down to the watershed
scale, is really where we want to get to.”
F. Martin
Ralph, a Scripps scientist who helps lead AR Recon, acknowledged that although
the program got an early start this winter, it didn’t have the staff, funding
and aircraft availability to collect data during the holiday period. “Now we’re
learning the lesson, sadly, that we really should aim to have full coverage” of
the rainy season, he said.
Each AR
Recon flight begins with scientists and officials convening virtually and in a
San Diego conference room to draw up a plan of attack. It was Wednesday.
Another river of moisture was barreling toward California. A big one.
With only
three aircraft at their disposal — the NOAA Gulfstream and two Air Force C-130s
— the mission planners have to be strategic. They conduct analyses to determine
where extra data from inside an atmospheric river might be most useful for
improving forecasts, then they chart flight paths to hit those spots
economically.
With the
forecasts before any storm, “very small errors have the potential to grow to
make a precipitation forecast really off,” said Anna M. Wilson, a scientist at Scripps
and AR Recon’s mission director for the past week.
Early the
next morning, a small team from NOAA, plus a reporter, a photographer and
another scientist from Scripps, set off in the Gulfstream from Honolulu.
The
mission: fly roughly 1,500 miles almost straight north, toward the Aleutian
Islands in Alaska, before doubling back. This would allow the plane to cross
two separate sections of the atmospheric river’s moisture-laden core as it
swept east. And flying at an altitude of 41,000 feet to 45,000 feet would let
the plane sample both the storm itself and the jet stream, whose powerful winds
help shape the system’s course. Total flight time: about eight hours.
Heavy racks
of gear have been installed throughout the cabin with artful efficiency. A
tail-mounted Doppler radar estimates how quickly the moisture is moving below.
A GPS receiver measures how much satellite signals are refracted in the air to
estimate the properties of the atmosphere around the sides of the plane.
Then there
are the sondes, which cost about $800 each. The crew dropped more than 30 of
them during Thursday’s flight, spacing them out to sample a wide section of the
atmospheric river.
The data is
transmitted to a global repository that feeds weather forecasts around the
globe. But the first to see it are the onboard meteorologists, whose screens
dance with colorful squiggles representing wind speed and direction,
temperature and humidity — each sonde’s proof of life during its unimaginably
chaotic 15-minute dive toward the sea.
Information
from the sondes has begun to prove its value for making atmospheric river
forecasts more accurate. Scientists have used the same computer model to
generate one forecast that incorporates the data and another that does not,
then compared both of them with a storm’s real-world effects. In some cases,
they have found improvements in forecasts of up to 25 percent.
“That is
unheard-of,” said Vijay S. Tallapragada, a senior scientist with NOAA’s Environmental
Modeling Center who helps lead AR Recon. “If you look at the history of
forecast improvements for precipitation, they were stagnant for the last 20
years.”
At the
G-IV’s high cruising altitude, the serene blue skies struck an odd contrast with
the unseen turmoil beneath the clouds. Luca Delle Monache, a scientist at
Scripps, explained how artificial intelligence might someday improve forecasts
even more. By scouring data on the mistakes a model had made in the past, A.I.
techniques could augment its predictions going forward.
Years ago,
Dr. Delle Monache got into this field because he loved the idea of using math
to peer into the future. The math keeps getting more sophisticated, but the
goal remains the same.
“The magic
of telling you what is going to happen tomorrow — that always fascinated me,”
he said.
Raymond
Zhong is a climate reporter. He joined The Times in 2017 and was part of the
team that won the 2021 Pulitzer Prize in public service for coverage of the
coronavirus pandemic. @zhonggg
Erin Schaff
is a staff photographer for The Times, based in Washington.




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