Karena Perronet-Miller

Docks  19 of 33 / View all

Whenever possible I try and visit fishing docks all over the world.I’m captivated by their natural rhythm. A sort of coalition between the sea, commerce, technology, chance and unrelenting human graft. The beauty of a working harbour is easily overlooked. Synchronised to perfection a working dock is like a pair of lungs inhaling and then exhaling over and over again.

In the early hours of the morning the docks becomes a hive of activity. Swarms of workers hustle around the boats as they discharge their cargo.In seconds the catch of the day changes hands and direction like a fraught shoal of bait -fish. The choking odour of the dying sea is matched by the volume of hollering vendors and throbbing foghorns. Broadcasts from the tannoy system are twisted and reshaped by the atmospheric conditions and muffled by the vast buffer of human bodies. The essence of trade remains the same.The sale of perishable fish on a day to day basis. It’s an unforgettable experience. From the tea vendor to the skipper, every face tells a story of defiance, courage and relentless hard work.