Hong Kong — Typhoon Ragasa forced this city into one of its rare, full-scale shutdowns on Wednesday as the Hong Kong Observatory hoisted the Hurricane Signal No. 10 and hurricane-force gusts drove seawater into coastal shops, hotels, and ferry piers. The storm then curved west toward Guangdong’s refinery belt, where authorities evacuated large populations and warned of dangerous storm surges along the Pearl River Delta. By nightfall, conditions in Hong Kong had eased enough for forecasters to begin stepping warnings down, but the cleanup, flight backlog, and regional flood risk signaled a longer recovery arc across southern China.
The escalation through the city’s warning ladder was unusually rapid, with Signal No. 8 and Signal No. 9 giving way to the highest alert before the downgrade began. For readers tracking the official sequence, the Typhoon Ragasa Signal No. 10 timeline collates the bulletins, and the Hong Kong Observatory tropical cyclone warning system explains what each stage means for wind speeds and risk. Within the city, commuters stayed home, construction cranes were secured, and glass-fronted lobbies were reinforced as white-capped waves curled over seawalls from Chai Wan to Stanley.
At the airport, Ragasa produced a full stop that will echo through the week’s timetables. With the highest warning in force, landings and departures were suspended across multiple banks of long-haul and regional flights. For live status once operations phase back in, passengers should rely on Hong Kong airport arrivals and airline portals rather than aggregators. Cathay’s operations team indicated a staggered restart, and travelers can check Cathay Pacific flight status and delay and cancellation advisories for rebooking windows.
Reuters reported that the city’s carriers pre-positioned jets across Asia and beyond, and that an unprecedented pause stretched across roughly a day and a half as winds peaked and inspections began, with a broad evacuation of fleets to safer airfields. Hong Kong’s 36-hour flight halt for specifics on aircraft movements and resumption plans.
Across the harbor, surface transit ran in fragments. Underground rail segments provided limited, storm-condition service, while open-air sections paused as gusts exceeded safe operating thresholds. The MTR’s practice is clear: when Signal 8, 9, or 10 is in force, open sections suspend and underground stretches run at reduced frequency. Riders can consult MTR services under Signal 8-10 for the operating framework that governs storm days. Ferries shuttered early, particularly routes exposed to cross-harbor fetch and swell, consistent with Star Ferry suspension policy under Signal 8, and trams paused along the north shore of Hong Kong Island.
Hospitals reported a steady stream of storm-related injuries, mostly minor cuts from shattered glass or slips on flooded walkways. Government shelters, opened ahead of the peak, offered cots to residents from older low-rise buildings and to those living in shoreline neighborhoods where wind fields align with tide cycles. Power crews tackled scattered outages, but the grid and substation network—hardened after past storms—kept the bulk of districts illuminated.
The regional story shifted west as Ragasa angled toward Guangdong’s industrial coastline, where authorities warned of surge stacking on estuary tides and freshwater runoff. Forecast notes from the China Meteorological Administration’s World Meteorological Centre in Beijing tracked the center’s approach and the persistence of a broad wind field; see the China Meteorological Administration forecast for Ragasa. In parallel, the Joint Typhoon Warning Center updated track and wind-radius guidance for mariners and airlines.
In Shenzhen, gusts tore at scaffolds and peeled back temporary roofing on construction sites, a familiar sight in a skyline under near-constant rebuild. Floodwater pooled rapidly under flyovers and in poorly graded intersections, then retreated as squalls passed and pumps caught up. Along the border, cross-boundary rail service was suspended into Hong Kong until crews could remove debris, inspect catenary systems, and verify that embankments and drainage channels had not been undercut by scouring.
Macau’s compact peninsula and the Cotai strip, laced with canals and lagoons, braced behind surge doors and movable barriers, with civil defense bulletins referencing typhoon signals and water-level alerts from the meteorological bureau. Residents follow Macao typhoon signals and track pages such as actual cyclone position for route-specific updates. Casino operators dimmed gaming floors, a now-practiced ritual that trades near-term revenue for asset protection and guest safety.
Even as Hong Kong stepped down from peak winds, maritime agencies kept a close watch on the South China Sea shelf. Storm-force winds driven over long stretches of water can set up swells that outrun a storm’s core, arriving after the eyewall has passed. For ports handling bulk cargo and container traffic, that lag matters. Pilots wait for swell decay to reduce roll for berthing, and terminal managers inspect quay cranes and yard stacks before calling in labor for full shifts.
Economically, the hit will register first in aviation, then logistics, then services. The mass shelving of flights compresses revenue days and adds downstream costs as equipment and crews are repositioned. Express shipments bunch when hub airports shut, and trucking firms reroute around road closures or delayed car-ferry services across the delta. Retail and services lose turnover that is hard to recapture. Our coverage of the city’s corporate pulse—see Hong Kong’s broader economy through the lens of China’s EV leaders—underscores how weather and market shocks can travel the same supply-chain arteries.
For many residents, the images that defined Ragasa were the close-in moments. Water shouldering through hotel doors on the south side. Shopkeepers sweeping out a slurry of seawater and sand. A bus-stop sign bent into a curve. Families leaning into the wind to look, for a moment, at a sea that refused to stay in its lane. Those scenes recalled lessons learned after recent storms: do not underestimate surge, respect the pull of harbor inlets, and remember that even a city built for resilience still sits exposed on an ocean edge.
Comparisons were inevitable. The city’s previous brush with a highest-tier alert and mass cancellations came amid Wipha, when Signal No. 10 halted transport and felled hundreds of trees. For contextual readers, see our report on a Signal No. 10 warning that paralyzed Hong Kong and southern China earlier this season. The institutional muscle memory visible this week—airlines pushing fleets out of harm’s way, transit agencies locking down exposed segments, city crews pre-staging—grew out of those earlier ordeals.
Satellite imagery captured the scope of Ragasa’s wind field and the symmetry of its core during peaks. A readable entry point is the NASA Earth Observatory satellite view of Ragasa and its turn toward China, which illustrates how the storm transitioned after lashing northern Luzon and Taiwan.
In Guangdong Province, planners prioritized evacuees in low-lying districts along estuary channels where wind and tide can steer water into neighborhoods that rarely flood. The province’s refinery and petrochemicals corridor from Yangjiang to Maoming reduced operations ahead of landfall and pre-positioned pumps and barriers. For policy context on the region’s strategic weight, readers may revisit Guangdong Province coverage that underscores why decisions here ripple across supply chains.
Public health teams monitored shelters as families returned to assess water damage and mold risk. Schools and clinics on the islands and in older districts weighed phased reopenings. Social services focused on the elderly and residents of subdivided flats with limited ventilation where humidity spikes carry outsized health costs.
As for transport, the restart tends to run on a choreography of equipment, rested crews, and gate availability. Airlines begin with short-haul sectors that clear backlogs and rebuild confidence before long-hauls spool up. Cargo arrivals typically trail passenger operations by hours to a day as handlers reset equipment and verify ramp conditions. MTR and bus operators bring trunk lines back first, then branch routes, and only after pier inspections do ferries whistle again across the harbor.
Residents across the bay watched Macau navigate its own storm protocol. Operators sealed mall arcades and service corridors with temporary flood walls. Gaming floors dimmed and surveillance rooms monitored water ingress and power. For a broader view of the territory’s economic role, see our coverage of Macau’s casinos within an Asian market that has reshaped post-pandemic travel.
Ragasa’s toll across the region will take days to settle. Associated Press tallied early casualties after the storm’s passage through Taiwan and the Philippines and noted the breadth of evacuations and damage as winds crossed into southern China. Live updates across outlets captured the Yangjiang landfall and the surge patterns that tested coastal defenses; one useful snapshot is The Guardian summarizing cross-region impact.
Climate scientists caution against attributing any single storm entirely to long-term warming, yet the baseline matters. The western Pacific has trended toward hotter sea-surface temperatures that support rapid intensification and wider wind fields. For readers seeking the broader context, the World Meteorological Organization’s latest regional survey catalogs tropical cyclone extremes and exposure, according to WMO’s State of the Climate in Asia. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change details increases in heavy-precipitation extremes and the conditions that raise storm rainfall potential. These findings do not recast Ragasa’s storyline alone, but they do shape how cities invest in drainage, pump capacity, and managed retreat.
Beyond Hong Kong and Guangdong, communities across the Western Pacific have endured a drumbeat of severe storms. Our coverage of mass evacuations in the Philippines during earlier cyclones shows how early moves save lives when surge and rain bands align. That same logic drove this week’s decisions along the South China Sea, from school closures and shelter openings to the staged return of transit and airport operations.
If Ragasa’s damage tally in Hong Kong proves lower than initially feared, credit will belong to the city’s muscle memory and a cautious strategy across the border. Officials moved people early. Airline planners sent jets away from harm. Maritime and transit managers secured fleets. Citizens mostly stayed off the roads, leaving crews space to cut away fallen banyan limbs, reconnect snapped cables, and pump out underpasses. The bruises are real, but the city once again absorbed a blow that might have landed harder in another era.
This report reflects conditions and official bulletins through late Wednesday in Hong Kong and the western Pearl River Delta. For reference material cited in this story, including Hong Kong Observatory bulletins, airport and carrier advisories, China Meteorological Administration updates, Joint Typhoon Warning Center products, NASA Earth Observatory imagery, Associated Press and Reuters reporting, and live coverage of landfall, readers may consult the linked sources above.
