Meteorologist

Born: July 28 1938;

Died: December 10 2016

IAN McCaskill, who has died aged 78, was for almost 20 years one of Britain’s best-known television personalities, thanks to his appearances as a weather forecaster on the BBC. His popularity initially baffled many, for on-screen McCaskill seemed almost the antithesis of the polished metropolitan types then thought the model for TV presenters.

A rumpled, owlish figure, McCaskill delivered his predictions on the next day’s weather with a mixture of breathless enthusiasm and sheepish embarrassment when things went wrong, as they frequently did. Tubby and bespectacled, he was also, when RP or neutral English accents were practically a requirement on screen, identifiably Scottish; compounded by a delivery that pitched and emphasised words apparently at random.

But that, together with the regularity of his appearances and his warm, good-natured manner, was probably part of his success. McCaskill was a gift to impressionists – Rory Bremner described him as “practically one of the cast” for his show, and he achieved the 1980s’ ultimate acknowledgement of fame by having his own puppet on Spitting Image.

Until McCaskill’s arrival, the best-known weatherman (they were then mostly men) had been Michael Fish, who owed his fame to his moustache and to his dress sense, which made the Open University’s presenters look like David Niven, even by the standards of the 1970s, when colour blindness and a love of polymers were the main requirement for fashion designers.

In common with Fish and the BBC’s other forecasters, however, McCaskill was not, technically speaking, a TV presenter at all. Those who delivered the bulletins in BBC news broadcasts were civil servants employed by the Met Office.

McCaskill and his colleagues did not merely deliver predictions in front of a map to which stickers of clouds or blazing sun refused to adhere satisfactorily, but were responsible for analysing the scientific data and producing the forecasts.

This did not always go swimmingly, either. In 1987, the Met Office failed to predict a hurricane that swept across the country, causing widespread damage; much condemnation and ridicule was directed at Fish, who had delivered the bulletins reassuring the public that it would not happen. Only many years later did McCaskill admit that he had been responsible for drawing up the forecast in question.

John Robertson McCaskill was born on July 28 1938 in Glasgow, the son of an insurance salesman, and grew up in Queen’s Park on the south side of the city. After Queen’s Park Secondary, he went on to the University to study geology and chemistry. His main extracurricular activity was as a cox for the rowing squad at the boathouse near Glasgow Green; he was 5’ 9”, but not as an undergraduate as rotund as he was later to become. He was also keen on amateur dramatics.

McCaskill had originally hoped to become a doctor, but Glasgow then required an undergraduate degree before joining the Faculty of Medicine, and rather than put in six years, he settled for a BSc, intending to go into teaching.

First, however, he had to sign up for his National Service and in 1959 joined the RAF where, when his science background was identified, he was sent to the meteorology section. He was based at Prestwick and posted for a while to Malta and to Cyprus. After completing his National Service, McCaskill thought that meteorology might provide a career as secure as teaching, without the need for further training, and signed up with the Met Office.

By that stage he had married Lesley Charlesworth, with whom he went on to have two daughters. After several postings with the Met Office, they eventually settled in Manchester.

In the late 1970s, there were calls from the BBC for Met Office personnel who would like to join the presenting team for news services and McCaskill put his name down. Rather to his surprise, he was shortlisted after the screen tests, and in 1978 joined the rota.

The move initially caused some disruption, since it involved a move to work in London (the McCaskills eventually settled in Buckinghamshire). The working hours, which often involved shifts through the night, were an irritant, as was the pay scale, which was the civil service standard, rather than the salaries enjoyed by other presenters. There was, however, the unexpected consolation of being a hit with the viewing public.

Despite an early, regrettable flirtation with a powder-blue safari jacket, McCaskill eschewed the strobe-inducing wardrobe of Michael Fish, generally appearing in a low-key sports jacket and tie. His cheery and slightly diffident manner, though, quickly won over viewers as did his readiness to crack a joke – though he was no stand-up comedian – and his ability to laugh at his on-screen persona.

In 1988, the Tribe of Toff’s novelty hit John Kettley is a Weatherman concluded with the climactic line “and so is Ian McCaaaskiiiill”, while in 1994 he received the most unlikely accolade of all when he was voted Britain’s sexiest weather presenter.

After retiring from the Met Office and the BBC weather slot in 1998, McCaskill made occasional television appearances, notably on Celebrity Fit Club in 2002, when he got his weight down to 13 stone. He also worked as a motivational speaker, appeared in commercials and undertook an Open University degree. He wrote, with Paul Hudson, a book on Britain’s worst winters, Frozen in Time (2006).

Ian McCaskill, who had been suffering from dementia for the past five years, died on December 10.

His wife Lesley died in 1992 and in 1998 he married, secondly, Pat Cromack, acquiring two stepsons. They and his two daughters from his first marriage survive him.

ANDREW MCKIE