Following on from yesterday’s post . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . For the origins and full set of images in this series, here
“There’s not much sail in that collection” – Ed.
No, there’s not. There’s something else I’m . . .
“A revival of working boats, locally-built, local materials, ‘close-to-the-sea’, preferably under sail? – Sounds pretty specialist, limitist, elitist to me.” – Ed.
No, listen, I’ve been trying to . . .
“And some of those boats look pretty badly kept. If their owners don’t look after them, why should we care?” – Ed
Listen, will you? Just listen!
I have been recording the boats for lots of reasons – (not the least being that I enjoy doing it).
For me, they reflect two things – the people who built them and the places where they were built.
When I was young, there was a song we used to sing along to. It had a verse:
“And they were all built out of ticky-tacky and they were all built just the same.”
Well, there’s plenty of ticky-tacky still around, and not only are things being built the same we are now being ‘encouraged’ to think the same.
It’s not so much about tradition, or being tied to certain materials, or blessed with certain skills (although that all comes into it).
It’s about people who set out to build boats that achieve beauty through a combination of their function, their structure and the knowledge, attitudes and skills that went into their construction.
No, they are not necessarily classical, nor tidy, nor showy, they merely reflect the lives of those immediately around them – about as far from ticky-tackiness and sameness as you can get.
That’s my take on it, anyway.
“Oh, really. What’s for tea?” – Ed.