saltburn
Saltburn. Tomorrow. 4.30pm. Bring your wetsuits.
That was the text I got on Sunday evening and it was a chance too good to turn down. The weather forecast was perfect - sunshine and light winds. The surf forecast was about as good as it gets, apparently.
I can’t surf but my mates can. I can bodyboard - as can anyone over the age of 5 - but it’s been a few years. The lure of a few late-summer hours in the sea and a beach sunset were too strong to resist; Carpe Diem and all that. Volvo packed - it’s the Swedish T5 - I made my way North East to a place I’ve often driven past but never actually explored.
I met one of the other lads a couple of miles out on the road and followed him into town. Parking up, a grin spread across my face. Saltburn bears many of the typical hallmarks of a British seaside town that once played host to Edwardians seeking respite from their working week. Magnificent, curved facades with tired rendering sit behind a raised promenade above an endless tide of white horses rolling onto the sand. Glories past and present aligned with the sunshine and it was the light that really made me smile; hazy beams filtering through the seaspray and a scene painted gold in the way that only occurs on the coast.
We pulled on wetsuits, grabbed various boards and I pondered whether to take all my gear with me down the long flight of stairs to the beach. It’s hard at times balancing your fears as a photographer; do I risk having all my kit nicked whilst I’m in the water or do I risk missing out on some great photos. Instinct won over and I decided to put my faith in the surf Gods to ward off any passing thieves. Turns out it was the right call.
I’d forgotten how much of a buzz it is to be thrown around by a powerful sea, occasionally catching the perfect wave that carries you almost to the shore. Watching my mates was awesome as they got up on their boards time and again - it’s a skill that needs learning when you're a bit younger and a lot more… gymnastic. I’m more than happy to take the easy option and I don’t need another expensive hobby.
Two hours of being battered by the surf gave way to an hour of photography. If we didn’t have dinner at the pub booked, I’d have stayed until sundown. Conditions like this are rare and to be enjoyed, from the deep contrast and layers created by light filtered through mist to the perfect frames and foregrounds for the industrial silhouettes on Saltburn’s horizon. It’s hard not to become obsessed with capturing the shot because you know the chance may never come again but at the same time, you want to enjoy just being there - it’s all part of taking pictures. I’ve travelled the world and photographed a lot of sunsets and hundreds of beaches but few match up to this one, 99 miles from home.
A quick change and a short drive on winding coastal roads took us to the Tiger where some serious portions of steak pie, sticky toffee pudding and couple of pints were downed and we made our way back to the vehicles for some much needed kip on mattresses that love to remind you that you’re no longer 20.
Cheers boys - evenings don’t get much better than that.
