Emily Rose, Round Two

The plan was to follow up to my first venture out at sea with another trip just weeks after my November exhibition at the National Marine Aquarium in Plymouth, though unfortunately this had to be put on hold. For the rest of 2015, the Brixham trawler Emily Rose was grounded due to extensive maintenance and repair work, particularly to the roof on the wheelhouse. And while this did allow me to begin work on my 'They Live on in Light', I was somewhat gutted that the momentum on my 'Emily Rose' project had slowed after such a progressive and wonderful start.

Yet as with every year, it wasn't long before Christmas came and went and 2016 was quickly upon me.  I spoke to Arthur during the first week of this new year and with work now completed on the Emily Rose, along with his Caribbean Cruise over for another year, we arranged for my next venture out with the crew for mid January.  

I was really interested in capturing the cold harsh feel of winter fishing.  While many of us will be tucked up in the warmth of our homes during these icy months, the idea that a group of fishermen, 30 miles from the coast, working day in day out and in some of the harshest conditions you could imagine, I always found this difficult to comprehend.  

While I arrived in Brixham on the Wednesday, the other crew members were delayed and instead expected till the following morning. I spent much of the afternoon and evening taking in the goings on around the harbour, the sights and many sounds, before Arthur and I enjoyed a good helping of evening fish and chips from the local Rockfish chippy.  This time around, I had my very own bunk and as the night drew in, I got my head down for a few hours.

Arthur Dewhirst, Skipper of the Emily Rose

Early evening at Brixham harbour (Instagram)

My bunk for the journey (Instagram)

It was a much smaller team this time round, with Arthur also getting his scrubs on and pulling shifts on deck; 18 hours on, 6 hours off for this crew of three. I didn't envy the graft one bit, and these weren't young guys either. Seeing them in action really did put me to shame, as I'm sure you can guess what is coming next.

Clifford Warren (right) and Sean 'Scribo' Scrivens

Ship to ship chats in the harbour (Instagram)

The freezer room is filled with ice (Instagram)

Not more than 30 minutes after leaving Brixham harbour and my legs turned to jelly.  The gentle calm that was contained in the wake disappeared as we hit open seas; rough waves lifting the trawler back and forth with absolute ease.  I felt awful, throwing up over and over till there was nothing left inside me. Even then I was still trying, with only belching noises followed by long stringy spit (my apologies for that description).  I literally thought having done so well during the last outing (or at least towards the back end of the week), having braved that gale force 8 storm and rode the waves like a complete champion, I was cured forever of seasickness.  I was a sailor now.  I had my very own sea legs and nothing could stop me!  But no, that was not quite how it worked.

Leaving Brixham, moments before I was sick (Instagram)

For the next four days I was a complete and utter wreck. I was so disappointed with myself and cursed the fact. I just kept muttering next time, next time I'll take the tablets in between further bouts of throwing up.  Given how I felt and how much time I spent in my bunk (it seemed the only place where I kept things down), you'd be surprised I even took any photos at all. Yet I did.  And just as I did during the last trip, I came back with some crackers.  

Cliffy rescued the trapped Gull and helped it safely overboard

Cliffy working the deck (Instagram)

The Squid actually managed to pull itself up and over and make it back to the sea

Another cold day draws to a close

After four days with no food and most of my Christmas weight now feeding the fishes, things started to get a little better for me.  Despite the way I had been feeling, I was immensely happy with the images taken and I was just glad for the opportunity once again to be out here doing something I loved. It is not every day you get to see scenes like the above, and below.

The familiar sight after a haul (Instagram)

Another 'Poseidon' maybe?

With storm Jonas heading towards the UK following its battering of the States, we headed back a few days early. You could really feel a bitterly cold change to the already icy temperature, the swell of the waves expanding in size that compared very much to last time's gale force 8. With a smaller crew it wasn't worth the risk. They had done a stellar job, worked harder than anyone I could have imagined, in conditions and an environment never gentle on the skin or senses. And there was me, pretty much wetter than most of the catch. I had a very long way to go before I could ever compared myself to a fisherman.

Back on dry land at Brixham Harbour (Instagram)

Since my return, my website has been updated with many more photos from this trip and I really feel like this series is beginning to tell a wonderful story of what life onboard a trawler is really like. I plan to head back out to sea with the Emily Rose during the latter part of March, with two (possibly three) more trips to see me through to June where I will conclude the project. Though next time I will stock up on various tablets and methods to combat sea sickness. I know who I am now, and its not nowhere near the levels of Arthur Dewhirst and his fine crew.   

Sunset Love

This image below represented a number of goals back when this was taken in 2010 and during my first term and year at Plymouth College of Art.  Not only was it the beginning of what I now consider to have been a long yet fruitful journey into the technicalities of editing, it was also my very first sale through Norman Holmes at Kaya, a gallery quaintly situated on the Barbican in Plymouth. 

Sunset Love

Sunset Love was created during a module to introduce myself and other first year students to the formal elements of photography, with one lecture in particular devoted to the idea of colour.  This photo was also purposely shot over-exposed as a post production test to show what can be achieved when using Adobe Bridge.  

Prior to my time at Plymouth College of Art, I had only ever shot in JPEG format, simply due to a lack of knowledge and awareness of NEF.  Instantly my mind was blown away during my first session using Bridge; honestly I could not believe the amount of control I now had at my disposal, along with the ability to essentially rescue an image, whether under or over exposed.  In such a short space of time, it was if I had been granted some special magical power (Bridgify!) and a whole new world of creativity was opened. 

A year later I moved from Adobe Bridge to Lightroom 3 and I never looked back. Ever since I was young I had always wished to have some ability to draw or paint, yet my skills to this day are still pretty shocking, unless you consider stickmen to be the pinnacle of artistic prowess.  Photography has allowed me to express myself in a way I never knew possible; the tools of this trade quickly become my canvas and paint brush and I am able to place my creative stamp on the many wonderful and daily visions that surround me.  Editing in my eyes goes hand in hand with photography and I will happily challenge anyone that says otherwise, though of course it does and should come down to a intelligent level of control. Moving sliders this way and that just because you can, doesn't necessarily mean that you should, and perhaps this is why I generally stay clear of the HDR brigade and other overly saturated works of art.  Each to their own I guess.

My only regret regarding this photo is that I no longer have the original NEF file, only the edited TIF remaining on multiple hard drives.  For the life of me I have no idea why this is the case, particularly since I still have the other images from the same shoot from all those years ago.  Like Pegasus, it is a photo that means a lot to me; my first sale with Norman, a giant step forward into the world of photography and post production, comprised and composed in a picturesque view of what I simply call home.