Reflections

The battle of Porth Nanven
If you’ve been here you’ll know it’s one of Cornwall’s gems, the place simply oozes photographic opportunities. If there was a photographic Wembley this would be it. The wind was a belter, in the car park we struggled to stand. The shaft of the valley was like a giant vacuum cleaner. Moving down to the rocky bay, the waves were crashing and the adrenalin was now pumping. The excitement of being here is almost overwhelming. No one else here… great! … I opted for a stitch for starters, took 7 vertical images and all was well, the weather is still dry the wind isn’t so strong down here and the opportunities seem endless…where shall I go now?

Moving around a bit…try this I thought…and then that. A low angle… a rocky lead in, perhaps. No I don’t like that….too much clutter. A crashing wave with retreating wave streaks. Still no good, the breaking water means I can’t keep the set up long enough to attach an ND. We move to the side of the bay, a high vantage point, not sure that’s working either. The sun is coming up over our left shoulder, it’s mid morning and we’re in the best spot in Cornwall, but something here is eluding me. The sea keeps encroaching each time I get in a good position…it’s like he is toying with me, twice I hoist up my tripod and step onto a higher rock as the water encapsulates my standing rock. The wave thunders in ..my feet get covered, damn I’m not wearing my wellies … I left them at home. I am starting to suffer, the sea spray is all over my lens, my filters need constant attention. I’m getting annoyed – it’s as if the sea is picking a fight with me. I move two maybe three times more – I wrestle with my thoughts… I WILL find the right shot I know I will. I’m in the right place, the weather is spectacular so why is this not happening? I sit awhile - gather my thoughts and pluck up a bit more courage and enthusiasm… I pull out the small flask of coffee I made at 6am this morning at the Travelodge… “nice coffee” I thought….probably not, but it was a welcome break.

Now feeling emotional, slightly cheated too. The sea is playing with me, he wants me to push him, test him even. He won’t let me take his picture today… It feels like I am battling with a God…. Is there a sea God?… it feels like it!

For heavens sake this is Porth Nanven, my Wembley! … I CAN play here! I feel a bit angry now.

The weather is starting to turn, the wind has picked up pace, the cloud has become almost solid and heavy, the forecast said the rain will be arriving by midday - just time for one more sortie down to the rocks.

A good central position – a balanced view, boulders and wave streams, pebbles and curvy lines everywhere. At last I found the spot, low down, the waves threading themselves through the boulders and the Bryson’s majestic in the distance … it’s perfect, the sky is heavy and dramatic - the sea is?……………THUNDERING at me like an angry steam engine! …I have enough time to jump with my already soaked left foot onto a metre high boulder… I grab my rucksack and camera laden tripod, one with each hand as the wave smashes into the boulder.
I’m on the rock alone, even though I'm perched on the rock the water is knee height. I'm soaked and my kit was high in the air. …that was the closest shave…. A ‘don’t mess with me” warning!

What now?

The sea had won this battle … I conceded!

But I will return!