My job on Wednesday evening was to photograph the people, the crowds and to capture the general atmosphere at eclipse viewing hotspots on the west coast.
Close-up images of the actual eclipse were being taken care of by Nick Despres from his vantage point at Pleinmont.
I began my evening by stealing my son’s GoPro and frantically watching YouTube videos on how best to set it up for a long duration time-lapse as I wanted to see if I could create a short clip which would show the light dimming, and then returning throughout the course of the eclipse.
Once I had the camera set up as best I could, I walked from my house at Albecq to Lion Rock where I had to jump across a deep gully to get onto the rock itself before looking for a suitable hiding place for the camera. The tide was rising and the rock was already ‘cut off’ from the headland so I figured I’d be unlucky to have it nicked, and I left it there to look after itself.
I headed home, collected my cameras and wandered down to Cobo, already working up quite a sweat as dozens of e-bikes whizzed by and cars revved hard as they mounted the kerbs to park on the last few bits of land available. It was Boxing Day Swim levels of crowds and traffic, just a few degrees warmer.
I did a couple of shots of people with their solar viewing glasses and home-made pinhole cameras and then shot some long-lens pics of the crowds.
Conscious of the time, I headed back home to fetch a longer lens and headed to Vazon with about 30 minutes to go.
I had to walk in the road all the way from Albecq to Vazon because pretty much every bit of pavement was taken up by an abandoned car. I even noticed that some people had finally found an excuse to hit that 4x4 button on the dashboard and managed to get their vehicles over the ditch which runs up the road leading to Fort Hommet so they could park on the other side.
The scene at Vazon was really quite something, with every single bit of sea wall taken up by an enthusiastic eclipse hunter and, with the tide high, the small strip of remaining beach was thronged with deckchair seated couples, groups of teenagers and families spread out on blankets. Even the slipway was packed, right down to the water’s edge.
I sharpened my elbows and managed to get some shots of the crowds and a few more set-up pics before making my way a little further back for the main event, as I wanted to get a silhouette of the crowds with the sun behind.
I couldn’t help myself taking a couple of quick close-up shots of the eclipse as it hit maximum phase and then I put the camera down, found my wife and family on the wall and spent a couple of minutes just enjoying the spectacle. In 1999 we sailed with my father on his boat a few miles north of Guernsey so we could creep inside the 100% eclipse shadow and I’ll never forget that moment.
It went so dark, there was a sudden chill in the air and the squawking sea birds all landed on the water and fell silent.
Although this time around it was a less ‘impressive’ eclipse it was no less memorable.
More for the fantastic crowds, the searing heat and the camaraderie of sharing around those elusive goggles. It was a wonderfully ‘Guernsey’ event and I enjoyed every minute of it.
If you’re wondering how my Go-Pro footage turned out – not so great.