Bonsoir. Je m'appelle Alex!
"Thinking about Portreath Friday." The message was accompanied by a screenshot of a weather forecast that promised some bracing conditions for anyone who was prepared to get wet and risk a certain amount of seawater coming into contact with their camera if they didn't keep their wits about them. It took me about half a second to consider my options before replying that I would be there.
The previous conversation on Whatsapp with my daughter Nicky had centred on the relative merits of varying brands of vegetarian chorizo style sausages, so this was a bit of a departure. Probably a good thing because seascape photography is surely a broader subject with a more enduring conversation potential than meat substitute products.
I hadn't been to Portreath recently, even though it's so close to home, passing the summer crowds and heading along the coast in favour of the wilder and more open Gwithian and the increased opportunities for solitude that it brings. But when there's weather like this, Portreath Monkey Hut at high tide becomes a magnet to me. As the nights close in it's also one of only two places I can really get to after work now. Another week or two and I'll be limited to weekends unless I want to try some more astro-photography on a freezing cold night.
Surprisingly, and to our relief in this era of social distancing we had the place to ourselves, hiding behind the big wall that protects us from the elements here, occasionally popping up like meerkats to scan the horizon and hastily steal a shot from the driving elements that were coming straight at us. At one point a man stood on the quay below us, and before we could say anything a huge roller dumped its contents all over him, chasing him back along the yards to the relative safety of the inner harbour area. Every so often a substantial plume of spray and foam would rise into the air, giving us a split second to turn our backs and guard our precious camera equipment as it landed all over us. At least we were in a safe place, despite what misgivings the scene might be offering you.
And so for a while we watched the light fade as Storm Alex, the first of the season and named by our friends from across the Channel in France, battered the coast. As ever I couldn't resist trying a slightly longer exposure despite the rain and seaspray coming straight at us on the back of a fierce wind. With the trusty shower cap resting on top of the camera I dialled in my settings and tried my best to compose the image. Choosing the moment to expose the camera to the world and take a shot before quickly replacing the shower cap was one of pure chance, although I did manage to grab a small collection of images that I could barely see on my screen. Processing the RAW files also proved difficult and this is one of many versions of the same shot that I'm still struggling with.
But what I love is the drama, with the ever photographed monkey hut almost disappearing into the white water around it. I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening than trying to capture an image of the elemental fury around me. This is the Cornwall I love. Wild, brooding and ever changing in its moods where every outing brings challenges and my waterproofs are always in the car. The winter months are often seemingly endless, but if they bring out a passion you can completely lose yourself in, then what's not to love about them?
Bonsoir. Je m'appelle Alex!
"Thinking about Portreath Friday." The message was accompanied by a screenshot of a weather forecast that promised some bracing conditions for anyone who was prepared to get wet and risk a certain amount of seawater coming into contact with their camera if they didn't keep their wits about them. It took me about half a second to consider my options before replying that I would be there.
The previous conversation on Whatsapp with my daughter Nicky had centred on the relative merits of varying brands of vegetarian chorizo style sausages, so this was a bit of a departure. Probably a good thing because seascape photography is surely a broader subject with a more enduring conversation potential than meat substitute products.
I hadn't been to Portreath recently, even though it's so close to home, passing the summer crowds and heading along the coast in favour of the wilder and more open Gwithian and the increased opportunities for solitude that it brings. But when there's weather like this, Portreath Monkey Hut at high tide becomes a magnet to me. As the nights close in it's also one of only two places I can really get to after work now. Another week or two and I'll be limited to weekends unless I want to try some more astro-photography on a freezing cold night.
Surprisingly, and to our relief in this era of social distancing we had the place to ourselves, hiding behind the big wall that protects us from the elements here, occasionally popping up like meerkats to scan the horizon and hastily steal a shot from the driving elements that were coming straight at us. At one point a man stood on the quay below us, and before we could say anything a huge roller dumped its contents all over him, chasing him back along the yards to the relative safety of the inner harbour area. Every so often a substantial plume of spray and foam would rise into the air, giving us a split second to turn our backs and guard our precious camera equipment as it landed all over us. At least we were in a safe place, despite what misgivings the scene might be offering you.
And so for a while we watched the light fade as Storm Alex, the first of the season and named by our friends from across the Channel in France, battered the coast. As ever I couldn't resist trying a slightly longer exposure despite the rain and seaspray coming straight at us on the back of a fierce wind. With the trusty shower cap resting on top of the camera I dialled in my settings and tried my best to compose the image. Choosing the moment to expose the camera to the world and take a shot before quickly replacing the shower cap was one of pure chance, although I did manage to grab a small collection of images that I could barely see on my screen. Processing the RAW files also proved difficult and this is one of many versions of the same shot that I'm still struggling with.
But what I love is the drama, with the ever photographed monkey hut almost disappearing into the white water around it. I can't think of a better way to spend a Friday evening than trying to capture an image of the elemental fury around me. This is the Cornwall I love. Wild, brooding and ever changing in its moods where every outing brings challenges and my waterproofs are always in the car. The winter months are often seemingly endless, but if they bring out a passion you can completely lose yourself in, then what's not to love about them?