On the pier at Worthing, July 30, 2004.
Journal Notes
a mammoth yellow and red Royal National Lifeboat Service helicopter hovers over the end of the pier
rotors thumb the air, it banks sharply, sweeps up the beach, does a U-turn and begins a slow progression back to the pavilion
strong wind and waves cutting in from SE
lifeboats zig-zag under pier
and we all watch, holiday makers
a brief reminder of the power of the sea behind the wall of amusements
helicopter sweeps slowly in passes parallel to the shore, spot lights down as the sun sets, an orange ball
helicopter hovers again, just above the pavilion, edging closer, rotors thumping, waves of air pushing against the crowd
it creeps closer, no one moves
sweeps out again
there is a life ring floating, not moving on the surface, bobbing on the waves
ice cream cones and Flakies
and we watch
“It happens all the time,” he says, and his partner nods in agreement
walk back east along the “parade”, the helicopter continues to sweep
the lifeboats, Avon dinghies with high-powered outboards, slalom beneath the pier
next day, not a word, false alarm or common occurrence?
people are in the water today
the sun is bright, gulls laugh, the sea shades from blue to green, a stiff breeze, rolling waves, a few breaking, some white-caps, pennants flutter
more ice cream and Flakies
a cardboard sign: “Chairs for hire £1”
striped fabric, blue, green and red
“Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.” – from Moby Dick
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