On the spur of the moment we’ve driven over to Brixham in the grey ‘Graham’ Skoda (or is it ‘Emily’?) Meadfoot beach felt too rocky to launch our bottles from.
The nearer to her home town Brixham we get the more reminiscent Haze becomes.
Onto Shoalstone beach we toddle. These scrabbly stones and pebbles are where Haze spent many of her childhood days.
In she throws her yellow lidded peanut jar. In I throw my little Hungarian vodka bottle (I drank all its contents in Budapest one very very cold winters day several years ago)
My message is a cryptic word puzzle. And Haze has written a warm message of heartfelt greeting to whomever should find her bottle – with an invitation to share, to connect.
And our messages are motoring! They’re going. Taking off with the tide towards, well towards where? According to brother Pete they’ll be racing up the English Channel on the back of windy storm tides towards The Isle of Wight. And maybe they’ll go on, and on further, drift on to France, or float their way up into the North Sea. Who knows?!
I’ve taken a few video clips of the decanting and dispersing of our messagey bottles. And also of a shag emerging and submerging itself, flushing the sea for fishes.
Words & Video: Ian Nisbet