February 2017 - I joined the crew of the Dutch Clipper Brig Morgenster in Tenerife for a voyage to Den Helder, Holland.
It was an interesting challenge being a photographer and part of a ships watch at the same time. We headed North West towards the Azores looking for the West wind, the traditional route for a sailing ship, the further south you go from Europe the more offshore you need to sail in order to find a favourable wind for the return home.
On voyages I am classed as a deckhand and asked to do a number of things; steer, haul on ropes or climb the mast and furl the sails; perhaps act as a lookout, or take a turn in the galley. Fulfilling these obligations and taking photos can be difficult as I need to stand back from the action in order to properly observe. And I don't get to decide what a voyage will bring me in advance. Were I to remain as a neutral observer, I would miss so much of what defines life at sea. Some of the tasks are perilous and exhilarating, and some offer an education in skills that are useful, though all but forgotten by the modern world.
For this reason I have decided to offer my commentary in the form of a reflection on my fascination with maritime culture in general. I see this as a separate line of navigation from the work I have produced, photographing Tall Ships under sail, but I hope somehow the two will intersect at the moment my finger hits the button.
For my part, as I gaze across the ocean I realise how vulnerable I am in this situation. Subconsciously, this is one of the reasons I want to be there; it enables me to appreciate every moment all the more. When you are in danger you notice how precious life is and how welcome any intrusion from your fellow passengers can be. And since we work together, in close quarters all the time, the chances to see each other's points of view are many. One night, while on watch, I mentioned that I'd had irrational fears of waking up in the morning and finding myself alone on the ship mid Atlantic. One of the professional crew replied that he often dreamt he was sailing a ship through a busy cityscape and feared he would collide with someone or something. A dream experienced by many other sailors. We felt this was quite telling about our different natures and positions. Whilst I, as a photographer and amateur sailor, feared complete exposure, he perhaps would suffer from a claustrophobia which life on shore had come to represent.
Regardless of our different backgrounds, the voyage gave us the opportunity to exchange these interesting and surreal phantasies. It's as if, out of the isolation, exposure and urgency of the environment, a powerful imagination is born among the crew. We rejoice when we catch glimpses of other ships or see birds and dolphins. The sailors of yore worshipped their figureheads, myths and fables abound. Quite different from todays fast and sometimes uncaring urban life. This is why the sea continues to captivate, intrigue, and teach me new things.
PRINTS
These images are original real life digital capture by Richard Sibley and available as fine art prints through the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich. To order a print visit the following link https://tinyurl.com/ycfx3oan
ABOUT THE SHIP
She was originally launched in 1919 as the Herring Lugger ‘Vrouwe Maria’. In 1959 her name was changed to Morgenster (‘Morning Star’ in English )
The current owners, Harry & Marian Muter, acquired Morgenster in 1993 for the purpose of converting her into a Clipper Brig for Sail Training voyages. Relaunched in 2008 she joined the Tall Ship races.
SPECIFICATIONS
Home Port, Den Helder, Holland
Length overall: 48m
Beam: 6.7m
Draught: 2.4m
Sail area: 600sqm