There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil’d, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads. […]
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
‘T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
( Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Ulysses”)
This is the story of a wanderer whose ship set sail to cross the English Channel. As the head wind became stronger, the square-rigged vessel approached the lighthouse and drifted along the coastline. Intrigued by the signs of habitation amongst decaying ruins of concrete, the sailors threw anchor and set foot on the shingle. The place was called Dungeness.
The journey map
Exquisite corpse collage – site composition
Unfolded view from approaching the sea – past communities (fishermen, then plant workers), new communities (artist/nonconformist), future