The Silent Sea

Usually the sea below my house is audible in my garden. It can be relatively gentle lapping or the thunder of heavy waves in a swell or driven by gale force winds.

On other, rare, occasions the sea feels as though there is a steely, unreal quietness in it. It's a rare occurrence and the results are shown in the pictures below:

When I see the sea like that I am always reminded of a paining by Finnish artist Akseli Gallen-Kallela that I saw and liked in the National Gallery in London. It is called Lake Keitele: A Vision of Finland. 

What I do not know is what phenomenon or combination of circumstances causes it. 

Remembrance

Yesterday I was fortunate and privileged to be invited to go along when the Stornoway Rowing Club  went out from the Inner Harbour to the Beasts of Holm (the rocks on which HMY Iolaire foundered). I was not rowing of course but got a ride on the safety rib. Some yachts accompanied the skiffs as well. We were fortunate in that the Minch was calm with little more than a breeze but it was cold with a temperature not much above freezing.

When the skiffs arrived at the site of the disaster 201 paper boats were floated, the crews sang a hymn and saluted those who lost their lives. It was both poignant and moving.

Gathering on the marina pontoons

The 'Lewis Diver' rib I was fortunate to go out on.

Rowing across the harbour

Rowing around the Beasts of Holm

Floating the paper boats and singing a hymn

SY233 'Jubilee' the last original ‘sgoth Niseach’. Ideally suited to fishing in Scottish coastal waters, the clinker-built, lug-rigged ‘sgoth Niseach’ took their skippers and crews into the unpredictable waters of the North Atlantic

The Iolaire lies between the marker on the rocks and the shore.

The Salute

Behold The Sea

I love the sea. That's no secret. I live by the sea. Rarely does a day go by when I don't sit and watch it. The moods of the sea are as many and as varied as the moods of the sky. I love the sky too. In Eagleton, in particular, I live with BIG skies; 360 degree skies.

Some years ago when I was in The National Gallery in London I saw a painting by Akseli Gallen-Kallela entitled Lake Keitele and I was mesmerised by the patterns in the water.

Lake Keitele by Alseli Gallen-Kallela

I see similar patterns quite frequently in The Minch from my Study window:

The Butt of Lewis

On Thursday Anna and I went up to the Butt of Lewis: the most northerly point of the Island and, at one time (perhaps still) familiar to listeners of the Shipping Forecast.  We stopped, as I invariably do, at the Morven Gallery on the way back for coffee and to see what was new.  I assumed that at some time in the past I would have blogged about the lighthouse at the Butt but I can't find one so I shall re-visit that topic some time.

The weather at the Butt was excellent with only a light wind and a very warm sun - the temperature actually reached 12℃ 54℉ according to the car's dashboard reading.  However the sea was boiling!

The Temperature Rose Today

It got into double figures.  I recorded a maximum of 11.2 deg – fleetingly.  It felt a lot colder in the wind.  And this is the middle of May.  There are less than 7 weeks before the nights start drawing in again and midsummer will be passed!  The mainland of Scotland with snow on some of the mountains stood out for part of the day which was crisp and clear.

Behold, The Sea

Today has been an amazing day. Norman next door reckons the sea in the Bay has been as rough the last few days as he's ever seen it. I have certainly never seen anything like it. But then I've only lived in this house overlooking Bayble Bay for 15 years. Today the wind officially reached 79 mph. I cannot imagine living away from the sea because the sea can express so well the emotions of the weather and how we react to it. The fury, the beauty, the calm: whatever the emotion the sea says it all:

Storm Force

I have just been on the phone and during that time I was watching the sea in Bayble Bay below the house. I will never cease to be amazed at how the sea can change within minutes. During the call the sea went from long long rollers reaching into the Bay; to huge breakers breaking on the shore; to waves breaking (yes, really!) in the middle of the Bay; to sea flattened by the storm force winds so that not a wave broke even on the shore and every little wavelet as far as the eye could see had a white crestlet - the sea actually boiled. BBC Scotland's Heather 'The Weather' has just said that the winds in Stornoway in the last hour reached 75mph. Enough said.

Unfortunately the combination of the poor light and the flatness of the view made photography well nigh impossible. However I did get a photo of the cliffs on the other side of the Bay as the waves and spray climbed up them.

Apparently all but three of Calmac's ferries have been cancelled today and, OK, so none of us like this weather when we have to go out but watching the sea is magical. Who would want to be anywhere else.

An Angry Sea

This afternoon I went into Stornoway. For once I was dressed for the weather (gales and rain) so I decided to stop on the Briaghe and photograph the waves coming in from the South. Impressive or what!

A Calm Sea

Looking out at the Mainland yesterday the sea was so calm it was difficult to believe. I felt that it would be possible to walk to over the Minch. It would certainly have been calm enough to canoe over. That is to say if one was fit enough.

I saw a picture in the National Gallery a few years ago entitled 'Lake Keitele' by Akseli Gallen-Kallela who is (or, as he's dead, is it 'was') a leading figure in modern Finnish painting. He first worked at Lake Keitele, north of Helsinki, in summer 1904. The scene is so reminiscent of the painting it's almost uncanny. I have to say that my photo's do not do the scene justice.