High Tide and White Foam

Field recording journal 4th October 2022 - 7.30PM Shoreham Port

After fiddling around with my gear I arrive later than I’d hoped. It’s dark and I switch my head torch on so I can see what I’m doing. I start by wandering down the alley between concrete blocks and fencing to the hidden path near the resonant sea defence boulders. It’s windy and dark and I’m spooked by the sound of movement. Pebbles thrown on to the beach by fierce waves or footsteps? I swivel my head left and right searching out the source of the sound, but the beam of my weak head torch is inadequate and my pace quickens as I head back to where the car is parked.

It’s probably too windy to record but I’m set up and keen to do more testing with my new microphone. The wind is coming straight off the sea, a ferocious roaring power buffeting me and microphone. The sound of it dominates tonight, no choice but to record it. It drowns everything.

I move on to the beach overlooking the hot pipe, wary of getting too close to the big foamy waves I keep my distance. I can feel the spray on my face and hear it pattering on my jacket.

A small group of photographers take photos of the hot pipe jetty (so called because it houses the outlet for warm water used by the power station). 4 or 5 five with tripods venture down to the beach. I feel a kind of kinship with these night time explorers. I wave at them when they leave, and one waves back.

I sit on a wooden groyne watching the blinking red lights of the distant wind turbines. Is there a pattern? There seems to be. I imagine the sequence as sound. The Hot Pipe jetty is covered by the sea, but its 6 tall red warning poles are visible. They look almost alien, hovering above the surface.

The cold wind is starting to get through my jacket now and my nose is running.

The spray of the sea glows orange under the street lamps and behind me the stark white light of the steel depot blasts the night in to day.

A runner accompanied by a cyclist pass on basin road. It’s too wild for strolling down here tonight. As I pack my gear in to the car, a cyclist in high viz jacket passes and enters the steel depot to start their night shift.