The weather was great and terrible today. When I went to Harbor Control at 6 a.m. there was lightning in all directions, probably a flash every minute or two. [From a meteorologist's perspective, that's great.] If you recall, lightning is extremely rare in most oceanic regions, including Kwaj. This is the first time that I've seen more than a flash or two in a given storm at Kwaj. As I sat in Harbor Control talking to the team at Woja, a cumulonimbus off to the west put on a really nice display for about 20 minutes. Such activity indicates that there must have been some upper-level forcing in addition to the usual surface effects. I got drenched riding from Operations Center to Building 1009 fortunately as the result of a storm that didn't have lightning. Oh well, I had switched to flip-flops and had on my raincoat, so what got wet was "drip-dry" for the most part. It's warm and humid enough here that it didn't feel cold when I got wet.

The terrible part came later (again, from our very warped perspective). The TRMM satellite passed almost directly over Kwaj at 4:50 p.m. local time, and by then the convection had dwindled to almost nothing over the entire radar scope. We sent the airplanes up on the hopes that something would develop about overpass time, just because such a good overpass is so rare. Some members of the project have started to joke about the curse of the PR (the precipitation radar on the TRMM satellite), saying that the weather "knows" whenever the satellite is looking and that it hides. The aircraft scientists were fairly satisfied with the data that they managed to get from several lines of small clouds, but we continue to look for a big rain system to happen during overpass.

The forecast for tomorrow carries only minimal precipitation, so we are planning on a day with no flights. The increased pace of flights the last few days and the corrosive salt air have really taken a toll on the aircraft instruments. If you just casually glance at a research aircraft you might miss the small probes, domes, and windows that collect the scientific data, yet they are the whole reason for the aircraft's presence in the project. One instrument uses a high-quality window that has special coatings. It turns out that the salt air eats away the coatings in about ten days and the window becomes useless. Right now the team is down to their last window. Several other instruments are getting drenched on the inside at some point during every mission, even circuit boards in a few cases. So, after each flight some of the instruments must be pulled out of the aircraft, dried, and replaced. Usually there is some alignment and calibration that must be done at that point, so the instrument teams are working some long hours. Also, both the Citation and Convair were struck by lightning yesterday. All in all, a day for recuperation seems wise. The radiosonde teams would also appreciate a light schedule, although even on boring days we launch a minimum of two sondes a day. These launches at 0000 and 1200 UTC follow the international convention for standard observing times.

The day ended on a domestic note as I made a trip downstairs to do laundry. Even though the building in which we're currently staying is past its prime, the washers and dryers are fairly new and work well. Everyone in our group is hanging around the laundry room while their clothes run because one of the students lost a whole washer load (basically the clothes he brought). He was back in the laundry tonight, and I suggested he could let the rest of us stand guard, but he wanted no part of it!

George Huffman