Twitching On Death Rocks, Northumberland

Hello again,

Welcome to another blog entry form the Roaming Mackem Photographer.

Today I'm gonna cover another outing with my camera - a recent visit to Dunstanburgh Castle, on a stunning stretch of coatline in Northumberland. The location is just over an hours drive from my home in Houghton le Spring, so that would give me time to wake up properly after a 5.15am alarm call after a night on the lager. I didn't have much of a hangover, to be honest, and nowt that a McDonald's breakfast wouldn't fettle. So a wash and a quick cup of coffee was in order, before hoying my gear into the car and heading out. The camera bag was organised and ready the night before, and all batteries fully charged. Nowt left to do but pick my brother up and head north out of God's Country. It was 6.15am and we were on the A1(M) - a straight road to our turn off, one hour up the road.

On arrival we dropped anchor near Dunstanburgh Steads, a small holding with surrounding houses, just south of Embleton. A dirt track reaches a dead end near a golf course, so we dropped anchor and I changed into wellies for the assault across Death Rocks and the outgoing tide. Another car pulled in next to us. A guy got out and we greeted each other with the obligatory 'Good Morning' salute. He saw me with my wellies on and asked if it was muddy where we were heading. I told him it was going to be very wet, hence the footwear, and he just laughed. I asked him if he was here to take photographs, which he was. I then asked if travelled far. He replied 'I'm from MANSFIELD' !!!   'Bloody hell' I replied ... 'You're keen aren't ya'. He then said he hadn't travelled from there, he was staying nearby for a few days. Oh well, that makes more sense, ha ha.

So, we headed off near sand dunes towards Death Rocks, laden with camera gear, tripods, drone, etc. Oh aye, the drone was along for the ride too. No show without Punch. We walked along the edge of the golf course towards the castle, which was far easier than negotiating the heavy sand dunes with all that weight on our backs. It was from here that I took a first good look at the dawn sky backdrop of the castle. After all, this is where my camera is going to be pointing towards, and also being the purpose of this morning's trip north. Plan A, to photograph the ruins of Dunstanburgh Castle @ Sunrise. Plans are never that straightforward though, are they? We can but try. But this particular plan involved a scramble across a rather tricky boulder field, known as DEATH ROCKS! Without further ado ...

After a ten minute walk across the golf course we headed down towards the sea, which was rolling in quite aggressively. Quite big waves were crashing in, which was a reminder that what was about to unfold was going to be no walk in the walk. This brings me nicely on to the title of this blog entry. Twitching, eh. Oh, he's gone out to look at sea birds through his binoculars, you said. Gulls, cormorants and Shags, you said. Ticking them off on a nerdy tick list with his little pencil, you said. Oh no, not in the slightest. You see folks, when I say 'Twitching' I refer to the actions of my arse. Yes, ya know when you're shitting bricks and sweating profusely at your actions? Well, that's what I'm talking about. This was nee chilled out stroll along the beach, whistling merrily with a smile on my face. It was more akin to walking across slippery rocks like Bambi on ice. Oh yes, I wish I could see myself. Is that really me? In my defence I hasted to add, these rocks aint called DEATH ROCKS for nowt. No doubt I was following in the footsteps of many a tog. I remember a fellow tog called Terry Cavner (from Blyth) being airlifted off the rocks by a rescue chopper, when he fell and broke a leg. Hopefully I wasn't about to do a 'Terry' me'sel!

I was in position on the rocks around 30 minutes before sunrise. As the tide retreated I found myself moving further out with it, as I wanted to catch some water movement when the sun finally showed up. A couple of other togs joined us, pitching nearby and both waiting for some nice colour in the sky. Just then a freak wave crashed in and around us, spilling over my welly tops and giving my feet a nice north sea welcome. The tripod stayed upright ... just! One of the blokes lost his tripod bag. I noticed it floating away with the receding tide. Unlucky eh. I was lucky myself. My camera bag was sat on a nearby rock when that wave came in. I managed to lift it up at the last second to avoid the wave. Now, that would have been messy ... and expensive! Get the bloody bag on your back, I told myself. Can't be dealing with another wave like that. Oh yes, me arse was twitching again. Bloody mad. The things ya do for a decent shot. Well that put paid to me pushing the envelope. I wasn't gonna move out with the tide, I was staying put - water movement or not. Guess I'll just settle for some rocky foreground and hope for some colour in the sky.

A few minutes later a hint of red showed up amongst the clouds behind the castle. That'll do nicely. A few minutes later there were nice red ripples spreading out, offering a great backdrop. Time to start shooting that scene in front of me. I was cold and very wet from the waist down, but what the hell, eh. Par for the course, I told myself, in a consoling way. In a flash the colourful sky had diminished and the sun was up behind Dunstanburgh Castle. By this time I had my shot in the bag, so it was another job done - time to get off those ghastly rocks. Bye bye, see you again soon ...NOT!

The wind had picked up quite a lot, so I decided not to send the done up. Maybe next time. All that was left to do was head back to the car and get those feet warmed up. Heaters on full pelt, off in a flash and back onto the A1(M). Not for lang though, as we stopped off at McDonalds near Alnwick, to refuel, so to speak. Hey that coffee and breakfast wrap was summat else. You better believe it. I felt like laughing when I was drinking that liquid life saving lotion that is hot coffee. Odd behaviour, granted, but when in a state of semi-hysteria, this is what happens to me LOL. Much needed, especially after freezing me balls off on a cold December morning by the north sea. I hope you like the photographic fruits of my labour. I think it was worth it. The sky could have been a lot worse, unlike those rocks and waves, but all part of the fun. A couple of weeks on and I'm glad to report that my arse has finally stopped twitching. It was an experience, to put it mildly. All in a days work of the Roaming Mackem Photographer. Until the next time folks ...

Be good, AC

(thanks to Chris Corr for 3 photo's of me, when the tide had backed off)

Surfed Up a Treat (Part 1)

Welcome back to the blog page of the wandering Mackem photographer. So far 2016 has been a complete washout as far as the weather has been concerned, with overcast skies and rain in abundance, so I'm far from surprised at the typical English weather January has delivered up to now. Photography isn't all about blue skies and a red hot sun, as any decent tog will tell you, it's all about capturing the moment in all weather, which is the beauty of my hobby - every season has something new to offer. Sunday January 3rd typified a miserable cold and windy day in the North-East of England. Looking out the window at home I saw nothing to get excited about, so after sitting down to a lovely Sunday roast I decided to park my backside once again and out came the ipad. I had a quick browse through Facebook and noticed a set of photographs by a local press photographer, Owen Humphrey's, who'd captured some big wave action at Seaham Harbour, a 15 minute drive from my home. At that point I thought about taking myself across there to see if the surf was still kicking hell out of the North Pier wall. Although I'd missed high tide by a couple of hours I still expected the show to be gathering momentum, so off I went with my Canon and telephoto lens.

It wasn't long before I arrived at the coast, swinging right after the Seaham Hall turn off and seeing how rough the sea was at Vane Tempest. I was most definitely in luck. I headed straight down to the harbour and parked near the end of the North Pier - a front row seat as far as entertainment goes. Well I wasn't gonna bag the shots I wanted from the car window and I had no intention of staying off the sand, so off I went, with tool bag and tripod for company. There was a few people dotted about on the small section of sand in the Harbour. At first I set my camera up on the tripod and aimed in straight at the lighthouse, which was clearly the focal point of the composition and a subject that was clearly receiving major abuse from the cruel North Sea. This was Mother Nature at her best, or worst, whichever side of the fence you prefer. Kids ran around on the sand in front of me, adding some much needed foreground interest. Weather photographs, especially in adverse conditions, are most eye-catching with an added human element, so it was my task to pull in a few action shots to depict an aspect of fearless photography. More on that later.

I ran off a few shots remotely, observing the waves and pressing the button when the big boys gave the pier a back-hander. What a sight! Only two days previously I witnessed a fine Aurora display by Mother Nature and here I was, literally a few hours later, watching her carve out some magic once again. A Canon 5D3 was used to pull in the shots, combined with a 75-300mm lens, which was ideal and up to the task in front of me. Focus lock on was instant, as it should be, and when more people showed up on the beach I took the camera off the legs and shot handheld for the remainder of the hour or so I was on location. I got chatting to a fellow photographer, Alan Cook, who I 'd met previously at Penshaw Hill, Sunderland. Great bloke and we had a laugh in between shots. Still running handheld, it was ideal, swinging the camera here, then there, not wanting to miss a slice of the action. The gloves were still at home though - not sure what I was thinking about there, but I do know my hands were heading towards Numb Street, a very long street at that. I was friggin' freezing!!!! What to do eh, other than grit ones teeth and suck a lemon.

Then the star turn arrived. Now, this had to be seen to be believed. A pair of adrenaline junkies from a local kayak club decided to wade in and compete with the surf. Oh dear, surely this was a David and Goliath scenario, with only one outcome. Me and Alan gave each other an odd look when the pair headed into the water, albeit for a very short time before being tipped out and onto their arses. Surely they were risking their lives! And this is where the fearless photography comes in. Their determination was to be admired, but that was easily overshadowed by the thought in my head that these two blokes had mentally lost the plot. I wondered whether it really was two blokes out there, or John & Ann Darwin, in disguise - click here for the connection.  It wasn't long before they attempted another entry, only to be thrown over once again, resulting in the pair giving up the ghost completely. A blessing in disguise, if ya ask me. How on earth they thought they'd beat the adverse weather conditions is beyond me. God loves a trier, but this was just plain idiotic!

After an hour of photography I called it a day and headed back to the car, where a nice cup of coffee was waiting. Very much needed. I sat in the car as I downed it and watched the last of the surf before heading back home. Later that evening I had a look through the shots on the back of my camera - they looked quite good, so it was mission accomplished. It wasn't until I viewed them on the laptop that I decided to post one or two on Facebook. I was a bit unsure at first, but decided to upload them as my first post of the new year. The response I received was very flattering and I was quite surprised, to be honest. I added a set of 5 shots to three different pages, which raked in over 1,000 likes, as well as many positive comments, which was very nice. The best thing though was witnessing such a spectacular show at Seaham Harbour. Mother Nature throws up some interesting events, with this being up there with the best of them. 2016 kicked off in fine style. Part 2 of this episode is coming soon. Stay tuned!
Thanks again for visiting my blog.

Ash

Old Hartley, Whitley Bay (Part 1)

The Christmas holiday period presented opportunities for me to capture sunrises on the North-East coast, so I ventured out to new territory to do exactly that, and as a result it proved a very wise move. St Mary's Lighthouse, just north of Whitley Bay, has been a fairly regular haunt of mine of the last few years, particularly at sunrise, and although I've had my fair share of false dawns during this time, I've been lucky to capture one or two cracking red skies before the sun rose over the North Sea. It's pot luck, to be honest, but you've got to be in it to win it, as someone once said. The law of averages would give a firm impression that from six visits you are likely to see between one and two good sunrises, and by this I'm expecting good colour and cloud formation, as well as seeing the sun as it rises on the horizon. Low cloud cover often scuppers this.

And so, to my first ever visit to Old Hartley, a small bay between St Mary's Island and Seaton Sluice. A short walk from the small car park on the cliff top led me towards the steep concrete steps where I gained access to the beach. Not a great deal of sand to be had, as rock formation covered the majority of the bay. And if it's good rock formation you're after for detailed foreground interest, it doesn't come much better than this. By the time I arrived the tide was on its way back in and around half way. Because of this I was able to get out and explore the flat table of rocks to my left, which stretched out quite far and despite the incoming tide there it was safe enough to spend some time out there without being cut off. A couple of photographers appeared shortly after I had set my gear up. There was also one or two silhouetted figures on the cliff tops, crouched behind tripods and waiting for the sun to show up.

A warm yellow glow on the horizon behind the lighthouse was enough to get my firing off my first shots. At this point I could tell it was going to be a productive morning and the best was yet to come. As sunrise drew ever closer the colours in the sky were continually changing, especially 5-10 minutes before sun up when a nice pink/red hue took over the clouds. And it wasn't long before the sun made its appearance. At this point I headed out onto the flat rocks to get a better view of it. I was mindful of the incoming tide and made a decision to keep things brief. I'd been at Old Hartley for a good 90 minutes and pulled in some nice shots, especially the first half dozen efforts of the morning. I imagine this place will be a regular haunt in future and I look forward to photographing the same location later in the year when the sun rises further north. I'll keep you posted on any developments.
Hope you like these shots...
Cheers, Ash

 

Saltwick Bay, North Yorkshire Coast

Following on from my recent Whitby blog entry, here is the latest instalment featuring Saltwick Bay. The Bay is a north east-facing bay situated 1 mile south of Whitby. Above the bay is Whitby Holiday Park, where we stayed over the course of a weekend in May, with the Cleveland Way cliff top path running through it. Access to the beach is via a footpath just beyond the park's gate. The path has suffered from some erosion and in places can be quite steep and also very slippery when wet. The path leads down to the sandy beach which gives way to rock and slate scar at either end. To the left is Saltwick Nab and to the right is Black Nab. If fishing from either end, be aware of the tide, as it travels quickly across the scar. The beach and rocks reveal much of Saltwick's alum mining past, and it is also a great venue for finding fossils. Saltwick Bay has many photographic opportunities due to its North-East facing coastline. This means that at the height of summer the sun sets over the sea when looking North-West as well as rising over the sea when looking North-East. In this respect, this small part of the Yorkshire coastline is unique in the whole of Northern England. The Bay also has a sandy beach either side of which is a flat, shale shelf (the Southern and Northern Shelves). These shale shelves are littered with texture-filled (and possibly fossil-filled) shale rocks. On the southern shelf is the local icon “Black Nab” and the remains of the wreck of the 'Admiral Von Tromp'. On the Northern Shelf is the other local Icon 'Saltwick Nab', which from a distance makes the outline of a whale.

I was out of bed bright and early to catch a sunrise on our second full day at the Holiday Park. It was a bit of a wash out to be honest, with very little colour on offer as the sun rose and quickly disappeared behind the low bank of cloud cover on the horizon. The tide was advancing at a fast rate so I kept this in mind as I photographed from a position at the cliff foot (see top photo). Because of the lack of sunrise I was back up the steep cliff path and back to the caravan within an hour of leaving it behind. Infact, no sooner was I back in the caravan and my head was down once again. Can't beat an already warm comfy bed. The Mrs was none the wiser! On the way back to the caravan I was already planning a return visit to the bay later that day, when the tide had retreated. The mission was to find the wreck of The Admiral which I had read about on the internet earlier in the week. I knew it was located somewhere in a hole on the Southern Shelf, so plans were made and later put into action. On our return the tide was way back, leaving the path clear to explore the bay in greater detail. Firstly I took a few black and white shots, one of which you can see in this paragraph. 

A ten minute walk along the Southern Shelf was all it took to get our first glimpse of the ship wreck. The mangled metal, twisted and eroded stuck out like a sore thumb and it was no time at all before we were on site of the mysterious remains.  The Admiral Von Tromp was a fishing vessel from Scarborough which came aground during a storm in 1976 with the loss of 2 lives. Not much of it remained, although the curved bow was instantly recognisable as it sat slumped to one side in the hole. Remnants of the engine sat nearby, covered in limpets, offering a reminder of its sorry state. Black Nab sits in the background of my third shot (shown here). At high tide the nab resembles that of a submarine floating near the sea surface. I walked out to the Nab to take my final shot (below). The colourful flat rock formation is quite an eye catcher as you walk along the ridge to the Nab, which rises approximately 18 feet to its tip.

The kids were more than happy to scan the rock pools as I photographed nearby. After landing a few crab they had to be persuaded to leave the beach! Even the lure of Fish n' Chips wasn't enough to get them walking instantly - they would've stayed there all day if I had let them. It was a nice way to kill a couple of hours, that's for sure. I'd like to return to Saltwick Bay for another crack at sunrise photography. I imagine this place would look the part with a good sunrise, especially at low tide when I can get the shipwreck in the foreground. But that's one for another day. Until then I'll keep this place on my list of places to revisit. It's certainly worth that...

Until next time, Ash

Bamburgh Dunes, Northumberland

The Northumberland Coastal Route has a stretch of coastline that is up there with the best, at least in the UK. A few weeks ago I found myself driving these roads again and one thing is sure, you never seem to tire of them, no matter how often you cover them. Of course the weather plays a big part, as it does no matter where you travel, and this day in particular was fine, with almost clear sky despite the obvious chill in the air. After taking in Amble, Druridge Bay and Craster, I found myself at Bamburgh, just as the sun was preparing to set. I arrived at Bamburgh and headed along the Windings to a secluded car park next to the sand dunes. Bamburgh Castle sat at the top of a massive outcrop, dominating the skyline in front of me. I managed to get my gear set up as the sun threw a massive shaft of light through across the castle. I was alone in the dunes, give or take the odd person or two passing through, although the beach behind me was busy with dog walkers and the like, at low tide. As the sun was ready to set the deep orange hue threw the walls of Bamburgh Castle into fine colour, as was the grasses in front of me, although I had hoped for more movement which I never got due to the lack of wind and breeze. Never mind, the conditions were still ideal so I grabbed a few shots before the sun made its bow. It had been a great day for photography - stops at Warkworth & Alnwick proved more than worthwhile, as you may have seen the results in my recent blog entries. If you want coastline then get yourself to Northumberland, there's more than enough that catches the eye, plus there's even more further north in the shape of Holy Island & Lindisfarne, just take notice of the tides and the safe crossing times over the causeway!

Back soon,
Ash

North Yorkshire Coastal Route - Pt 1

Saltburn By The Sea

Another day out by the sea, from Houghton le Spring to Robin Hood's Bay, via the North-Yorkshire coastal route. No car journey from Tyne & Wear to the quiet olde worlde fishing village of Robin Hood's Bay would be the same by taking the 'Route One' path, missing out the towns and views that lie in between. This stretch of coastline has a lot to offer the tourist, if he or she is prepared to go looking for it, so you'd be cheating yourself if you didn't make the effort. I say this because of the picturesque towns and villages that lie along the coast, just waiting to be picked off, one after another. Forty Four miles into the journey we find ourselves at our first stop-off, at Saltburn By The Sea, a town that has retained much of its charm as a Victorian seaside resort. Saltburn has the oldest water-balanced cliff tramway that is still in operation, linking the town with the pier 120 feet below. You can park the car at sea level where the old fishing village straddles Skelton Beck. The Ship Inn remains as a focal point, steeped in smuggling folklore, but there wasn't time to prop up the bar today, opting for Fish n' Chips at lunchtime instead. The takeaway next to the pier car park comes well recommended - trust me.

The fully operational Water Tram Lift and Pier are without doubt the most eye-catching attractions at Saltburn, which is why I decided to photograph them during our one hour pit stop. The weather was fine, although a tad on the windy/chilly side, and the fluffy clouds had me reaching into the 'Tool Box' for my Circular Polariser - a must for these conditions. My first shot shows Saltburn Pier, stretching out towards the North Sea, propping up many a visitor that decided to tread its boards. A stretch of pier railings was adorned with knitted figures to commemorate thesforthcoming Olympic Games in London, although mystery surrounds the origins of this artwork and who was responsible for attaching it to the pier. Rumour spread recently that it was attached to the railings during the early hours when no-one was around to witness it. Dozens of knitted characters, featuring athletes from various disciplines, such as Cycling, Running, Rowing, Fencing and Swimming, covered at least 40 feet of the pier railings - hours of work and effort, from an unknown creator! A small section of it is shown in my second photograph.

After lunch we headed, rather gingerly, up the steps towards the top of the Water Lift tracks. From here there was an excellent view across the bay of Saltburn, including the Beach, Pier and Water Lift, right ahead of us. A brief history of the Water lift...

The two 10 person cars are each fitted with a 1,000 imperial gallons (4,500 L) water tank, and run on parallel standard gauge 1,435 mm (4 ft 8 1⁄2 in) funicular railway tracks. Double steel wire ropes are attached to both cars, controlled by a brakeman in the upper station. The car at the top has its water tank filled until its mass exceeds the mass of the car at the bottom. It then travels down the incline, counter-balanced by the mass of the other car, which travels to the top, with the brakeman controlling safety and the speed of travel. When the car reaches the bottom, its water is released thus reducing the mass of the lower car, and pumped back up to the top of the cliff. It is believed that the Cliff Lift opened on Saturday 28 June 1884, but there was a period of inconsistent operation at the start. The opening of the Cliff Lift allowed the pier company to undertake an extension to that structure. The original cars, capable of seating 10-12 passengers, had stained-glass windows. But when the Cliff Lift was refurbished in 1955, the car bodies were replaced without these. When the wholly new aluminium cars were introduced in 1979, modelled on the original design, stained-glass windows were reinstated. Owned since post-World War II by the local council, Marks' design was so good that, beyond maintenance and refurbishment, little has changed since 1884. In 1924 an electrically operated water pump was installed, and in 1998 the main winding wheel was replaced for the first time, together with the installation of a new hydraulic braking system.

The best view across the sands were up top next to the Water lift, as it led the eye straight into the composition, taking me through the frame that was interesting from front to back. Positioning the moving Tram in the composition was pretty straightforward - I thought the shot would balance better with the car at a certain point on the track as I fired the shutter. It worked well, as did another effort with the stationery car at the top, preparing its descent to the promenade below. Many a lazy bugger used the tram lift, opting to dodge the steps, taking the preferred soft option. Mind you, if it wasn't for the lazy folk there would have been no tram movement and ultimately no photographs of it in operation - so maybe I should take back those criticisms and thank myself lucky. Maybe I've just had too much my own way, he he, Fish n' Chips weshed doon wi Coca-Cola - not to be sniffed at. Returning to the car we found we were blocked in by an Ambulance, for a good 30 minutes. Lights flashing, and judging the way the Ambulance was bouncing up and down it seemed someone inside was most definitely in a bad way. Eventually it drove off - lights off and no sirens - not a good sign.

We then headed down the coast to our next anchorage, Staithes - A 9 mile journey to another idyllic fishing village on the North-Yorkshire Coast. Coming next...

Cheers, Ash

St Mary's Island, Whitley Bay

At this time of year my low-light shots always seem to take precedence over any other photography I have planned, mainly due to the short days and convenient times when the light is low. I recently turned out at St Mary's Island, on the Northumberland Coast near Whitley Bay. Another early rise and a 25 minute journey via the Tyne Tunnel to this coastal haunt that has become more of a regular thing for me during recent weeks. Today was one of those disappointing days when the sunrise wasn't a sunrise and drizzle was most definately drizzle - a wipe out in photography terms and certainly not what I was hoping for. I'm sure those people at the Met Office have inside information of when I'm planning a trip up the coast as they always say the right things but the weather on the actual day is quite often a far cry from their earlier prediction. Maybe these weather apps for mobile phones aren't what they're cracked up to be, eh. Ah well, with a 'No Show' from Mr Sun it was a simple case of taking a few photo's for the sheer sake of it, so here are a couple of efforts from last Sunday's visit. I wasn't aware that St Mary's Lighthouse was lit up during the night and this was the first time I'd actually seen it in artificial colour. The tide was very low so the causeway was accessible, although I only photographed from the first half of it and went no further. This is the point where small pools of sea water offer reflection and this lends some content to the shot, rather than a messy foreground, which would have definately been the case with a clutter of rocks without the water. I was the only mug on site today! The last few times I've been here there's been at least 3 other people following suit, but not today folks - just the one 'Muggins' flogging a dead horse, he he. Aye, just wait til the next time though - I'll show ya how it's done (wink). The best part of my 30 minute stay was getting back into the car and opening a flask of coffee. The accompanying Mini Roll made the experience even better, so I sat there and indulged - this was as good as it got, unfortunately. Thank god for Mini-Rolls and allowing myself to be very easily pleased.

The heaters were on and I left the scene. Ah well, with this one behind me I have a feeling I'll hit the bullseye next time. Rough with the smooth, and all that jazz...

Until then, AC

Rocky Foreshore, Dunstanburgh

Hello again. It's been over a week since my last ramblings so I thought it best to show my face again. Not literally of course - wouldn't want to give you nightmares, he he. During May I visited the Northumberland Coast once again. My favourite stretch of coastline is Dunstanburgh to Holy Island, but my latest trip up north saw me dropping anchor at Dunstanburgh Steads. The approach road from the A1(M) reaches a cul-de-sac near the golf course which sits at the edge of the coastal walk between Embleton and Dunstanburgh Castle. After parking up I walked across the sand dunes towards Dunstanburgh Heughs, a place I've visited a few times during the last couple of years. There's a section of coastline that has a boulder field for a good half mile - thousands of almost sphere like black rocks that draw you in for a decent photograph. I timed my visit to coincide with the high tide in an attempt to try out my new set of ND filters. These filters are basically darkened glass, similar to polarizing filters, which reduce the amount of light that passes through the lens, which in turn allows very slow shutter speeds in very bright, sunny conditions. The slow shutter speed would enable me to blur the motion of the incoming tide, giving a kind of milky effect to the water. I like this kind of photography and I was hopeful of getting the shots I wanted.

Of course, slippery rocks and incoming tide aren't ideal conditions - first and foremost there's the safety aspect, followed by the risk of water damage to your gear should the force of the tide turn nasty. A few photographers have become casualties of this well known stretch of coastline, including Terry Cavner, a local photographer who slipped and broke his leg before being airlifted to hospital. 'Tread carefully' I kept reminding myself. The weather was spot on. Warm, sunny, a slight breeze and barely a cloud in the sky. The tide was playing ball too - almost full tide when I arrived at Dunstanburgh Heughs. Time to play. After negotiating the boulder field with the aid of an extended tripod as a walking stick, I was in position and taking my first shots around mid-afternoon. There were a few walkers on the path to my right but no-one on the rocks in front of me, which was ideal - don't want any intruders spoiling my shots, eh. At one point I had three filters fitted to my wide angle lens - ended up with slight vignetting but eliminated it by increasing focal length of the lens, just slightly. After half an hour my legs were on the end of a good soaking from the incoming tide. I wasn't too bothered though as there's always a small price to pay when taking this type of photograph. Push your luck too much and the price could be higher! It's all about common sense really - not pushing the limits. Making pictures in dicey conditions is fine along as you know where to draw the line. I cut in a few times as the tide started to surround my feet - A simple case of staying one step ahead of the game.

After 45 minutes or so I chucked the towel in. Well, not quite, but if I'd got my hands on a towel it would have been handy - I'd been well soaked by this time. I packed up my gear and headed off the boulder field to the safer, dry land. Eyed up a couple of new positions to photograph from, just below Lilburn Tower which sat on the crag above. A grazing field nearby had recently become a pond - something I'd never seen on my previous visits. Steam sat on the water, offering a nice photo into the bargain. A lone fence drew me in as I looked for a reflection of Lilburn Tower in the still water. This is what I saw - shot 3. A nice little composition. A couple of people with camera's came over and nicked my position, not that I minded of course. It was probably the best viewpoint along this coastal stretch. Might as well capture it while you can.

I returned home later that evening and watched a new drama series called Vera, about a Geordie investigator and the pilot episode was shot on the Dunstanburgh coastline where I'd been a few hours earlier. It was interesting stuff. I'd more or less traced their steps.

And that's all for now. From the relaxed peaceful setting of Dunstanburgh to the eerie setting of Hillside Cemetary in Houghton le Spring. That's my next blog entry - coming soon. An interesting one to say the least!!!

Until then, see ya. Ash

Sunderland Coastal Area

Following my visit to Mowbray Gardens I decided to visit the beach at Roker, Sunderland, while the sun was still shining. The broken clouds caught my eye, so thinking they could add to some decent seascape shots I drove across the Wearmouth Bridge and headed for the water. Having done a job in Mowbray Gardens I wondered whether their was similar shots to be had in Roker Park, but a brief stop off proved a waste of time as there was very little colour on show, so it was a case of driving the short distance to the seafront near Roker Hotel. I parked up and took a few steps across the road where my vantage point took in the whole of Roker beach and its well known 'Cat & Dog Steps.' The sands were quite desolate, which was somewhat of a surprise considering the nice weather. There were a fair few walking along the promenade though, towards Seaburn, which lies just along the coastal route, heading north. The tide was low, which wasn't ideal as I'd hoped for some shots with an incoming tide below my vantage point, but I wasn't complaining - I suppose you can only work with what's in front of you!
I was tempted to drop down onto the beach itself but decided against it as I was pushed for time. Anyway, the sea was calm so I wasn't missing much, as far as crashing waves are concerned.

From experience I've found that good beach shots are amongst the hardest to achieve. Last year I was commissioned by the Tourist Board in Sunderland to supply beach shots of Sunderland, which wasn't an easy proposition. I made a few visits to the Roker/Seaburn beach area and planned where to shoot the best scenes, which were mainly up top, overlooking the sands. It was around this time, October 2010, that I'd captured a few sunrise shots, so it was finally time to grab some daytime shots to go with them. I captured 5 shots which were later reproduced as postcards, which have sold well in Sunderland Tourist Information Centre, as well as further sales in the Winter Gardens and Cafe Bungalow, Roker. Examples of the cards can be found here - Postcards > ashley Corr.com. My latest beach shots, shown here, aren't commissioned work, although I do plan to reproduce one as a new postcard which will increase the set to 20. Beach shots are in demand, so I plan to test myself further in the coming weeks to add better shots to my portfolio. A good sky is a must have - get that and you're well on your way! Both beaches in Sunderland (Roker & Seaburn) are very clean and relatively tidy - unlike the beaches further south at Seaham and Easington, where decades of coal mining are still evident on their sands.

The seaside area of Sunderland is buoyant during the Summer months, as expected. The usual run of pubs, restaurants and amusements lie along the promenade, especially at Seaburn, the central area of Sunderland's coastline. Seaburn's Marriot hotel is a popular resting place. Overlooking the North Sea, its easterly facing rooms give perfect views of the sea which often crashes off the nearby walls during the winter months. I remember one day last year when I was fortunate enough to witness the waves in full force, keeping a sensible distance from them and avoiding a soaking, as I took a few photographs. A gang of kids were dodging the waves as they crashed against the wall, but not one of them evaded a soaking. Quite funny at the time!

Once again, thanks for visiting. I'll be back shortly with my latest work - Ripon, North Yorkshire...more of those Mute Swans... Historic Durham...and more.

Catch ya then, Ash

Holy Island & Lindisfarne

The day was Saturday September 12th 2009. My original plan was to head north up the A1 and grab some panoramic landscape shots of Alnwick Castle. It was 11.00am and after realizing that the sun had risen around 5.30am, I had a feeling that by the time I arrived at the castle the sun would have been shining on the wrong side of its walls. Well, I got there to find exactly that. My intended vantage point for photography was now out of the question as the walls were in shade and from where I was standing...well, not much point in flogging a deed horse! So, that was that - it was now time for Plan B.

Plan B was a hastily arranged trip to Holy Island & Lindisfarne, which was a few miles further north. I say 'Hastily' as it was decided in a matter of seconds without any prior knowledge of the day's tide tables. Anyone who knows Holy Island will be well aware that the causeway is flooded at high tide, preventing motorists from making the crossing. I got lucky.

I arrived at the causeway at approximately 11.30am. It was safe to cross and I had until 7.15pm before leaving the island at high tide. So, plenty time to kill and the weather was perfect, a lovely warm day with no breeze and barely a cloud in the sky. After parking on the Island I made my way down to The Heughs, a rugged peice of terrain behind Lindisfarne Priory. It is here that visitors can enjoy great panoramic views of the island, including the Priory ruins as well as the Castle, Marina and even Bamburgh Castle in the distance. A couple of sailing boats were anchored just off the heughs. On one boat was a man playing the violin. You could hear a pin drop on this calm beautiful day as the vioilinist played 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow.'

I took a few shots of the priory ruins before taking a short break on the sand banks nearby. I was planning to photograph the Marina after taking in the tranquil setting for a few minutes. The Marina area is quite photogenic, with old upturned cobles here and there, plus a scattering of lobster pots and anchors.

Before heading off for a spot of lunch at Seahouses, in the shape of Haggis n' Chips, I took a few shots within the grounds of St Ann's Church, including a lovely panorama of Lindisfarne Priory which can be viewed at ashleycorr.com.

Job done! A great day...these Plan B's come in handy from time to time...
Ash