Russell and Carol - hayle and hearty

At first, it feels like an earthquake. Windows shatter in Penzance,
and oscillation disturbs mid-morning visitors to St John’s Hall. At St
Ives, shops lose their plate glass and roofs are damaged. The earth
rumbles; a “dull, hollow boom” is in the air. But then the rumours
start, helped on their way by the shrill voices of telegraph and
telephone, and all too soon they are confirmed. At the National
Explosive Works at Gwithian, the febrile product has done exactly what
it says on the tin. Over a mile away, out at sea, bits of lead tank and
machinery are beginning to fall from the sky.