As dawn broke on September 8, 2025, the southern coast of China braced itself for the arrival of Tropical Storm Tapah, a tempest that swept in with little mercy, forcing mass evacuations, shuttering schools, and bringing one of Asia’s busiest financial hubs to a near standstill. The storm’s landfall, centered around Taishan city in Guangdong province at about 8:50 a.m. local time, was the culmination of hours of mounting anxiety and meticulous preparation by local authorities.
According to state broadcaster CCTV, Tapah struck with maximum sustained winds near its center reaching 30 meters (98 feet) per second—over 100 kilometers per hour—and gusts that soared to 150 kilometers per hour. The impact was immediate and widespread: more than 60,000 people were evacuated from vulnerable coastal areas across Guangdong by the afternoon before landfall, a fact echoed by multiple news agencies including Reuters and the Associated Press.
Guangdong, a province renowned for its economic dynamism and proximity to Hong Kong, ground to a halt as train and ferry services were suspended, dozens of scenic areas were closed, and port operations in coastal cities ceased. Emergency crews fanned out to monitor rivers already swollen from weeks of summer rain, heightening concerns that the storm’s torrential downpours could trigger flash floods and landslides, especially in regions like Guangxi, where Tapah’s remnants were forecast to linger into the following day.
In the neighboring city of Shenzhen, officials ordered schools to close and strongly advised residents to remain indoors. Engineers were dispatched to secure reservoirs and power facilities, and emergency shelters opened their doors to offer refuge to those displaced by the storm’s advance. The sense of urgency was palpable, punctuated by the knowledge that the South China Sea and western Pacific routinely generate several powerful cyclones between June and October, but each storm brings its own unique threats and disruptions.
Hong Kong, meanwhile, found itself directly in Tapah’s path. The city’s observatory raised its No. 8 storm signal—the third-highest in its weather warning system—at 9:20 p.m. on September 7, a signal that would remain in effect for more than 13 hours. The financial hub’s normally bustling streets fell eerily silent as gale-force winds and heavy rain bands battered the city, flipping umbrellas and rattling scaffolding on construction sites. According to Reuters, the storm passed about 170 kilometers southwest of Hong Kong at its closest approach, but its effects were felt citywide.
Public transport, including ferries, buses, and trams, was largely suspended, and the city’s mass-transit railway system operated at longer intervals. The education bureau announced that all schools would remain closed for the entire day, regardless of whether the storm signal was later lowered—a precaution that underscored the seriousness of the situation. Most businesses shut their doors, and court hearings were suspended as the city hunkered down.
At Hong Kong International Airport, sustained winds of 101 kilometers per hour and gusts up to 151 kilometers per hour were recorded, leading to the cancellation of about 100 flights. The disruption left some travelers stranded overnight, dozing on chairs as they waited for updates. In one incident, an HK Express plane arriving from Beijing veered onto the grass during landing, prompting a runway closure. Authorities reported smoke coming from the aircraft’s landing gear at one point, but no injuries were reported and it remained unclear whether the incident was directly related to the storm, according to police statements cited by the Associated Press.
Despite the chaos, early reports suggested that Hong Kong had escaped the worst. Streets were mostly calm with only scattered debris, and there were no immediate reports of major flooding or landslides as of Monday morning. The government did, however, receive over 160 reports of toppled trees and three flooding cases, while hundreds of people sought refuge in temporary centers set up across the city. Twelve people were reported injured and sent to hospitals for treatment, but the toll could have been much higher had authorities not acted swiftly.
As the storm moved away from Hong Kong, the observatory lowered the storm signal to No. 3 at 1:10 p.m., signaling the gradual resumption of public transport and the return of residents to work. Still, meteorologists warned that persistent heavy rainfall could continue to affect the city later on Monday and into Tuesday, possibly triggering what experts call the “train effect”—a phenomenon where bands of rain repeatedly pass over the same area, increasing the risk of flooding and landslides.
In Macao, the Chinese casino hub just across the Pearl River Delta, the storm caused minor flooding in some areas, but overall damage appeared limited. The resilience of the region’s infrastructure, combined with the timely warnings and coordinated emergency response, helped spare both Hong Kong and Macao from a more severe disaster.
Elsewhere in southern China, the story was much the same: transport services halted, flights canceled, and communities on edge as Tapah’s winds howled and rain lashed the landscape. Hundreds of flights were grounded across Guangdong and neighboring Guangxi, while port operations remained suspended until the storm’s passage could be safely confirmed. Emergency services remained on high alert, with the specter of flash floods and landslides looming over areas already saturated by recent rains.
By late morning on September 8, Tapah was moving inland, weakening as it tracked northwest toward Wuzhou city in Guangxi. China’s national meteorological center cautioned that the threat was not yet over, as parts of Guangdong and Guangxi could still face dangerous conditions from the lingering rain. The storm’s arrival marked the latest in a series of weather systems to batter East Asia during this year’s storm season, a reminder of the region’s vulnerability to nature’s fury.
As the day wore on and the skies began to clear, residents across southern China and Hong Kong emerged from their shelters, surveying the aftermath and slowly returning to the rhythms of daily life. The rapid, coordinated response by authorities—evacuating tens of thousands, closing schools and businesses, and mobilizing emergency crews—had undoubtedly mitigated what could have been a far greater tragedy. For many, the experience was a sobering reminder of the power of nature and the importance of preparedness in the face of ever-changing weather patterns.
