…ane wounderful crag, risland within the sea, with so narrow a strait hals that na schip nor boit allanerlie at ane part of it. This crag is callet the Bas; unwinnabil by ingine of man…Every thing that is in that crag is ful of admiration and wounder.
Hector Boece (1465-1536)
Jacki McNeill, editor of the fortnightly Aldeburgh Gazette, [talking about the rigidity of the sculpture, says] “If we get a howling north-westerly and a surge tide it will simply fall over.”
“I’m sure there will also be acts of vandalism. It’s an invitation in the summer when we have our fair share of unsavoury visitors from all sections of society braying. They’ll go up there for parties. They’re going to get out of their head on one thing or another.”
Mrs McNeill regards the change of heart at Suffolk Coastal as a victory for democracy, for she has been “inundated” with complaints against the sculpture.
“There has been so little support for this thing in the town. The depth of feeling cuts right across every section of this town, from the fishermen to people like knights and peers of the realm.
“It’s seen as an act of sheer arrogance to place this in the middle of one of the only bits of untouched beach in the area, and a bit of coast which is very deeply loved by local people. I’m incensed by it. Who do they think they are?”
Humphrey Burton, the former head of music and arts at BBC Television, used to support the Scallop project but has since expressed his disappointment with it.
“It’s hard to keep silent when one’s regular walk by the open sea has been so casually violated,” he wrote in a letter to The Guardian. “A peaceful and honourable solution ought to be found before vandalism rears its ugly head. I’ve heard talk of its being toppled, Saddam-like, at dead of night.”
Daily Telegraph, 24th January, 2004
Scores of grey seals have hauled themselves onto the beach, to bask in the raking light of the late afternoon sun.
I was tidying out the attic a few days ago, and came across a box of undeveloped films. I’m hoping to process them all over the next few weeks, and this was one of the first ones to get done. They are shots of Cromer. I can’t remember taking these photographs, but it’s clear that the film had lain around for some time – maybe about fifteen years – and it had deteriorated somewhat, which is evident from the quality of the prints. Having said that, the images themselves are reminiscent of the way memories deteriorate when locked away in the mind, and then suddenly (and unexpectedly) exposed to the light.
SS Fernebo, built by Oskarshamns Mek. Verks. A/B, Oskarshamn in 1912 and owned at the time of her loss by Ångbåts A/B Ferm (A. Broström & Son), Göteborg, was a Swedish steamer of 1440 tons.
On January 9th, 1917, whilst on a voyage from Gävle to London with a cargo of timber, the ship was mined by German submarine UC-19 near Foulner Bouy, and then beached 3 miles northeast of Cromer.
It now rests on the beach about a quarter of a mile to the east of the pier, where it can be seen at low tide.
a pink moon rising
and the golden sun setting
in perfect balance