Into photography I began to experiment with time exposures (instead of a brief click from the shutter it may, in low light conditions, take 20 minutes exposure). Pulpit Rock, at Portland Bill had, under certain conditions, looked like a Neolithic man rising from the sea. It needed be no moon, cloudy and with a steady sea swell. This night was pretty good. Around midnight I mounted the tripod and camera on the rocks and timed a 20 minute exposure. Idling my time, I wandered around, watched the lighthouse in action and listened to waves pushing against the rocks below. I moved down a ledge or two and was now under the cliff and restarted the camera. It was much darker down there and a little spooky but having experienced several ghostie experiences was not alarmed. I gazed across the rocks and tried to imagine what the image might look like, could do with a bit more whiteness from the rocks as the waves break over them. Something appeared to move amongst the rocks. Trick of the light. No. The lighthouse beams are way too high. There it is again. A black shape slowing picking its way over the boulders. The hairs on the back of my neck are bristling sending a shiver down my spine. Whoa there. I'm very rarely spooked these days, I reminded myself. The third exposure I'd planned was lower again, below the ledge I was on, closer to the sea and darker. The camera is set and almost straight away the movement amongst the rocks gets closer. Its having difficulty on the larger rocks so is taking a devious path to get closer. It goes up over and out of sight.Now I'm seriously edgy, last image and I'm away, another 10 minutes. Super tingles, the ledge behind is about a metre above my head I'm drawn round to look. Above me is a dark shape leant over moving almost like a dog wagging its tail. I'm up in full “run away†mode over the rocks and home. Couldn't believe that I was so spooked. A few days later my neighbour, a real old timer of a Portlander was chatting to me about the meaning of life and the origins of the universe, like you do and I mentioned the experience. He said night time fishermen had seen the same thing around the Bill point. He tells me the story of how dogs were trained to swim out to shipwrecked boats with a rope so that the crew could be rescued. It is an historical fact as there were many shipwrecks along Portland's shores. Apparently a Labrador, “Black Bob†was drowned in high seas during such a rescue mission, it was posthumously given some kind of bravery award and perhaps had come to greet me. Sorry Bob if I ran away from you, I didn't understand.
I made my way to the end of the road to where it joined the Curaray river somewhere in central Ecuador with the idea of getting someone to take me into the jungle for a week or so. By chance there was an American girl, 2 Austrian girls and a Swiss bloke all wanting to do the same. We ganged up found some locals and went up river into the Amazon bit. Progress became slower and slower as the water level dropped and all of the fallen tree trunks protruded above the water. We had to unload the canoe and lift it over the tree reload and do it again and again. There was some rain and river rose enough to go full throttle over the tree and sort of ski jump back into the water. Much quicker progress with a penalty. About 5 days out the base of the canoe came away from the sides and water seeped in quicker than we could bale it out. We were nearing the Jivaros Indian settlement we were headed and decided to patch it up with sacking and build another to get back – the canoes were dug outs. The river level can rise at least 10 metres after a period of rain. This was confirmed later that day when we rounded a bend and there 10 metres up was a canoe wedged in the branches of a tree. It seems that it broken it's moorings some way up river as our guides recognised the different design. It was quite a task to retrieve this vessel – which was much bigger than ours - down from the tree and clear it from all the beasties which had made it home. The jungle was fantastic, more impressive were the huge number of insects, all of which were hungry. I took 11 rolls of film. Getting back to Quito with the help of two Germans I was waiting in “casualty†in what turned out to be an ear, nose and throat centre. I was helped to another hospital where I had injections in the sole of my feet (remember those cartoon syringes with the 2 chrome rings for the fingers and a big plunger – well it was one of them). I'd contracted some kind of infection from the river water and the poison needed draining. I did yelp quite vigorously as the needle entered the swollen flesh underneath the arch of my foot !
I made my way to the end of the road to where it joined the Curaray river somewhere in central Ecuador with the idea of getting someone to take me into the jungle for a week or so. By chance there was an American girl, 2 Austrian girls and a Swiss bloke all wanting to do the same. We ganged up found some locals and went up river into the Amazon bit. Progress became slower and slower as the water level dropped and all of the fallen tree trunks protruded above the water. We had to unload the canoe and lift it over the tree reload and do it again and again. There was some rain and river rose enough to go full throttle over the tree and sort of ski jump back into the water. Much quicker progress with a penalty. About 5 days out the base of the canoe came away from the sides and water seeped in quicker than we could bale it out. We were nearing the Jivaros Indian settlement we were headed and decided to patch it up with sacking and build another to get back – the canoes were dug outs. The river level can rise at least 10 metres after a period of rain. This was confirmed later that day when we rounded a bend and there 10 metres up was a canoe wedged in the branches of a tree. It seems that it broken it's moorings some way up river as our guides recognised the different design. It was quite a task to retrieve this vessel – which was much bigger than ours - down from the tree and clear it from all the beasties which had made it home. The jungle was fantastic, more impressive were the huge number of insects, all of which were hungry. I took 11 rolls of film. Getting back to Quito with the help of two Germans I was waiting in “casualty†in what turned out to be an ear, nose and throat centre. I was helped to another hospital where I had injections in the sole of my feet (remember those cartoon syringes with the 2 chrome rings for the fingers and a big plunger – well it was one of them). I'd contracted some kind of infection from the river water and the poison needed draining. I did yelp quite vigorously as the needle entered the swollen flesh underneath the arch of my foot !