Throughout history, humanity has turned to ingenious and sometimes bizarre methods to tackle environmental challenges. Among the more unconventional attempts to control nature is the practice of using explosives to induce rain. Yes, you read that right—at one point in time, people genuinely believed that firing cannons and detonating dynamite in the sky could coax rain from stubborn clouds. While this idea may sound far-fetched to modern ears, it was taken seriously enough to spawn government-funded experiments, wild theories, and no small amount of spectacle.
The late 19th and early 20th centuries were marked by periods of severe drought in many parts of the world, particularly in the western United States. Agriculture was the backbone of many economies, and the lack of rain often spelled disaster for farmers and rural communities. Faced with the devastating effects of prolonged drought, people turned to unconventional solutions to summon rain, blending equal parts hope, ingenuity, and scientific naïveté.
READ MORE: The U.S. Experiment That Tried to Make Rain with Explosions
Rainmaking wasn’t a new concept. Indigenous peoples around the world had long practiced rain dances and other rituals. However, the industrial age brought a different approach: one rooted in machinery and explosives. Enter the era of explosive rainmaking experiments.
One of the most infamous proponents of rainmaking by explosives was General Robert St. George Dyrenforth, a lawyer and amateur scientist who gained government support for his rainmaking endeavors in the 1890s. Dyrenforth was a believer in the “concussion theory,” which posited that loud, powerful explosions could disturb the atmosphere enough to trigger precipitation. The theory was loosely inspired by observations that heavy artillery fire during battles sometimes preceded rainfall.
In 1891, Dyrenforth led a series of government-funded experiments in Texas. Cannons were fired, balloons laden with dynamite were launched, and explosives were detonated on the ground—all in the hopes of creating artificial rain. Witnesses reported smoke-filled skies, thunderous booms, and even minor rainfall. However, critics quickly pointed out that any precipitation observed during these experiments could have been coincidental, as there was no evidence linking the explosions to the rain.
Dyrenforth’s experiments were widely ridiculed in the press, earning him the nickname “General Dry-Henceforth.” Despite this, his efforts sparked a wave of interest in explosive rainmaking, with private individuals and local governments attempting similar schemes in the years that followed.
Another example comes from Charles Hatfield, a self-proclaimed “moisture accelerator” who used a mix of chemicals and explosives to create rain. In 1915, Hatfield was hired by the city of San Diego to fill the Morena Reservoir during a drought. He set up his equipment and released his concoction into the sky, followed by a period of heavy rains. Unfortunately, the rains quickly turned into a disastrous flood, destroying homes, bridges, and farmland. Though Hatfield claimed success, many viewed him as responsible for the devastation, and he was never fully paid for his efforts.
In Europe, during the early 20th century, similar experiments were conducted in France and Germany. Farmers and scientists experimented with firing cannons, hoping the vibrations would shake the heavens into releasing rain. Though largely unsuccessful, these efforts reflected a shared belief in the potential of explosions to manipulate the atmosphere.
A notable case from Australia occurred in 1902, during the Federation Drought, when entrepreneur and inventor Clement Wragge attempted to bring rain using explosives. Wragge fired rockets into the sky, but his experiments failed to produce any measurable rainfall. Despite this, his colorful demonstrations attracted widespread public attention, and he remained a significant figure in Australia’s meteorological history.
In South Africa during the 1920s, farmers organized explosive rainmaking efforts using dynamite. Local accounts tell of dynamite being placed on hillsides or suspended by balloons, with loud explosions echoing across the landscape. Though these attempts were largely unsuccessful, they underscored the lengths to which people would go to mitigate the effects of drought.
The underlying idea behind explosive rainmaking was based on a rudimentary understanding of atmospheric processes. Proponents believed that the shockwaves from explosions could destabilize the atmosphere, encouraging the formation of clouds and precipitation. Unfortunately, this theory lacked any real scientific foundation. Modern meteorology tells us that rain formation is influenced by factors such as temperature, humidity, and the presence of condensation nuclei—none of which can be reliably manipulated with explosives.
In fact, the explosions likely did more to scatter any existing moisture than to concentrate it into rainclouds. The occasional “success” of these experiments was almost certainly due to natural weather patterns rather than the intervention of dynamite.
While it’s easy to laugh at the idea of using cannons to make it rain, these experiments were born out of genuine desperation. For communities ravaged by drought, the promise of rain—however far-fetched—was worth pursuing. The explosive rainmaking experiments reflect humanity’s enduring hope and determination to find solutions to seemingly insurmountable problems, even when those solutions border on the absurd.
The failure of explosive rainmaking didn’t end humanity’s quest to control the weather. By the mid-20th century, scientists had developed more sophisticated methods, such as cloud seeding, which involves dispersing substances like silver iodide or salt particles into the atmosphere to encourage cloud formation. Unlike its explosive predecessor, cloud seeding is grounded in a solid understanding of atmospheric science and has been successfully used to enhance rainfall in many regions.
The story of explosive rainmaking is a fascinating chapter in the history of weather modification, showcasing both the limits of human ingenuity and the boundless optimism that drives us to tackle nature’s challenges. While firing cannons into the sky may not have delivered the desired results, it’s a testament to humanity’s willingness to think outside the box—even if that box is filled with dynamite.
As we continue to grapple with the challenges of climate change and water scarcity, the question remains: what bold (and perhaps bizarre) solutions will future generations come up with to tame the forces of nature?