The Ghosts of Spurn Point

Source of picture; http://www.eriding.net/media/photos/geography/spurn_head/050905_cbrown_mp_geo_with1.jpg

Ghosts Of Spurn Point

As a child, my parents took me to a place called Spurn Point. An isolated part of the Yorkshire coast, built with sand banks and shingle banks, overlooking the ocean. The Victorians built their sea defences on the banks, which are maintained by the Ministry Of Defence, which are now abandoned. From the mainland, it is a 3 mile drive to get to the point, then the road ends. You can walk around the whole point on the beach, where the old war bunkers decay, and traces of its history barley remain.



 

The place is a congealment of beauty and loneliness. This week, I returned to capture the tension and vibes of Spurn Point. It’s hard to explain the emotions you pick up from there, even through photography. There’s a physical magic that can only be experience when you walk onto the beach. It’s a strange sensation when you walk around the point, passing the abandoned war bunks. A spirit of the past latches on to you, the living, begging for interaction, for it to be remembered. The lighthouse, a ghost within its own rights, seems to wait, overlooking the sea, ready to warn the dangers of the rocks below. You pick up a tragic sense of loss, as the only interaction it gets is one way. The boats receive the signal of danger, and then sail away, not replying to the lighthouse. It now has been out of use since 1986.

The pictures I took all have a story which I feel like I need to tell you.

The Ghosts of Spurn Point

#1. Clouds and Towers. When I approached the main part of the point, the first thing I saw was the old radio tower. The picture is in sepia, because I mistakenly pressed the wrong setting on my camera, but I feel that it mimics the physical feeling that the place emits when you are present. The clouds are parted above the tower allowing the light to brighten the grounds. The strong winds agitate the vast spaces of grass, like the waves of the ocean. In the background, the old keeper’s cottages can be seen, but no sign of life is detected.

#2. Still Vibrations. As I approached the shore, I saw wooden beams stuck into the sand. The beams have no use now, so they stand alone, neglected, and battered by the cold North Sea when the tide comes in. These ghosts appear to be waiting for interaction, like many of the objects on the point. When I look at them for a while, I can imagine a row of people standing on the beach, awaiting a boat. The rough texture of the sea contrasts with the smoothness of the sand, creating tenseness between the two subjects.

#3. Abandoned to the sea. Once a storage for explosives, this metal structure is now empty, constantly whipped by the sea. Rust all over the structure indicates disregard from human communication. As it is not in use anymore, there is no need for repair. This ghost will remain in limbo until the sea erodes its foundations.

#4. Water’s edge. The light house that stands alone is the most haunting ghost of Spurn Point. Its only interaction was one way, warning boats of mortal danger. It never received communication back. Now, out of use, its light remains off. The vibes that I got from this ghost was a tragic sadness. Loneliness and decay has taken its toll on the paint, and the strong north winds have damaged its windows. It seems to stand there, alone, waiting for boats to warn away from the Point.

#5. Protruding sea. As I walked further away from the lighthouse, it seemed to call me back. I turned around to see the sea draw closer to it. The empty sky shows the isolation on the Point. The beach seems welcoming of the sea, yet the lighthouse seems scared, frozen still in fear.

#6. Empty shells. A small trail on the beach is made up of the sea’s rejects. Empty shells that once contained life. As I walked over them, the crunching sound echoed across the beach. The trail takes me past an over grown war bunker. Foliage has taken root, breaking away at the bricks. It crumbles as life grows. Its the only life on the Point, yet it is destructive and dull. It eats away at the history, and the tide salvages what is left.

#7. Empty shells – bunker. sea shells are not the only empty shells on the Point. One of a few on the Point, the bunker stands alone, still serving the Point as defence, yet neglected by its very creators. The lighthouse watches the bunker in silence when the tide drowned it, helpless. The bunker watches back, in awe as it is submerged by the sea.

#8. Ladders in the sea. Accapella, the sea beats in one drone. The ladders represent loneliness to me as they appear to go nowhere. Surrounded by the sea, it would be off putting to climb, leaving the ladders abandoned. It also represents escapism, for the ghosts of Spurn Point, yet they cannot use it. Perhaps, in this limbo, this is a form of twisted torment for the ghosts.

#9. Rotten texture. On the point, there is alot of texture, which contributes to the story of neglect, isolation and abandonment. In this photo, I captures the rust on the wood. Damaged from exposure to the elements, it looks like the wood is crying over its wrinkled face. Is it crying from loneliness?

#10. Rope. This bundle of rope is the most colourful ghost on the Point. Its tied against the rotting wood, yet remains bright and vibrant. Is this a beacon of hope that colour can remain in such desolated and dystopic place? The pebbles in the back ground and foreground eliminate the smoothness of the beach, creating an unsure atmosphere. They were placed randomly by the tide that battered the wood.

#11. Replacement. As the weather lightens, more of the Point can be seen more clearly, yet it seems the magic of it is fading. More wear and tear is visible to the human eye. Rotting wood and sea defences consumed by nature become more irrelevant. Bricks that cry crimson rust have no more significance to me. The electricity has dissolved when the clouds broke away. My time on this Point is over. For today. The ghosts have gone back into hiding, away from prying eyes. Is the light a saviour from the loneliness, and the darkness a vessel of fear? The darkness brings out the ghosts in this Point. It brings it out in all of us.

The forgotten footsteps of the dead

 We forget the dead. Our footprints pass without care, without love, and the footprints are destined to be eaten by the sea, leaving no trace of our trail. History eats away into the lonely bodies and brittle bones.

These two photographs are different to the others. They are not ghosts, but carcasses. Empty shells of the living. The first is of a dead crab. This is not my focus. The foot prints behind are more interesting. They show ignorance of the humans the walk past. The fail to acknowledge the presence of the crab. They just walk by as if the past doesn’t matter. It died in vain, ignored by man.

 The second is the bones that are been hidden by the sand. The wind blows the grains over the bones, erasing the evidence that history once lived. Decay is also hiding history. When rigor mortis is complete, and the sands have consumed the bones, no one else will know what once was. With this photograph, I have immortalized it. You know about the dead seagull of Spurn Point.

 

Analysis of the Ghosts of Spurn Point

To go back to where it all began, to understand the poetry of Spurn Point would be beneficial to this experiment. There is a lot to learn from this place. Its beauty and its betrayal. To understand the ‘sad magic’ of its history and abandonment would help me represent a place of Isoloneliness. The photographs I took, represents Isoloneliness, but on a personal scale. I wanted to create a documented case of isolation that the viewer could relate to. Fair enough, the images could be identified to my intentions by a viewer, but the isolation is on more of a personal journey. At the moment, I can’t think of a way to allow this experiment to become more accessible to the viewer. All I know is, that the viewer needs to go to Spurn Point to understand the loneliness for themselves, to feel its textures, to see its loneliness and to hear its voice.

I am pleased with the images, if I was to take them as aesthetical, but this isn’t what this year is about. As it is my first experiment of Isoloneliness, I expected to make mistakes such as depth and story within the photographs. I aimed to capture texture, but only caught a glimpse. Looking back at the lighthouse pictures, I could have gone closer and photographed the peeling paint, which would have represented the neglected aspect of Spurn Point. However, I felt pressurised by the fear of becoming clique, creating a set of photographs that would look amateurish and predictable. One part of the experiment that I thought was clique was the photographs that were taken in sepia. Baring in mind, this was purely accidental (a conflict between finger and camera), it looks like I have done this for effect. I think that using sepia to create a ‘haunting’ effect is over used and expected by a viewer. I think if I used a more gritty approach, for example, using an original SLR, with a grainy film roll. This is something I could consider when I return to Spurn Point.