An Ancient Seaway

As so long elapsed prior to posting the last picture, I’ll post two on consecutive days to catch up.

I recorded this image during my expedition to Tynemouth Castle and Priory, Monday, November 15^th, 2010. I had caught the bus north from Sunderland, then taken the ferry across the Tyne and walked out to the headland, where the Medieval ruins are preserved as Scheduled Ancient Monuments. This has been a busy artery of trade since time immemorial, and remains a major maritime town to this day. The weather was perfect, sunny and mild, and the sea and river were perfect rippled reflectors. This view looks directly out into the North Sea, and the lighthouse is at the end of the north breakwater of the river mouth. I remember the day very well, and the photographic record forms a visual diary, with many excellent shots worth a look.

The image was adjustment slightly, gamma value, contrast, saturation and sharpness receiving minor tweaks. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

 

Edifice in Silhouette

 As around three weeks elapsed since the photo of the Tyne at sunset, I thought I'd post two in quick succession to make up. Here's an interesting play of light—a very simple shot, but there's always something that captures my eye when I can place a tall object between me and the sun and explore the optical effects. This is the Cape Jervis lighthouse, down at the tip of the Fleurieu Peninsula, on the passage across to Kangaroo Island, photographed on an expedition along the south coast on July 21^st, 2017. This image is not modified in any way. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

One Serious Breakwater

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Actually it's one of two... These great, curved breakwaters extend way out into the North Sea from the Roker foreshore, just north of the entrance to Sunderland harbour. They are Victorian engineering, all solid stone and cast iron, and are capped with typically 19th century lighthouses. The area enclosed between them seems to be a safe beach for the summer tourist trade rather than guarding the mouth of the river, as the twin breakwaters do at Whitby. The photograph was taken from the esplanade, and was cropped down to a panoramic image, removing some foreground and a lot of sky. The horizon line was levelled up using the fine rotation tool, and the image was sharpened progressively to regain the clarity expected of such a shot. Colour and contrast were also adjusted slightly. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic; November 2006. Image by Mike.

Texture-on-Sea

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Sunderland is the farthest north I've been, and in November, 2006, it was very cold. This was around 3.30 in the afternoon and the sun was low, daylight would be gone in an hour. This is the lighthouse at the end of the north breakwater of the pair protecting the beach on the Roker foreshore, and I walked out there in the sea wind to explore stone, iron, rust and light. The texture of the stone construction of the tower appealed very much to the lens, and is characteristic of the way all coastal engineering fares at the hands of the elements. The shot was a simple one, looking up the tower against the late afternoon sky, and enhancements were simply sharpness, gamma correction and contrast. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic. Image by Mike.

The Darkening Sea

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There's something so primal about the sea. Any sea is primal, but it's easy to be comfortable on a bright beach, or under a clear sea with coral-grown shallows under your flippers. It's a cold, hard sea that reminds you the ocean is a very different world to the one we evolved to live in. This was Whitby harbour's breakwaters at twilight, November 2006, under a biting wind. The sun was gone and we're looking more or less north over the North Sea. Scandinavia lies out beyond that horizon, and the falling dusk and restless energy of the cold sea feel hostile to humans. Yet it's where the birds live, and this shot captured that essence: the herring gulls, the big, dusky seabirds that haunt the quays waiting for the fishing fleet to return, are the survivors of the coast, and here they are seen in their evening flight before settling for the dark hours. I took audio recordings of their unique, sweet cries, and was amazed that this image registered their flight so clearly. With the falling light I expected them to blur, but they are clear as daylight. The picture was slightly digitally enhanced for publication. Fuji FinePix S5600, automatic, telephoto. Image by Mike.