I don’t think I could willingly move to an inland city. The sea will always be part of the world in which I live.
And so here I am again, at Eastbourne this time, watching the Ovation of the Seas enter Wellington Harbour. Have you noticed the phenomenon that makes a very large object appear to move more slowly than a smaller one at the same speed? Stand near a runway and watch a B747 or an A380 on approach and they seem to hang in the air. A B737 or an A320 by comparison zips in to land vary quickly. It’s an illusion. Likewise with the Ovation of the seas. Perhaps my eyes are reluctant to believe that anything that big can move at all.
While I was waiting for her to move into a different spot, I was aware of some buzzing behind me. It’s peak pohutukawa season or just past it, and there were hundreds of feral honey bees. For the longest time, I thought they had been eradicated by colony collapse disorder. I hope it isn’t too soon to hope that they are making a comeback. I have seen them in ones and twos , but apart from close to farmed hives, this was the first time I have seen them in the hundreds for many years.
Of course, much of the time, there is nothing at all moving at the harbour entrance other than the relentless swells from the deep ocean beyond. When that happens, I seek solace in the harbour and the marinas This image is inside the breakwater near the iconic boatsheds below St Gerard’s Monastery in Oriental Bay. I mounted the camera on the bottom of my tripod’s central pillar and placed it within centimetres of the water’s surface for a very low angle. A neutral density filter stilled the water even further though I had to limit the exposure to avoid the boats moving during the shot.
Later in the week, another still day, this time at Seaview. The water was still and the sail must have been hoisted to air it, because it didn’t move at all. Low angles are harder here, because that rocky foreshore is very tough on my aging ankles and I am sure that passers-by snigger at my cautious clamber down the seawall to the “beach”, using the tripod as a prop to maintain my balance.
Elsewhere in the marina, at the Southern end where the work boats gathered, I liked the somewhat scruffy looking vessel nearest the camera. I am guessing it to be a work boat though it carries non of the registration numbers a fishing boat wold normally display. Nevertheless, it has character.
Recently I have resumed walking for health (long overdue, some say) so a favoured course is the Petone Esplanade. The return walk from the car park at the Western end to the Port Rd intersection is 7.2 km and I am encouraged by my nearest and dearest to leave the camera behind. Sometimes I carry it anyway, just because I want to. Walking past Petone Wharf which has been firmly closed since the earthquake of November 14, I saw the extent of the problem. It seems that the footings for two of the piles have been seriously undermined. That’s quite a kink.
* Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding