Log Book 2004-2005
Peter's Point, Hayle, Cornwall - Atlantic, August 23rd 2004
Dark grey clouds came across the bay on the south-south westerly wind creating dark matt on the surface where the rain broke the reflection and merged the remains of the blue water into shadow. As the darkest clouds yet then approached and the river ran down the cliff, flowing into the sand, the heaviest rain began to fall. The noise of the rain on the surface although not loud, seemed complete. As the lumps became waves they were given solidity and form that lacked the translucence that is familiar. In the calm that followed the rain, Ben radioed to reiterate that the sea would be a bit less salty.
Port Ronald, Troon, Ayrshire - Firth of Clyde, December 5th 2004
At about one o'clock, having prepared the cameras and secured them to their buoys, I swam about one hundred metres out. The buoys floated upright and in formation. The wind and current pulled them into a line of three. At the distance I was happy with, I dropped the stone used to anchor them.
The movements made by the buoys and cameras gave them life. That gave new meaning to the word buoy (assuming that buoyancy is its actual derivative). I cannot help now but think of a submerged boy in the water. The surprising independence and inquisitivity with which the buoys move resembles that of a frightened, panicked child.
The buoy closest to the anchor broke free about thirty minutes after it was moored. It drifted in and became wet and beached (on the rocks).
As the sun began to set, about two and a half hours later, I returned to the cameras and had to untie them because the rock anchor had become stuck. Tugging up on an unknown withholder of the anchor not only pulled me under but also provoked my idea that there might have been something disturbing being disturbed on the seabed. In the twilight, the water became dark and opaque and I felt the sense of fear that I saw in the
buoys earlier.
Bellevue, København - Øresund, December 24th 2004
On Christmas Eve, Copenhagen was covered in a layer of slushy snow. Outside the city at Bellevue, the snow was more crisp and the air temperature about zero. The crystal clear clean water at the suburban beach was bitterly cold. I swam for about two or three minutes and left the camera to drift south with the wind.
The water was calm and surprisingly bright beneath the surface. The small amount of my face that was exposed became numb on the swim out to retrieve my camera. Stepping on snow-covered sand made an interesting flippered walk. Much like a penguin's. The tide had risen over a shallow shelf; therefore the water was not deep where I swam, though thoughts of seals made me paranoid.
Porthmeor, Cornwall - Altantic, January 1st 2005
New Year in Cornwall was mild and there were lots of people surfing as usual. There was also an uncomfortable tension in the surf. Not much friendly talk considering the close proximity of the numbers.
In contrast with the other areas the buoys had been to, here there were other people in the sea. The waves were large and they broke the buoy I'd made for the camera. I had to leave the camera in the sea to drift alone. It moved so fast in the wind.
The strong westerly (always westerly) threatened to blow the camera around the headland. Luckily the next two sets washed the camera onto the rocks and so it was recovered. My hands were not even cold but the camera was full of water.
Porthmeor, Cornwall - Altantic, January 3rd 2005
Despite my attempts to strengthen the buoy, in the waves the counterweight was torn away. Again I tied the buoy to a rock and pointed the camera horizonward. Surprisingly it survived a few waves and we got washed in after a fifteen-minute swim.
The low-tide bank filled the waves with sand and encouraged dark, hollow forms in the shore-break. I was still picking sand from my hair days later. In the black bag the film dried overnight and joined the others in the morning.
Troon South Beach, Ayrshire - Firth of Clyde, January 15th 2005
Another howling westerly brought a couple of kite surfers to the sea and blew in a lot of seaweed, rubbish and murk. The sea was cold and rough. There were no real waves; instead there was plenty of slushy brown chop. The buoy struggled to stay afloat let alone upright. Cold, sandy wind, windy sand, wet salty wind, dim if not dark and smelly. Ailsa Craig's silhouette was just visible.
Milsey Bay, North Berwick - Firth of Forth, January 23rd 2005
Low winter sunshine lit a lone Canadian surfer at North Berwick. When he got out the sea was empty. A North Easterly wind and an air temperature of three degrees made the water feel really cold. My hands lost feeling after about a minute and I could not see my feet. It was such a pleasant day for a walk on the beach.
It distracted me walking on the shore to see the buoy drift slowly in then back out in a small rip current. When the current dispersed the buoy drifted further west and with the wind became grounded on the rocks.
Grande Plage, Biarritz - Golfe de Gascogne, February 8th 2005
I'd been for a swim already, but without the cameras. The waves had been large and breaking at high tide and I enjoyed bodysurfing a few. The next day, on the 8th, the waves were still definitely there but not quite as big and the sun was warm and the beach calm. I constructed the camera on the promenade and found the right sized rock for the counterweight. The sea in the Biscay in February was warm enough for a swim without gloves, boots and hood, although the hood made it even warmer.
Having reached the line-up I swam for another fifty metres and let the buoy free in the water. The first waves broke a couple of minutes later and the buoy was being rapidly washed in. It only managed to right itself between set waves. After only about ten minutes, the camera and buoy had reached the beach and was being gently tumbled in the sand by the dropping tide. I returned the camera to its bag and went back into the sea.
Rocher de la Vierge, Biarritz - Golfe de Gascogne, February 9th 2005
The 9th was cool in the morning and the waves were large. Rocher de la Vierge is a small sheltered cove that was not overpowered by the swell. When set waves surged into the cove, the water level rose by a couple of metres. It was difficult to stay in a safe enough place so as not get washed out with the ebb. The buoy moved with the current for ten or fifteen minutes until a large set washed us both further in.
Milsey Bay, North Berwick - Firth of Forth, February 26th 2005
The North Easterly wind was strong enough to bring large whitecaps to where the swell broke, it was also a cold North Easterly. I hate being unable to see through the water but particularly being unable to see the rest of my body below the surface.
From the water, it was difficult to determine where the waves stopped breaking and the whitecaps started. I swam until I was beyond the inner breakers and when the horizon was clear of set waves, I opened the hole and let the buoy drift. There had been a large group of children practicing football on the beach as I walked down. It was surprisingly easy to flipper-kick their ball. When I left the shore, they were still on the beach, when I first turned to look back, it was worrying to see that they were no longer there, because I thought that I had drifted towards the rocks. They had merely finished their practice.
Gwithian, Cornwall - Atlantic, March 22nd 2005
The offshore wind had an increased effect on every wave that broke. The space behind the back of the wave became a squall full of seawater pretending to be rain.
Trégastel, Côtes d'Armor - Atlantique, March 24th 2005
The shallow bay at Trégastel was dotted with small islands and the water was warm and shallow enough to be closer to a pool than the sea. Dariush and I swam across the bay. Under the surface the seaweed hung still like black trees, occasionally breaking the surface.
St. Gilles Croix de Vie, Vendée - Atlantique, March 28th 2005
Although the air was still, there was lots of water moving everywhere in the sea. It was very difficult to stay in one place and necessary to keep checking landmarks. Perhaps there were some sand banks formed when the tide was lower because some of the larger set waves broke much farther from the shore than the rest. These left those huge cloud-like surface films of foam for a minute or so after the set had reached the shore. The light onshore breeze made the wave faces steep and the breaking fast.
Trévignon, Finisterre - Atlantique, March 30th 2005
In the distance, from the south coast high grounds of isles can be seen. Offshore winds flattened the sea and flattened the horizon and drove straight lines outward. Seaweed shrouded the shoreline for fifteen metres and looking south with the facing sun made it impossible to see what lay beyond. The next cove on the coast was not far and I swam to it with little cold fatigue. The coastal landscape and geology made Finisterre's linguistic link with Land's End more pertinent.
La Torche, Finisterre - Atlantique, March 31st 2005
At La Torche there is a large sandy bay sheltered from south-westerly winds. The water seemed to be cleaner and clearer than all elsewhere. The northerly current was quite strong and the waves distracting enough to allow drift. Sunshine and turquoise water made floating in the water light and playful without any of the customary fear. Perhaps it was the familiarity and consistency of the sand on the bottom, helped by the ability to see both the environment and myself that reassured me.
Grande Plage, Biarritz - Golfe de Gascogne, April 2nd 2005
In the distance from the busy beach there are rocks about half a kilometre away. After a short swim the rocks that appeared small from the beach became great islands that rose from deep water and hid animals that threatened to bite me, or maybe just nibble. Out in the deeper water, on the side of the island away from the shore, the water made uncorrupted noises. The dark presence of the supposedly static mass strengthened my impression of buoyancy by showing me the depths to which the shadow sank.
Ciboure, Pyrénées-Atlantiques - Golfe de Gascogne, April 4th 2005
The bay inside of the walls was so flat and the water crystal clear. The water refreshed me before the sun rose. The rocks and inhabitants at the bottom that were visible from the shore became blurred and masked with the underwater shadows that create the ambience of fear that chokes and excites me like really strong coffee.
Plage des Cavaliers, Anglet - Golfe de Gascogne, April 6th 2005
Rising spring high tide changed the shapes of the waves' breaking so quickly that in the time it took to ready myself for the shore break, the few people who had been in company had left the water. On the Wednesday, despite the sun shining and the weather being warm, the sea made me very nervous. An anxiously awaited lull arrived and allowed me a safe swim into the next set of waves. Although the risk of being washed back into the shore break was there, it was the exiting of the water without a vantage point that worried me. In the water the nervousness disappeared and confidence was gained with every wave. Although I had never been alone in water so big with a tide so dangerous, it seems never to be the water that is the source of the fear that I feel. In fact leaving the water was quite gentle. By floating in the back of the wave as it broke and swimming into the surge, it was possible to become deposited on the shore, although nearly sucked back out into the next wave.
Plage de la Barre, Anglet - Golfe de Gascogne, April 9th 2005
The lines of boulders projecting from the shore protect the river and inadvertently shelter the small beach from large swells. From the water the waves seem to appear from behind the rocky projection and break along the sand bank that forms on the inner side of the south barre. The water was quite murky and I couldn't see below my arms. Other than the frequent waves that appear out of nowhere, only the ships emerging from the river are of interest. Aurelien thinks that this beach is not good for swimming because of the pollution from the river.
Port Ronald, Troon, Ayrshire - Firth of Clyde, April 19th 2005
On Tuesday the wind was predicted to be north westerly and the weather fine. Just after high tide, I counter weighted the new eye vessels and put the three smaller ones into the water and prepared to launch the larger two. Although the wind was a south-south east, cross off-shore, it was dying and light enough to be countered by a sea breeze which would return the vessels. Because of so many forewarnings about dangerous temperatures in the water in spring, I did not intend to swim. When I realized that soon the vessels would be too far out to safely retrieve without a wetsuit or flippers, I hopped to it and went to get the larger pinholes. It was too cold to get the rest; they were too far out. Later, the wind eventually turned and brought the small pinholes close to shore. Had the wind been a couple of degrees more from the west, they would have returned, but they missed the rocks and continued towards Ayr. It was a sad thing to lose those thoughts.
Port Ronald, Troon, Ayrshire - Firth of Clyde, April 22nd 2005
On Saturday the wind was truly onshore and I had my wetsuit and flippers ready. The two small pinholes were identical as were the larger. Although they travelled in different directions, they moved in pairs. I think that the weight of the keels in relation to the size and surface area of the vessels determines whether they are more affected by the wind or by the current. The small vessels took a course for Ayr whereas the larger went directly downwind. I swam to reposition the small vessels so that they would reach land on their current course. The water on the sheltered side of Troon was so clear that even in the deep water a couple of hundred metres out, I could clearly see the bottom. It was very dark when it was deep.
Milsey Bay, North Berwick - Firth of Forth, May 1st 2005
The beach was busy and Zia the eye doctor was very interested in the eye I was making for the sea. Having jumped in off the rocks into the offshore wind, I swam upwind and released the eye. It moved at a slow swimming speed with the wind and passed the rocks I had left from. In order not to lose it, I swam it back upwind and repeated the journey. I think that the water is a bit colder on the east coast and seems a bit less wet, maybe more salty. It doesn't have quite the same splash to it.
Troon South Beach, Ayrshire - Firth of Clyde, May 10th 2005
The three newly made eye vessels tilted leeward with the north westerly as they moved quickly and persistently downwind. Again one vessel (I guess the weight was slightly more or less heavy) moved further south and away from the others.
In the deepest of the water at low tide, which wasn't so deep, the rocks at the bottom were feint because of the silt or algae. This also made vivid shafts of sunlight reach to the bottom and dance around when looking down. The sand appeared yellow in the strongly blue water.
Gwithian, Cornwall - Atlantic, July 9th 2005
On a day when the wind blew the waves up into false crests, breakng sporadically long before the shore, Tom and I were able to compare the maelstrom that was the surface with the calm beneath. Seas like that are so difficult to read, shift so fast that the changes not worth more than noting. One moment one is drifting out at speeds surpassing swimmers', reaching one's threshold, the next is safe in the calm beyond even the wind.
Carnon, Montpellier - Méditerranée, July 14th 2005
It took until night to reach Carnon and on the beach Fête Nationale began exploding. The water, which did not make a sound was too peaceful to disturb. A friend once told me how he'd hitched for two days, every week-end to see the sea. When he arrived, he'd wet his hands in the water and go back.
Blaca, Korcula - Jadran, July 24th 2005
As the sun sank, clipping the horizon between Hvar and Korcula, the water became dark, quite black. The chop without substance that had roughed the sea earlier became small mounds that bulged from beneath the black.
Beady Pool, St. Agnes - Atlantic, August 1st 2005
Today we found nothing but pollock. Perhaps they keep the beads in their bellies with the eels they eat.
Porthleven, Cornwall - Atlantic, January 5th 2006
Every time a wave pulled the shallow water closer, black boils disfigured the surface. The water was slowed down by the weight of its colour. Should a boat have come in I’m sure it would have been un-laden and the water would have been barely broken. For me the place has an innate sincerity being frequented by RAF helicopters and for its notoriety amongst surfers. There are often more people watching the water in awe than there are afloat.