The Life Aquatic

I grew up by the sea. Granted, there weren’t many waves I could surf, aged toddler in Hong Kong, and what with the odd shark – and the backwash from the biggest natural harbour in the world – you rarely spent too much time inspecting the bottom of the bay. And frankly, to pretend I was so enamoured with it as to sit on a beach, aged six, and appreciate the stretch of emeralded turquoise out in front of me would be entirely pretentious: building sandcastles, digging sand cars, exploring rockpools, or – in my case – paddling around in the shallows, caught in three hour, talkative daydreams always seemed like a much better use of my time. But the salty lick of the waves, the feel of sand between my toes, the push and pull of the tide has always made me feel clean. Scrubbed. New. And anyone who has ever so much as bodysurfed, or dived underneath the wash of the swell on holiday, knows there is no greater confirmation that you are alive, and that your heart is beating, as when you crash through a wave and the water sucks over you.

These photos – excerpts from The Underwater Project – by Australian photographer Mark Tipple, of swimmers and surfers taking on the plunge of a wave, so pinpoint the fleeting seconds when the sapphire booms down and you’re caught, suspended in the colossal weight of the water as it washes to shore, that it makes me ache.

{All images Mark Tipple}


3 thoughts on “The Life Aquatic

  1. Pingback: Han Friday « Red Nails and Teacups

  2. Pingback: Tyne, Forth, Cromarty « Red Nails and Teacups

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