Rutland Water anglers

click photo to enlarge
Looking at the anglers' boats on Rutland Water the other day it occurred to me that the only other vessels I recall seeing that have identification numbers on their side are warships and the rowing boats on park lakes. Perhaps there are others that are marked in this way, but if so it hasn't registered with me. As I took my photographs I idly wondered whether the person from whom they are hired consulted his watch and, as with the boats on municipal park ponds, when the rental period was up, bellowed through a megaphone, "Come in number 29, your time is up." Probably not, he'd need to be a champion town cryer given the size of the area of water over which these anglers range.

It was a holiday weekend when I took this shot, and more fishermen than I'd seen on previous visits were chugging about, rods extended, lines in the water, searching for their prey. These two boats caught my eye because they seemed to be circling a spot like a couple of frigates about to depth-charge a submarine. However, when I studied my image I realised they were too far apart for such a co-ordinated approach, and anyway, by the curve on his rod, one angler seemed to have a "bite". To compose this little shot I waited until the bottom boat (which was moving) was positioned to the left of the frame, balancing the stationary boat on the right. I cropped the shot slightly to remove the distraction of the distant shore at the top of the image.

When I look through my collection of blog photographs I realise that I've featured anglers a few times - see here (very distantly), here (rather insanely) and here, also at Rutland Water (quite statuesquely). I've also photographed the boats in today's image (parked very neatly).

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 142mm (284mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/500 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Wayward sheep and recurring subjects

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If you keep sheep you have to work hard to make sure you keep them. The saying "just like sheep" refers to their habit of following, one behind the other, in a strung out line, as they move from one place to another. This behaviour can be turned against sheep by their owners. A farmer, wishing to move the animals from one field to another, merely has to get one of the lead sheep through the gate, and the others will fall over themselves in the rush follow. But it's an animal behaviour can also work against their owner too. An individual sheep, making the chance discovery of a way through a hedge, over a drystone wall, or through an inadvertently left-open gate, can precipitate a mass exodus as the rest of the flock follow the pathfinder's example.

Yesterday I came upon this fence extending a field boundary into the depths of Rutland Water reservoir. Like all such expanses of water, this one rises and falls with the rainfall and the demands of the population it serves. When the water is low the sheep can trot out on to the mud and move round the end of the field boundaries that run down to the reservoir's edge. Consequently fence extensions of this sort are necessary to keep them in the required place. The graphic shape that such a structure makes against the water has caught my eye before on the edge of Derwent Water in the Lake District. So why try for such an image again you might ask? Well, I think photographing the same subject in different locations and different ways, over time, is helpful in developing one's photography. If a subject is good, it's a satisfying challenge to work on different interpretations. I was going to present this shot in colour as I did with the previous fence (look carefully, it is!), but black and white made more of the silhouette, shadows and reflection so that's how it ended up.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 22mm (44mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/400 seconds
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Access and freedom

click photo to enlarge

As a teenage birdwatcher I used to travel to a reservoir deep in the hills to view ducks and other waterbirds. However, in the late 1960s and early 1970s the reservoirs of England were pretty much no go areas, and I had to view from a public road or a footpath. Signs around the fenced off reservoir said "Keep Out!" backed by threats of heavy fines. Other notices reminded me that it was my drinking water and needed to be kept pure! What did they think I had in mind? The surrounding forest was also out of bounds to the public (the danger of fire seemed to be the justification) despite, like the reservoir, being publicly owned.

Today reservoir managers positively encourage visitors, and provide facilities for their enjoyment. I used part of the cycle track around Rutland Water (above), and very pleasant it was too. Forests now have waymarked paths and mountain bike trails. In both kinds of locations wildlife (and wildlife watching) is positively encouraged, with hides and visitor centres This is a far cry from the restrictive days of forty years ago and a very welcome improvement.

However, a recent development in towns and cities runs contrary to this liberalising trend. So-called "malls without walls" - large shopping centres built by private companies - are being erected that include privately owned streets. These are thoroughfares that are privately policed, and that can exclude "undesirables". Liverpool One, a development of 42.5 acres with 35 streets in the middle of Liverpool is the latest such scheme. It follows others in places like London, Sheffield and Hove. I think such projects need to be carefully monitored. Any limitation of our right to move freely through our cities by private companies curtails our freedom. Will photographers, for example, face the restrictions in these streets that are commonly placed on them in covered shopping malls. For further information see this article in The Guardian newspaper.

My photograph was taken at the edge of Rutland Water where anglers' boats for hire are moored. When I looked at the boats on a different photograph I took I noticed the highest numbered vessel was 61. Poor fish, I thought, if they were all to to set sail at once!

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 11mm (22mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/500
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.7 EV
Image Stabilisation: Off

An undignified end

click photo to enlarge

Mankind, it seems, has an innate desire to hang on to parts of the past. This is, by and large, a good trait, because knowing where we've come from (the past), helps us to understand our (present) context, and can inform our course of action for tomorrow (the future). But, sometimes, we've just got to let go or we become like Dickens' Miss Haversham in "Great Expectations", forever looking back, trying to hold on to a past that has gone, and making fools of ourselves.

When, in the 1970s, the 3,500 acre reservoir that is now Rutland Water was created, several farms, many cottages, and Normanton Park was inundated. But, a decision was taken to "save" St Matthew, the Park's church. The nave and chancel date from 1764. The west end (including the tower) are by Cockerell, and replaced a medieval tower when they were added in 1826-9. Further alterations took place in 1911. As churches go it is not without interest, but it isn't of more than local architectural importance. However, Cockerell's work is held in high regard, and that was probably the decisive factor that led to its being preserved. But what a preservation. An artificial spit of stone and concrete was arranged around the ground floor of the church leaving only the upper floor, tower and roof showing.

Today St Matthew is the Rutland Water Museum, with stairs down to the floor below water level. It looks, frankly, ridiculous - the top half of a church poking up out of the rubble and water. Virtually any other course of action would have treated the building with more dignity than the one chosen . If funds were not available to disassemble it and reassemble it elsewhere, then the significant architectural parts could have been removed and erected on the shore, leaving the rest to its watery grave. When I came to compose a photograph of this sad building I noticed a fly-fisherman by the water's edge, and thought he'd make some good foreground interest and give it a bit of context.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 42mm (84mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On