Thursday, November 06, 2014

Some old wrecks


More boats, but I don't think these will ever go to sea again. Old hulks like these, in an estuarine corner on the the Diben peninsular north-east of Morlaix, often seem to be kept as a feature of the landscape, something of a melancholy  tourist attraction, a rather typically Breton 'as we are so shall you be' kind of thing, perhaps. Making our westerly trips in the quiet, out-of-season, early autumn as we do, their wistful, russet and peeling hanging on seems agreeably apposite.


















(The person in the foreground above isn't an old wreck, I hasten to add, but a very shipshape and seaworthy fellow!)

9 comments:

marja-leena said...

Gorgeous colours and textures about the passage of time!

Catalyst/Taylor said...

Ah, the days to sea, now long gone. Wonderful photos, especially of that guy.

Sabine said...

So very beautiful.

The Crow said...

The peeling paint and faded colors hint strongly of the bright beauties these dear old relics once must have been. I can imagine them against a deep blue sea, bobbing up and down on the waves.

Great photos, Lucy - especially of Tom!

Lucas said...

No Longer functional, these sea going vessels have been transformed into objects full of pathos, and now through your photos into art. I think the picture of Tom is great, as it shows how, in a sense, the beauty could not be seen without an observer.

Zhoen said...

Decrepitude, with beauty.

Roderick Robinson said...

You are wasted on spider's webs and euphorbia which hardly need your alchemical skills. You have an eye for artefacts, more than that you seem drawn to them: tenderising straight lines and (as in this case) profiting from unexpected colours.

If I had the money I'd finance you a trip to the Aral Sea, once a gigantic lake in southern Kazakhstan, now a substantial desert. In a landscape otherwise devoid of anything man-made is a largish boat (not quite a ship, perhaps a ship-ette). The sense of dislocation is awful (in the old sense) and I would encourage you to capture it with your camera. Travelling by camel, sleeping in a yurt and drinking tea ameliorated with butter that's gone off - does the idea appeal? Just say the word.

Earlier I noticed you in a puckish mood on the subject of babies. As the post continued your puckishness advanced and I held my breath - was Swift's modest proposal just around the corner? If anyone could get away with it, you could. As it was you stopped short of shocking the nation, leaving me relieved and (secretly) disappointed. Gosh, Luce, you were terribly brave.

Lucy said...

Thanks dears. I think their forlorn and contrary beauty is appreciated generally, hence no one clears them away.

Robbie - thank you. One of the things I liked with those webs was the grid of the chain link fence overlaying them. My nephew worked in Kazakhstan some years ago, he mentioned the Aral Sea is no longer a sea, I didn't know about the ship's graveyard. There is something about ship carcases that fascinates people.

Who was it said, I like babies but I couldn't eat a whole one? Not Swift anyway. I seem to remember Stephen Fry wanted to read A Modest Proposal at one of the Live Aid gigs, but wasn't allowed. In fact I don't much like Stephen Fry, finding him somewhat of a patronising bore, an opinion which would probably draw down far more opprobrium in polite liberal circles than any whimsical suggestion about eating babies, but he's had his moments.

polish chick said...

boats, old or new, are always so beautiful. i don't quite know what it is about them that makes them so photogenic.