Click on first pic to enter slideshow mode.
This great article from the New Yorker Magazine in 1951 by Rachel Carson contains some extended discussion of tides, as well as the opening sections on waves.
Click in the box below to jump to the full article.
See another post about Rachel Carson and tides here
“SILENCE OF THE TIDES is a cinematic portrait that is driven by the continuous ‘breathing’ of the Wadden, an area anchored amongst continuous tensions against a backdrop of light, mist, wind, water and land.
The film observes the inhaling and exhaling of the tides along with the repeating cycles and contrasts of nature, light, sound and mankind.
The film evokes the question of whether the Wadden Islands are a part of water or part of the land, but above all it gives shape and scope to the unique living existence of the Wadden Sea and its inhabitants.”
More info here
This was written circa 1989, and shared with us by our friend and poet Clare Sawtell
More about Clare and her poems can be seen here.
We thank Clare for permission to reproduce the poem here,We think it is lovely.
Here is a Flickr album of some pictures. Many thanks to Fran Ward and Thornbury Sailing Club – and Simon. It was great to be out on the tide rather than viewing from the shore as usual. The inflatable kayak seemed fine! And there was someone with a homemade double canvas canoe. We tried that too. And we swam in Oldbury Pill. Click on the picture to go to the slide show.
Tide & Time at the National Oceanography Centre showcases some of the fascinating achievements made in the Liverpool area in understanding and predicting the tides.
See the website here
(Posted by the artist Luci Gorell Barnes)
I choose a high tide just before sunset and as we turn the corner it seems that the river is already huge and full. At the bank I see that there are a few feet left to go and we tether the houses and set them out onto the water. The tide slaps them in against the banks and I push them back out into the current with a stick pulled from the hedge, lamenting the lovely long bamboo pole I left propped against the wall at home.
I film the houses as they bob, bump and separate. I step into a channel about 18 inches wide to get a better shot and drop straight down into water up to my waist. It’s growing dark and the lights in the houses look magical to me, so Rich keeps filming. My camera went in with me and now lies wet and useless in my pocket, but I feel strangely warm despite being soaked through. The dark pours in and we haul the houses out of the river and walk back to the car under a nearly full moon. It’s a surprisingly chilly night and even when I’m back home I find it hard to warm up. It’s as if the cold has soaked right into me, right down to my bones.
I am sharing this as it is about the rhythms of tides effecting local social and economic life. Its a great book. As it happens is was published 30 years ago!
Tidal Cultures 