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Fresh Faces

What do we wish to learn when we gaze into the face of others,

Is it a glimpse into something deep, something unknown

A special quality our consciousness has yet seen discovered.

Is it a familiarity we want to unveil looking and longing until it’s shown

Something more than the many expressions etched across one’s face;

Be it lines from a blessed life’s smile

Or a life lived at speed beyond their pace,

Objectivity is often swayed by beauty’s guile

And what’s left is rarely to our taste.

It all begins with the bright & burning desire of youth

But springtime looks soon get withered thin,

Once smiling kids playing freely now know the truth

That hope & love are lost to a whim

Like tears on a sad letter’s ink, summer’s faces start to run

Wisdom shows around dimming eyes whose autumn colours lose their glow

Wrinkles form like broken webs a spiders’ spun

Locks of hair turn the colour of winter’s snow

Flames diminish from the soul far too quickly

So all that keeps our spirit warm is a loving cuddle,

Gratefully embraced from birth to burial meaning every age has its beauty

Remember this before fond memories start to muddle…

Time the biggest thief takes it all,

Before ones ready looks are lost

Some show how it’s tamed and act the fool

Others try looking forever young and count the cost

Vanity is the cause, but age rolls on despite the stall,

It seems happiness blesses those who can reveal a grin,

The antidote to any frown let this be your light relief

Share with others and watch this charm help fill the tin,

All smiles count even those with missing teeth.

Those who care to share with the world their pleasure

Contain within their hearts the beautiful inner child

They know life is something to always treasure

Young, free and sometimes wild

Try to view the world and all her people through a youthful eye

And you’ll see it new as though it’s wrapped in shiny paper

It might not make us any richer but our sense of character will surely multiply

Facial scowls will soften & thaw as Jack Frost cuts a caper

Dancing away on a fresh spring day his work complete for another season

Like the years, all too quickly they’ll past by too

So make your peace and live life good for this reason:

For all that life gives and takes do just remember those who loves you true.

It’s not always easy to see the best in people when so much is preconceived

But if we look for something special their inner star shining bright

To take a moment’s pause just to hesitate our initial hate this can be achieved

When such thoughts are brought to still it offers the most impressive sight.

Lets wait and see who they really are with a simple count to ten

Quieten the mind and simply look beyond…

The mirror, the reflection & the self, see life as though a Zen

Ignore the imperfections this isn’t why humans bond.

Heads & hearts surfeited with poor judgement spill ill will like overflowing cups

No space for anything new or anything worth its due

Instead lets drink from Ganga whether we’re scruffy beggars or the cutest pups.

All are welcome to taste her purity just join the queue

As you wait just remember true value isn’t weighed the same as gold

Fools may think wealth & riches come from rocks deep in the ground

But when your demons dance it’s a friendly hand that you reach out to hold

It’s the gaze of your lover’s eyes that beats the drum for your heart to pound

Not the specularity of a rare stone under the jeweller’s light

When fortunes sparkle it’s worth a peep

When discovering love it’s blinding, that’s how bright

The moment two become one you know they’re the one to keep.

Like the colours in a late summer’s sunset

Beauty, love and passion all begin to fade

Reds turn to brown while leaven minds think only of regret

The sinking sun casts a thousand shadows where the reaper lurks in their shade

Tree branches where leafs once danced in the wind look stark and bare

Like wilting skin hanging off aging soul

Nature serves to remind us that life’s too short not to care

And death’s too long when buried in a 6-foot hole

We’re the diamond created from a million lives lived as coal

Yet this lesson is only learnt when it’s way too late

Life’s not a subject taught at school or on any page starting with 3 Ws and a dot

Nor was it ever part of the three R’s written with chalk and slate

We live in ignorance with no reason for why or knowledge of what

Like rotting leafs laid to silence on earth’s forest floor

Illuminated briefly by the last few rays of the burning sun

How our time’s spent here we should not ignore

They say there’s a formula for everything so what’s the sum?

To live life free from illness or ever growing old

To find true love and make the whole world proud

It’s the secret we’re never told

Because so little time is allowed

Before we and the sun pass on bye

Into the big fluffy clouds in the sky

Take one last chance to sneak a peek

So if given a second chance we’ll know what and where to seek.

The feelings that we were experiencing by seeing what was laid out in front of us once again got us back to thinking about our childhood beach shenanigans. It was the mixed felt memories of building sand castles as any child or adult who has been fortunate enough to have visited a beach will probably have had similar experiences of having eaten your hearty picnic lunch comprising manly of sand before your attention would turn to attempting to build your empire, out of what else but sand. Having devoted much of your afternoon to such a task it and with the sun setting on your Empire (Rome wasn’t built in a day and you never had a few hundred years like the British for it never to set on it) the tide would come in and wash it away like it was never even there, leaving your hard graft and prized construction in tatters. Looking for sympathy, help, hope, strength and perhaps even guidance, more often than not someone with more life experience would offer you the sound but patronising advice something along the lines of “You should have built some defences…then your castle wouldn’t have been washed away…”

Sound advice indeed but it would have had to be a mighty defence to prevent a sand castle from returning back to, well just more beach. But for the sight that lay before our eyes the same advice was all that was going through my mind. Like sandcastles being wash away by the sea what we were staring bleakly at were people’s homes hanging precariously on the cliff edge with no defence except the cliff itself, which seems to be eroding before our very eyes. With piles of wood, mortar and other bits of what were once family homes that had once included complimentary panoramic views of miles of pristine coastline stretching miles, I couldn’t help but think of the Chaos series of images captured by the brilliant photographer Josef Koudelka of post-communist Russia. These mono images providing such beautiful, graphic shapes and splendid tones which were somehow aesthetically stunning in content but so devastating in meaning. The stunning visual catastrophe is made so visibly poignant because of the symbolism on display, crumbled concrete statues of Lenin and Stalin of the stickle and hammer laid shattered and decaying on the floor reminding everyone of the destruction and abandonment of what was once to revered and powerful. In parallel to what our eyes were beholding were the great dreams and beautiful homes and businesses people once took such pride and pleasure living and working in, now just piles of rubble and ruins along the beach. It presents an almost apocalyptic view describing an end of an era captured through a medium that transcends time and preserves space with such grace and dignity that the realisation that you are witnessing an end of Era is nearly forgotten, nearly missed.

This is where it all started, the visual beauty masking the tragic reality that was happening not only to this small and picturesque village but all across inhabited coastal lines around Britain, let us not forget that 16.9 million people live within 6 miles from the coast. Like the memories of our happy childhood days brought back into the forefront of our consciousness by the sweeping coastal landscapes this village looked to be heading the same way. It’s fate seemed destined to be washed away, a victim of global warning and rising sea levels with little care from anybody except the villagers who were losing everything, even the dreams they had for raising their families in such amazing homes situated in a wonderful location, perhaps even carrying aspirations of seeing out their days in perfect serenity. Unlike Josef Koudelka’s Chaos photographs whose setting was in a far off land and in a time that was truly past, this was in the here and now. This time our transfixed eyes were gazing upon the tangible, something we could capture, something we were passionate about, something we felt we could help with. Unlike the wind, which in this part of the world they say doesn’t go around you, it goes right through you, well, so did what we were seeing. It had gone right through us and we were determined to follow it. We had to find out what was happening to the people still living in the homes that remained on top the cliff, we had so many questions that we needed answering, we couldn’t leave without some local knowledge on what was happening. As kids when our sand castles were being washed up by the sea it was a case of, well, I guess it’s time to call it a day the sea is a mighty opponent after all, it’s not like we have to try and live in them. What was similar is the cheering up of the thought of a nice 99 ice cream to help us forget and let us prepare to fight for another day. Well we couldn’t find an ice cream van or even a café (because that was closed as a result of being precariously close to falling off the cliff) but we did find hope, in abundance; we found a great community spirit with a willingness to fight with such clarity and passion that was and still is simply awe-inspiring.

In essence we found: the CCAG, the Coastal Campaign Action Group, whose leader Malcolm Kirby, had more guidance, charisma, guile and fighting tenacity than almost anyone I have ever met. His single-mindedness to help protect the coastline, it’s inhabitants and fight for the justice that we feel is owed to the victims who have and are suffering from the effects of coastal erosion, is impassioned. Let’s put it this way if he was there when our sand castles were being washed up by the relentless waves, the so-called rational advice we heard would have been met by “out of way lads” and he would have laid himself down in the sand using his own body as a defence. After time when the cold seawater and misty night air would have defeated most, he would have kept himself and everybody else going with endless tales full of inspiration, wisdom and humour. Such is his compassion and sense of integrity as well as sheer bloody mindedness that nothing deters him, politicians, dredging companies, government agencies and even cold weather and stalking cameramen doesn’t stop him from fighting the good fight.

We found Clive Stockton and his lovely wife, the owners of the beautiful Hill House pub whose investment in the pub was to be a new beginning for a new relaxed life on the seafront to cater for locals and tourists alike, come summer and winter, serving delicious local food and drinks to those who admired and relished the quaintness and chilled coastal atmosphere the village had to offer. It was their dream to enjoy this laid-back lifestyle believing that if they put in the hard work it would ensure both their life and business would become thriving successes. A success that would not only ensure them the ideal lifestyle they had worked so hard to achieve but also provide their children with a beautiful and safe environment they could equally enjoy while growing up and could continue when they decided to retire. A family business they could pass on if they so wished. They purchased the pub under the pretences that the coastline was protected against erosion and would continue to be protected under the Coastal Protection Act of 1949. With wooden revetments in place this worked well but under the constant barrage of the roaring waves, over time they like everything else weathered and rotted to the point that now they are mostly gone and the few that remain are largely ineffective. So with a home and business that should be worth twice what they paid for it is now worth little more than half the original cost. Just to make it worse it is even uninsurable leaving there future, like the pub itself on the edge and fighting for survival.
In a similar situation we found the Manor Caravan Park caravan site owners Chris and David Lomax. Their story follows suit, a father and son business, which had been in the family for years during which they enjoyed a very successful tertiary business like many coastal caravan sites along the coast and with regular investment and expansion it boomed. It’s the kind of place that many a family holiday has been enjoyed by people all around the country over the years. However, since the sea defences started to fail and the cliff edge started to fall beneath the waves they have lost large portions of land that would once have housed caravans. Lost space resulting in lost revenue has now meant they can’t afford to invest in new facilities because they know all to well unless the government invests in renewing sea defences then the land is lost and so is their business. Years of hard work, care and pride washed away, so now they try there hardest to maintain the caravan site to the best they can, for as long as they can, knowing their days as owners are numbered.

Meeting Diane Wrightson was probably the most heart wrenching and the moment when the vulnerability of the victims of those living closest to the cliff edge really struck home. Having to live with very real possibility of having her home and possessions consumed by the sea really gave us perspective to the problems facing Happisburgh. Diane is a lady of great courage and gumption to defy the onslaught of her home against the danger and unknown forces of the elements. Having watched over the years as her neighbours houses fell victim to the sea she remained in her home and ran the local tea shop to the point when the cliff became her back garden taking down her shed along the way. When we first met her she was being forced out of the home and business into sheltered housing by the council as her house was only one storm away from crashing to the bottom of the sea. It was her determination along with the other village members and the CCAG to fight against government policy that so inspired us to make this documentary we named ‘Turning Tides’. Their efforts to try to make them see sense and once again protect these people against the elements by restoring the coastal defences and if not, to at least offer compensation in a way similar to the packages offered to people who are resettled when roads are built through there homes. To give them a financial freedom, so at the very least they can try to build a new life somewhere else. But to be forced into temporary hosing because you have nothing else except the place you have always called home and have strived your whole life to run a business from by making the guests and locals who care enough to visit your part the world as welcome as you feel yourself, seems just to much to stomach. To have it all taken away through no fault of your own and to be left to cling on to nothing except fond memories and a fight for justice. To have to cling on to this like your home clings to the cliff edge and to refuse to feel self-pity and melancholy is an inner strength that you sometimes hear from those living in Britain through the hardships of the Second World War. Simply put she is someone to aspire to.

Having by chance visited this quaint and beautiful little village as a result of a day out for a post Christmas walk little did we know who and what we would find when we decided to make a documentary about our discovery and the villager’s turbulent journey. Having described some of the characters we met while making it, we feel it’s important to share what we learned from having interviewed professors, scientists, politicians, dredgers, campaigners and of course locals. What we describe next is the basis of another documentary we wish to cut to go along side the original 30-minute human-interest film. I guess in brief it’s the sobering reality to what you learn as you delve into any problem. The deeper down the rabbit hole you venture the further we find ourselves from the innocent place we so enjoyed as kids growing up and playing along this beautiful stretch of coastline.
Having seen and heard first hand how destructive and upsetting the lack of compensation and support for the victims of this tragic process was and still is we found ourselves compelled to learn all we could about what was happening and why so little was being done to try to prevent it. It soon became apparent that an apathetic attitude at a political level was why so little concern and economic support was being taken to help Happisburgh and its residents. Just like the words from memories past said “You should have built some defences…then your castle wouldn’t have been washed away…” that advice had been taken under the Coastal Protection Act of 1949 and was very effective. Evidence of this can be seen along the beach at Happisburh where a few remaining wooden revetments remain intact and work efficiently by not only breaking the waves just as they start to form gathering size and power which would damage the cliffs. They also help trap the sand sediment before it goes back out to sea. This Leaves sand on the beach helping in itself to naturally help protect against cliff erosion. It is at these points where the cliff is most preserved and protruding, whereas barely a few tens of meters to either side you can see the devastating impact the waves make to the cliffs without it. The fundamental lack of funding for the replacement and upkeep of wooden revetments, boulders or sea walls are the reason for the vast erosion taking place. Everybody involved understands it not cheap to maintain coastal protection on a small island country but as has so often been pointed out within the debate can we afford not to protect it. It would be unfair and inaccurate to suggest that no protection was taking place because it has. Along the coast just a few miles they have built a concrete wall in Sea Palling a coastal resort in the more commercial holidaymakers mould. This is great for sea Palling and having spent a few regular years summer holidaying there, with many a day as kids learning how to dream of playing cricket for England along its beaches and losing money on arcade machines. However, this solution of protecting Sea Palling had led to an increase of coastal erosion to other parts of the coastline including Happisburgh. The logic of protecting Sea Palling is obvious it has a bigger population and is more profit generating as well as having very little natural cliff protection so it has to be protected because without any the whole of Norfolk is extremely vulnerable to mass flooding as further back from the coastline is low lying ground that would be swamped by the sea. It was through the vast knowledge of Professor Tim O’Riodean who explained with such clarity and astuteness the effects of exactly this and provided us with a map showing a scientific forecast that would look like if the cliffs at Happisburgh and other similar unprotected areas were left to nature. With the cliffs eroded away the sea would be free to flood the low lying land (some of the lowest in the country) and once this has taken place it would be impossible to reverse the process, leaving Ely surrounded an island city surrounded by sea. As nice as this sounds for the prospects of the Ely- tourist board and possibly wealthy bankers wanting another bank holiday home somewhere close but a bit more exotic, it would be a disaster for a country that is has such large populous areas built on flood plains, such as the many towns and villages in Lincolnshire, Suffolk and Southend. According to the data that was collected and calculated to make the map this nightmare scenario would be completed by as early as 2050.
It was also through Professor Tim O’Riodean formerly Professor of Environmental Sciences Head at the University of East Anglia that we learnt a great deal about dredging and its negative impact upon our coastline. If you have ever been to Amsterdam and flown to Strobol airport you may be surprised to learn that it was built from the aggregate dredged from the seabed around 20 miles off the shore of the Norfolk coast by the Hanson Aggregate Marine, Europe’s largest producer of marine-dredged sand and gravel. The problem with dredging and the reason why it is thought to be precipitating the rate of which the coastline is disappearing is that by removing large areas of sand and gravel from the seabed means sand from the beaches is carried back by the sea to replace what has been removed. The more sand that is taken from the beaches the less protection the cliffs have and the more exposed the lower parts of the cliffs are, making them more vulnerable to erosion. Despite numerous scientific studies from around the world finding links between dredging and increased rates of coastal erosion the government and Hanson deny it. They claim they do not dredge within a radius of 21 miles off the coastline because they believe there is no scientific evidence that from this range it can affect the coastline and increase the threat of erosion. It is interesting that the Dutch government do not dredge anywhere this close to their own coastline realising that Holland is so close to sea level (similar to Norfolk) that to risk such dredging from their own shores could jeopardise there very existence, hence why they pay handsomely for Norfolk dredged aggregate to build their own airports instead of there own.

For the residents of Happisburgh losing their homes this is incredibly hard to phantom. When they get nothing for losing their homes and livelihoods but through exporting dredged seabed from essentially their back garden the government are receiving over a million pounds a week through taxes imposed on the dredging companies. It is through this type of action that you can see why the residents of Happisburgh are enraged and feel abandoned by those they believe have a responsibility to do what is right and just. They see it as the government profiting from their misfortune and offering nothing in return. Using the example we were often quoted when the subject of compensation arose, the analogy of those residents who receive compensation for having their homes destroyed to make way for roads you know they have a point. Perhaps because they are so close to the cliff edge the government thinks there’s precious little they can do to make political waves but as many know, when backed in to a corner with nowhere to go, people find great strength and appetite to fight with unity for what’s right and that is what they’re doing.
In this fight for justice for the victims not only of Happsiburgh but those in similar circumstances around the world who are struggling in the face of adversity caused by coastal erosion we hope the people we have already met will not be the last we meet through this story and hopefully we meet you, the reader, and/or the viewer, who if inspired, fascinated or touched in anyway would like to know more or would like to help then you can visit www.happisburgh.org.uk
We are also indebted to all the people who made this documentary possible and thank them deeply and hope in a small way we have helped a little and can continue to do so in the future. Thank you.