I caught the Ark Royal’s visit to the Tyne in 2008. I was having a pleasant walk along the prom at Shields, with the lady wife, when I saw the carrier approaching the mouth of the Tyne. Walk suspended, back to the car and rocket along to the Groin in the river entrance to await the arrival. A lot of standing about later, and increasing grumbling from the parked car nearby, and I was rewarded with some nice, head-on shots of this beautiful ship. The light was fading so conditions were not ideal but I did submit one shot to a DPS competition and the discerning judge, John Brown, selected it for one of the awards. How chuffed was I, a brand new starter at the club at that time.
I promised myself to do better next time and that moment was forced on me a couple of weeks ago when the government, in its dotage, decided to mothball the ship and it returned to the Tyne for a farewell visit. Determined to get the most out of my pensioner’s bus pass I caught the bus to Shields, then ferried across the river and worked my way along to the Northumbria Quay, where the ship was tied up. Nice to see it fairly close up, but the eight feet high barrier fence pretty much knocked on the head any chance of worthwhile photographs (for trivia anoraks, the gap between the metal uprights is 75mm, which allowed me to poke my 8-200 lens through but not to manoeuvre it). The weather did not help as there was a bitter, rain-laden, north wind. By the time I returned to the ferry the sky was getting very dark and there were frequent downpours, not necessarily a bad sign as I have a leaning towards moody landscapes and conditions were certainly atmospheric. The Ark Royal was due to cast off at 3pm so I was firmly planted near the Customs House, opposite the mooring, in good time. As the hour approached, so did the heavy clouds, and by 3pm freezing rain was driving directly into faces of intrepid well-wishers and cascading from the camera lenses. It was so dark that my auto-focus got the sulks and I had to resort to doing the job manually. Being stern-on to the sea, the ship was towed upstream, rotated and brought back down, a process which probably took about 20 minutes but seemed to last several hours. I was frozen and wet through, despite my elderly gortex waterproofs. My sympathy went to the sailors on the ship, who were lined up along the rails and leading edge of the flight deck for this entire period. My last shot was of the carrier vanishing into the darkness of the building storm, like an image of some surface raider during World War II, a great, powerful shadow sliding silently out into the ocean. Then I wrung my camera out and sloshed back to the bus stop for a long ride home, nursing my incipient pleurisy. Between racking coughs, I had an opportunity to review the day. On the whole I was pleased I had made the trip. I felt some kinship with the crew, even if all we shared was a storm, I had a great feeling of sadness and affection for the ship and felt privileged to have been able to wave her on her last journey. Sometimes a song title sums it all up, and Sonny Boy Williamson and I are in full agreement that on this occasion; the skies were most definitely crying.
Dennis Hardingham
All Photos Dennis Hardingham.
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