Discover the best time of year, based on historical climate, temperature, and precipitation.
The best weather in Haeju is from May, September, October. — consistent weather climate
🌧Rainy
| Score | 22 | 26 | 37 | 68 | 78 | 66 | 43 | 40 | 71 | 78 | 34 | 23 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Climate | Polar | Cold | Cold | Cold | Cool & rainy | Rainy | Rainy | Rainy | Rainy | Mild | Cold | Polar |
| Temperature | -7–1°C | -5–5°C | 0–10°C | 6–16°C | 11–20°C | 17–25°C | 21–28°C | 22–28°C | 17–25°C | 9–18°C | 2–11°C | -6–2°C |
| Feels like | -12–-3°C | -9–0°C | -4–7°C | 3–14°C | 10–20°C | 18–27°C | 24–32°C | 25–32°C | 18–27°C | 7–16°C | -2–8°C | -11–-2°C |
| Precipitation | 26mm 4 days | 21mm 4 days | 44mm 4 days | 62mm 5 days | 112mm 9 days | 184mm 13 days | 328mm 22 days | 337mm 23 days | 152mm 12 days | 77mm 6 days | 78mm 6 days | 23mm 4 days |
| Sunshine | 7.4h ☀︎ 75% | 7.9h ☀︎ 73% | 9.0h ☀︎ 75% | 9.4h ☀︎ 71% | 9.0h ☀︎ 63% | 8.7h ☀︎ 59% | 6.6h ☀︎ 46% | 7.0h ☀︎ 52% | 8.6h ☀︎ 69% | 8.2h ☀︎ 73% | 7.1h ☀︎ 70% | 7.1h ☀︎ 74% |
| Wind | N · 16 km/h | NW · 16 km/h | NW · 17 km/h | SW · 17 km/h | S · 16 km/h | S · 15 km/h | S · 16 km/h | S · 15 km/h | NE · 14 km/h | N · 14 km/h | NW · 16 km/h | N · 17 km/h |
| Humidity (%) | 62% | 65% | 68% | 66% | 74% | 80% | 86% | 86% | 79% | 74% | 73% | 65% |
| Day length | 9.9h | 10.8h | 12.0h | 13.2h | 14.2h | 14.8h | 14.5h | 13.6h | 12.4h | 11.2h | 10.1h | 9.6h |
Haeju's travel calendar is completely inverted: outside footfall peaks in the bitter, wind-scoured cold of late autumn and early winter, while the city's two genuine sweet spots—May and October—unfold in near-total quiet.
Haeju does not ask to be loved for charm. Sitting along the northern reaches of Haeju Bay as the seat of South Hwanghae Province, it is an earnest, utilitarian coastal city anchored by cement works, chemical enterprises, and long shipping docks facing the Yellow Sea. Any journey here is deliberate and tightly circumscribed. Yet within those strict boundaries, your experience is entirely held hostage by the coastal weather. Arrive when the crowds do and you will face raw concrete under cutting sub-zero winds; come when the weather actually sings and you will find an unexpectedly clear, temperate port flanked by calm water and pine-covered hills.
Winter releases South Hwanghae Province slowly, but by April the maritime chill begins to peel back. The gray haze of the early months gives way to intense, direct sunlight pouring down across the harbor. Temperatures climb steadily into the high teens, turning walks between municipal monuments and port overlooks comfortable rather than endurance tests.
May is the standout month of the entire spring calendar. Daytime temperatures settle right around 20 degrees Celsius, balancing the sea breeze with consistent, warming sun. The heavy rains that define summer are still weeks away, confined for now to sporadic showers that merely wash the soot from the wide asphalt avenues. If you want to see Haeju at its most physically welcoming, this is the first of two windows where the city feels open rather than endured.
By late June, the summer monsoon moves directly over Haeju Bay, transforming the coastal plain into a dense, airless greenhouse. The apparent temperature easily breaks past 30 degrees, compounded by suffocating levels of humidity that roll off the water and linger over the city basin.
July and August bring relentless, plan-breaking downpours. Over three hundred millimeters of rain fall in each of these months, arriving in sudden, torrential sheets that overwhelm gutters, flood rural approach roads, and blur the coastline into a uniform sheet of gray. Moving between designated sights turns into an exercise in damp frustration, with clothing never fully drying in the thick sea air. While foreign group itineraries sometimes slot these months in, they represent the grimmest conditions of the year for walking.
September pulls the monsoon out to sea, though the heat takes a few weeks to fully dissipate. By the time October arrives, Haeju settles into what is undeniably the finest weather of the year. The humidity crashes, the torrential storms vanish, and the air turns remarkably sharp and dry.
October matches May for comfort, but with an added crispness that suits the austere, monumental scale of South Hwanghae Province. Highs hover in the upper teens, skies remain deep blue for days on end, and visibility across Haeju Bay stretches out toward the horizon without a trace of summer murk. It is cool enough for a light jacket, dry enough to guarantee smooth transit on the provincial highways, and astonishingly peaceful before the winter influx begins.
November and December are the busiest months on Haeju's visitor calendar, a fact that defies all meteorological sense. This is when official visits, student delegations, and year-end travel converge on the provincial capital. If you travel now, you will encounter the city at its most populated, precisely when the climate is at its most punitive.
By November, apparent temperatures drop into single digits, pushed down by sharp winds screaming off the bay. By December, the thermometer sinks below freezing, coastal moisture freezes into slick pavements, and the industrial chimneys of Haeju churn smoke into low, pale skies. Inside the massive stone and concrete halls of provincial sights, the damp cold seeps straight through heavy coats. Traveling now reveals the city at its starkest, but you pay for that atmosphere with shivering limbs and biting coastal gusts.
Once the December surge dissipates, Haeju sinks into an austere winter slumber through January and February. The crowds drop away almost completely, leaving the wide avenues empty under pale winter sun. While precipitation is minimal—falling as light, powdery dustings of snow or dry sleet—the apparent temperature remains stubbornly below freezing for weeks at a time.
March brings the first signs of transition, but it remains treacherous. The frozen ground begins to thaw into coastal slush, the wind off Haeju Bay remains needle-sharp, and the temperature struggles to reach double digits. Unless you are drawn specifically to the severe, unvarnished look of a northern port under winter discipline, this stretch offers little comfort to anyone standing outdoors.