Especially for photographers. England is called the Nanny state more often... And I know why. It becomes very hard to do something, anything in England - without health and safety having a say in it.
Stepping stones in a river get taken away, even if nobody ever fell on them, solely because someone “might” fall on them.
I get very crabby with reasonings like this. They don’t touch reality.
On the nice sunday yesterday my friend Cornflake and I decided to go visit Donna Nook. A nature reservation where seals come to pup. Nothing wrong with that.
People visiting the Nature Reserve usually know what they are in for, as the place is not easy to find. You have to be determined to get there. To watch seals. One would think that people who want to go watch seals and their pups have some knowledge of animal life, and therefore know that any animal with young can be dangerous.
It is the end of October, the seals have come in to pup, but it is really a bit too early. We see lots of bulls and some females. Heavy pregnant. Basking in the sun coming and going as the weather is really blustery. We are talking grey seals, a more or less big colony of them at the Lincolnshire coast. Only on land in November and December, other parts of the year they go out to sea, or shelter on sand banks in front of the English coast.
I am one of the people having read up about them, I know that they can bite, and that females are pregnant, and that the bulls are not territorial in this period.
Which makes the bulls for a short while less wild then the females. If you want to go and photograph them, you need to know that you go in slow and calm. Going low, and in little bits at the time. Basking seals will now and then pop an eye open to look at you, but as long as you go in slow and low, they will accept you.
It also helps to put on your best fish perfume... to make yourself attractive... (NOT)
So I am shooting seals, they can’t be too bothered, now and then one eye open to look at me, and since I am not moving anymore, they respect me as I respect them.
That is where the wardens come in.
Give a person a yellow jacket with a title and they become little dictators... They start considering the beach and the seals as their own, and they think it is their job to yell at people who genuinely want to photograph...
The seals are more bothered by his shouting then my presence. The seal warden has no clue about how near or far you have to be to take good sellable photographs of seals.
Stock libraries will not listen if you tell them that you could not get closer because the wardens think they have the right to tell you off.
Photographers in war situations and extreme wild life quests know that they run in danger, they don’t need a warden to tell them that.
Maybe they should put up some wardens in Iraq... to tell people to not put up car bombs and such...
I can’t help it, whenever I see yellow or signs Health and Safety I know that stupid things are going on, it’s England.
Imagine photographers for National Geographic kept away from volcano’s and wild life area’s by wardens. They could book up their magazine, as no pictures would be taken, as wardens would mingle in with loud voices.
Cornflake has more patience then I do with yellow warden material, she gets to talk to him, and peel his tongue. It seems that there is a stretch across the shore line, where the water breaks on the coast, and a big group stays there. We can go there and the yellow one assures her that there is no yellow in sight at that spot.
Great, now the yellow one is talking sense. Off we go, taking in account that it is low tide, and the water still retreating. We are in for a two mile walk to the sea edge.
A long walk over mud flats and wet parts of the beach.
As said, a blustery day, winds up to twenty miles, straight off shore. It means that we walk wind in back towards the water. We will have to come back wind in face.
But OK, anything for a good picture, so we march happily in a group to where the seals are.
Beautiful water patterns made by the wind.
Sea and land, a living environment. We go further and further away from the dunes. This is an RAF base, the Nature Reserve is managed with permission from the Ministry of Defense.
We do pass some weird constructions, that probably will have to do with practice and MOD stuff...
A line of wooden stalks with a plastic barrel on the horizontal bar. MOD related too.
Looking back, I can see that the Dunes have become really small, we are going long, really long...
I am starting to get tired. The others have marched on, with light pasing, my footsteps have a bit of a drag to them by now...
My long passed away grandmother would tell me to lift my foot off the ground when walking. Don’t drag your heals. Walk straight!!!
Sadly enough I am on my own now, and walking becomes really hard. I know that if I don’t turn back I might have serious problems getting back to the Dunes.
I try to tell myself about pups and 200 seals on the edge of the water, that normally should do to get me walking again, anything for a good picture. But it’s no use, I am exhausted. I need to turn around and try to reach the civilized world again.
The wind is beating me in the face, I walk straight in it to get back to where more people are. And good for the white topped constructions, they show me where to walk back.
We have gone so far out on the mud flats that the dunes have become way small, and the sun shines from behind them, hard to orientate oneself.
I focus on the square beach huts, and count down. 1400 steps to go. 1000 steps to go.
A flight of geese pass me high above, beautiful birds, elegant yellow heads, flying in tight formation. They have worked it out.
They follow a leading goose, and when this one gets tired, one of the back rows takes over and follow that one, while the leader sacks to second in place, resting while following.
I am on my own and am starting to wonder what I was thinking... Why on earth did I think I would make it on a two mile walk on wet mud flats, with wellies that slow me down too.
After a death marsh of an hour I reach the dunes again, the group is still gone, probably shooting wonderful pics of pups and moms. Darn it. I am utterly frustrated.
Sabotaged by my own body. I want to go back to times when I did not know I had one, a body... Where I could do anything I wanted, I walked on mountains and reached mountain huts with youth groups... I drove bicycles from one part of Belgium to the other. And now a two mile walk is out of the question...
I am bound to snap a meeting of snails, they gather in between the wooden poles. And are still, I can catch my breath.
Back to the seals close to the Dunes, no warden in sight, so I start a new conversation with the mom I met before my death marsh.
She tells me about her hopes and dreams for her pup. It will be born soon, will have a cream colored pelt, she will take it on trips around the coast... Maybe to the Farne Islands.
She will feed it and teach it how to swim close to her. Even seal moms have expectations...
I tell her that I have to get back to my car, waiting on Cornflake and the group to come back, and she nods. She tells me to come back in two weeks, she will show her pup to me then. Done deal... We wave at each other as I get up to go to the car park.
In the distance, I see Cornflake coming back. She has seen two or 3 pups already... I am so crossed at my self for not having pushed myself a bit further...
Next time, we will study the tide tables, and see when it is high tide, so the seals are much closer to the Dunes.
That will be my chance to snap some pups... And see my seal mom back...
We will come back in fourteen days. On a week day, with less people and no wardens...
Hoping for nice pictures...
Those figures of authority... Sigh!!
Looking forward to the pics of seal pup though. :)
Posted by: mollie | 26 October 2009 at 02:31 PM
Och daar smelt je toch helemaal voor weg...
Ongelooflijk dat ze deze dieren op zo'n gruwelijke wijze afslachten in sommige landen.
De foto's zijn weer prachtig, zoals altijd. De foto van de wilde ganzen is subliem!
Wat een prachtige dag met een énige belevenis voor in jouw levensboek alweer :)
Posted by: Ingrid | 26 October 2009 at 03:57 PM
Love the seal pics however your writing in this entry was beautiful. I felt the pain of trying to walk two miles and the wind in my face and I felt struggle and relief when the mom seal was once again in sight and rest was allowed when photographing...
Posted by: Sarah | 27 October 2009 at 02:52 PM