Arrr, Cyclone Zelia be settin' sail fer the shores of Pilbara, ready to stir up some mischief, matey!
2025-02-13
Arrr, matey! A tempest be brewin’ to strike the land this Friday afternoon, blowin’ winds faster than a cannonball at 180 miles! A port vital to the treasure trade be shut tighter than a fish’s lips! Batten down the hatches and prepare for a jolly good swabbin’!
Avast ye scallywags! Gather 'round, fer I be havin' a tale o’ tempestuous times ahead! A fearsome storm, fergin' to unleash its fury, be makin' landfall come Friday afternoon, flutterin' its sails with wind gusts so mighty, they be reachin' a stout 180 miles per hour! Blimey, that be no ordinary squall; that be a right ruckus o' nature's wrath!