The major port in my bit of Sussex used to be Pevensey. Here the Roman fort was almost on an Island – a clay promontory surrounded by sea that has silted to produce a protected fragile marshland wildlife area surrounding the remains of the Roman and Norman castles. In days of yore the Roman fleet hid here to surge out and intercept pirates raiding the South Coast until the Empire collapsed. Then the locals, referred to as ‘Wealas’ (Welsh in current English, possibly my ancestors) were dispossessed and fled from the Anglo-Saxons who were in turn subjugated by the Normans (ancestors of ‘she who must be obeyed’). Now Pevensey is a scruffy small seaside village, and its closest port is Newhaven. Both are currently the subject of my camera as I resume my search for colour having tired of the rusting BRotS. Neither take any part in protecting us from invaders now – but then no-one does any more.
Newhaven featured in the last major defence of Britain when it was host to invasion forces in WW2 – famous as the base for the Dieppe raid and now home to the ferry service – part funded by local government in France – from Newhaven into Dieppe peaceably, and popular as the calmer cruise than the mass transit in Dover, four trips a day at weekends over the summer. Newhaven harbour also houses a small fishing fleet as well as the ferry and some freight services but has been allowed to decay by Westminster as so much of the whole country has, from North to South as our second-rate political establishment masterminds the final decay of our once-great nation.
Photo from Newhaven Museum Once-upon-a-time tug and 3 British Rail ferries at the quayside in Newhaven
As I have shown in my previous work, there is beauty in decay, and with my camera I am searching it out again a little further from home than hitherto but still focussed on the coastline. Newhaven is closer and is getting a second look, having taken my photographic eye as a part of my collection of Harbour images, which it was included in alongside Cape Town and Bergen for example. Then it was a curious look entranced by the different colour the fishing fleets and seaside homes produce to the natural colour of decay that characterised my BRotS. This second time around perhaps a sharper eye or maybe a more focused mind -maybe man with a mission perhaps rather than just a sketch book wanderer the camera being my sketch book.
Much of the colour is generated by the fishing tackle of course, and the patterns evident come from the systemic organisation of their tools by the fishermen, driven not necessarily by aesthetics but by the functionality needed on a working boat or a cluttered quayside. Much art of course is also driven by functionality, by the processes themselves whether pottery, weaving or painting, all have their own disciplines driven by the materials and techniques. Here the colour of the fisherman’s tackle is also placed in relation to other materials by the function of the process – except of course where materials are lost overboard and reappear to become grist for someone else’s mill.
Once upon a time Newhaven sent ferries to Jersey and Honfleur, but the demand then was foot passengers arriving by train in the Harbour station. Now the station has gone and the ferries are huge by comparison as they take the car as well as the passengers – probably not many more people overall but articulated lorries, cars, camper vans and coaches all demand larger ship so instead of three British Rail ferries the space is now fill by one at a time the ‘Seven Sisters’ or ‘Cote d’Alabastre’ (which translates as White Cliffs) so both can be seen from Newhaven. Of course our farsighted planners have not updated the road system to cope with the increased size of truck, coaches etc, but then the M23 to Brighton, started in 1972, is still not completed, its northern end, a roundabout in Wandsworth with motorway standard roads beneath it testifying to the lack of will and whimsical government that characterises the English skill of prevarication. Meanwhile the coastal M27 Dover to Portsmouth motorway continues to exist only in pieces and planners’ imaginations
So Newhaven slumbers on, the most exciting development being where industries have left because of the failure to move with the time by the authorities, and where the latest investment has gone into the refurbishing of the giant Palmerston fort guarding its entrance. The lack of the motorway has resulted in piecemeal planning leaving the town centre ringed by a busy road, killing the high street but the port along the river, slowly being rejuvenated under French ownership, continues to develop and in its own quiet way, thrive. The ferries, wind farm service vessels and the dredger slip in and out whilst the local fish quay brings the colour and vitality to the northern quaysides, and it is this colour and vitality that attracts me with my camera.
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