At Sea
Between working as a naturalist on cruise ships, and as a marine mammal observer during noisy industry projects (such as seismic surveys and the construction of offshore wind farms), I spend about half my time at sea.
When I get home, it’s to a flat with salt-encrusted windows where, if I squish my face against the glass (as I sometimes do), I can glimpse the sea at the end of the road. In 10 minutes, I can walk to my regular snorkelling spot. There, I drift around the shallows so stealthily, sneaking up on scorpion fish and blue-rayed limpets, that – more than once – concerned coastal walkers have dashed down to the water’s edge to check I’m conscious. Despite appearances, I am, and I’m having a lovely time.
As a result of all this, much of what I write is sea-centric. And I thought I’d leave it here. Please don’t expect any predictable pattern in what I post, and when, you’ll only be disappointed.
In the Footsteps of Ed Ricketts
It’s a pearl grey morning in Monterey when I visit the bronze bust of Ed Ricketts. It stands at the intersection of Wave Street and Drake Avenue, beside Monterey Bay Recreation Trail. Cyclists whizz past behind me on e-bikes following what used to be the route of the railway line as I read the inscription beneath the bust.
Edward Ricketts
1897 – 1948
Marine biologist, philosopher, writer, ecologist, and friend to many. Immortalised as ‘Doc’ of John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row, the real man had a profound influence on the thinking of writers, artists and scientists.
The Sea Wall
Pellets of North Sea hit my face as if flung from a slingshot.
My eyes burn. Tipping my head into the onslaught, spray ricochets off my hood and blows up my sleeves as my bare hands grip the boat and I brace to stop my body slamming into the steering position. The water is cold but bearably so, for now.
As the lifeboat climbs the face of the swell, I lean back against the rails and lift my face to the sea once again. The lighthouse on the Isle of May flashes twice to starboard above the lights of four large ships sheltering in the island's lee. That I can make out multiple lights on each vessel now is reassuring. Progress.