As a general rule of thumb and certainly what we were taught at school, the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. On the whole that is correct and you would have thought that because we live on the east coast of the UK, then we would not (in theory) witness a sunset on this side of our rugged island. However due to the very nature of Britains perimiter, there are a few days in the year when the sun sets over this historic coastline.
Welcome to Saltwick Bay. A land of wave cut jurasic platforms and iconic sea stacks. It is a true magnet for photographers at all times of the year. The best light, arguably, will be witnessed at sunrise and sunset. Low tide will allow you access to the location of Black Nab and the old ship wreck with its mass of virtual tripod holes where countless photographers have acheived, and failed, to capture its natural beauty. Tying the sunrise times to a low tide narrows the opportunities you have to reach and photograph the nab within any one year. Sunset narrows your 'window' even more and the days can be counted on one hand. AND not using all your fingers!
I knew weeks beforehand that sunset would coincide with a low tide and so it was, we left industrial Teesside and headed for Saltwick under a blanket of thick cloud. But this cloud was different. It's length stopped abruptly leaving clear blue skies and although it was moving west, it was doing so at a snails pace. I knew from experience the strength of sunlight that would skim the earth when the sun dipped below the cloud before dropping below the horizon would be intense and I wasn't wrong.
The first image was taken just seconds before the sun appeared. It shows how close to the horizon the cloud is and the 'gap' in which the sun had to shine through. It was taken as a starter image although it will not win awards, it illustrates the point.
I'll be honest at this point and say I've never seen the gap so narrow!
I knew, or at least had an idea, of the kind of images I wanted and yes a couple of them were in, near and close to where countless other tripods once stood. Incidently, my wife and I were the only other photographers at the location. That in itself is remarkable considering only a few years ago I counted thirty one photographers!
Then it happened. The sun broke through and the landscape became ablaze in a deep crimson hue. It was impossible to look at the light let alone shoot into it and for a brief period, images were made with our backs to the sun!
This image gives an idea how intense the colour was...which for reasons beyond my limited tech' knowledge, is less saturated than the original!
The final image was manageable only when the sun started to dip below the distant sea stack. Even so, it still required a three stop ND grad in an attempt to retain what detail I could. Although the camera's white balance went off the scale in trying to correct the colour, I stayed around 5500 K and try to portray what I saw and how daylight film would have interpritted the scene. To that, the shadow detail remains neutral.
Please click on the images for a larger version.
Thanks, John
