Cuttlefish and their bones

Walk along Brighton’s pebbles and you’ll soon find yourself kicking out at brilliant-white oval-shaped objects that seem to be littering the beach. If you pick one up, it feels unnaturally lightweight. These are cuttlebones, as everyone knows, the internal shells of cuttlefish. They are not the most useful or interesting of beach finds, though they can be ground into powder for polishing, and jewellers have made moulds for casting metals. Today, most commonly, they serve as dietary supplements for pet birds. However, A.Z.L, my 13-year old son, likes turning them into art! This is his Cuttlebone Helter Skelter. Other artists like to carve them into shapes and scenes.

Each spring and summer, common cuttlefish (Sepia officinalis) migrate to shallow waters to breed, leaving behind thousands of eggs hidden among rocks and seaweed. Shortly after spawning, the adults die, and their remains drift with the tides. Their soft bodies decompose quickly, but the cuttlebones - made of lightweight, porous calcium carbonate - float on the water’s surface before washing ashore.

The prevailing southwesterly winds push them toward shore, where they land on Brighton’s pebbles rather than sinking into sand. Unlike driftwood, which might get swept back out to sea, cuttlebones tend to linger, their ghostly forms drying in the sun. Sometimes, you’ll find them with strange marks - tiny holes left by hungry seagulls pecking at the last traces of flesh.

Cuttlefish are fascinating creatures, according to Wikipedia, sometimes called the ‘chameleons of the sea’ due to their incredible ability to change colour and texture in moments. They use this skill to mesmerise prey, communicate with each other, or simply disappear into their surroundings. Though they have eight arms like an octopus, they also have two longer tentacles that strike out to snatch fish, crabs, or shrimp. Despite their intelligence and complex behaviour, their lifespans are surprisingly short - most live only a year or two before nature takes its course - adding another cuttlebone to the Brighton shoreline.

Over time, these bones have found strange uses beyond the sea. For centuries, people have ground them into powder as a polishing agent, while jewellers have used them to make moulds for casting metals. Artists have used them to carve objects of beauty - see Stephen Hughes’ work in South Africa’s Highway Mail. Today, most commonly, they serve as dietary supplements for pet birds, providing much-needed calcium for beak and bone health. 

Cuttlefish, of course, also have ink stores used to deter predators, but they also have long served man for different purposes, as a dye (to make non-iridescent reds, blues, and greens) and for food (to darken and flavour rice and pasta).

Snapshots of Storm Eunice

Storm Eunice, which hit Brighton four years ago today, was an extremely powerful extratropical cyclone with hurricane-force winds. A red weather warning was issued on 17 February for parts of South West England, with a second red warning issued on 18 February, the day the storm struck, for London, the South East and East of England.

Eunice is considered to be have been one of the most powerful storms to impact the south coast of England since the Great Storm of 1987. It set a new record for the fastest wind gust recorded in England at 122 mph (196 km/h) at The Needles, Isle of Wight. A Getty Image photo of Brighton Pier was shown on the BBC website (coincidentally, very similar to my photo above). Elsewhere in the country, the storm caused the deaths of three people.

The storm wreaked havoc across a large swathe of Western, Central and Northern Europe; millions of people were left without power across affected areas, and many homes had sustained damage. The UK was particularly hard hit, with 1.4 million homes left without power at its peak.

On the day, Brighton and Hove City Council issued a news release: ‘Brighton and Hove’s beaches can be extremely dangerous in stormy weather with violent waves coming from different directions, coupled with freezing temperatures and high spring tides. Our seafront team patrol the 13km (eight miles) of our seafront and look out for the safety of the public but we urge people to keep well away from high waves and rough seas.’

From my personal diary, 18 February 2022

‘Eunice has come and gone. I cycled down to the sea front which was quite a challenge (but on returning it was like being on an electric bike!). The sea was furious, with enormous waves rolling in so high that they were at the level of the pier, and if you’d been standing on the pier boards, the sea would have been washing over your feet. The pier was, of course, closed. Large danger signs were out on the beach, deterring people from getting too close to the surf crash. There were quite a few people around, not enough to call it a crowd, and most of them were taking, or trying to take, photos. Sheltered on the east side of the pier, it was fairly comfortable to stand and watch the roaring, boiling sea, and the foam ride along the pier sides, and under, but on the west side, it was too windy, and too wet, as sea spray was more often than not filling the air. Very exciting to see. I took a few photos myself, but was afraid of the camera getting wet.’

#palacepier #BrightonBeach365 #BrightonBeach #Brighton #BrightonLife #VisitBrighton #BrightonUK

The beaching of ‘Athina B’

Forty-five years ago today, Brighton Beach saw one of its most astonishing spectacles on record: the beaching of the merchant vessel Athina B, just east of the Palace Pier. Having suffered engine failure, the 3,500t vessel remained on the pebbles for a month, becoming a tourist attraction, and needing a police presence to deter looting. After the cargo had been removed by a mobile crane, she was refloated and towed to a scrapyard, Medway Secondary Metals, Kent, where she was scrapped. Her anchor, however, was eventually presented to the local authority, and given a plinth on the promenade close by where the ship had been beached.  

The Athina B had had a mixed history. Built in Hiroshima and named Kojima Maru, she was launched in 1968. She was then re-named twice before being reflagged (Greece) and re-named yet again, Athina B. 

The vessel had left the Azores on 1 December laden with 3,000t of pumice (which has widespread uses in agriculture, construction and manufacturing) heading for Shoreham-on-Sea. On route, however, she developed faults with the generator, gyro compass and radar, and stopped at La Rochelle for repairs. She arrived at Shoreham on 20 January but high winds meant she was unable to enter the harbour. Her engines failed, and a Mayday call was issued. Four lifeboat missions were required to rescue the crew and the captain’s family. Coxswain Ken Voice led the operations in the Shoreham lifeboat, Dorothy and Philip Constance, and was later awarded the RNLI Silver Medal for his bravery. The vessel, herself, began drifting east, eventually beaching on the pebbles five miles east of the harbour entrance.

The spectacle quickly attracted tourists, local and from further afield. British Rail advertised special away-day trips to see the wreck and Volks Electric Railway ran a special out-of-season service. Some of the visitors have recorded their memories on the My Brighton and Hove website. Gerry Hay, for example, says: ‘I was a Brighton cop at the time. I came out of the Palace Pier Police box early hours having had a ‘break’, only to see the ship on the beach. Thought it was a bad dream.’

And Mike Robe, who was in fact the captain’s brother-in-law, remembers there were lifeboat crewman injured: ‘It seems a hell of a long time ago now. However, I can remember every single part of it to this day, so it must have made an impression on me and indeed all of us that took part in the rescue. And there were many of us: two Lifeboats and shore helpers, coastguards, police, ambulances, Shoreham Community Centre, and W.R.V.S. Tug Meeching. It was a combined effort by all the services. Many people don’t realise that there were Lifeboat crewmen injured aboard the Newhaven Lifeboat that night.’

Various photographs of the wreck to be found online. The top one above was taken by Clive Warneford and can be viewed on Wikipedia; and the one below it is a photograph donated to Brighton & Hove Museums. 

The aging plaque on the anchor reads: ‘The Athina B was beached in a storm at this point on the night of 21st January 1980. Her crew were successfully taken off without loss of life thanks to the bravery of the men of the Shoreham Lifeboat. In a major salvage operation her cargo was discharged and the ship was refloated on the 17th February 1980. The ship’s anchor was presented by Medway Secondary Metals Limited in whose yard the ship was finally broken up. John Leach - Mayor of Brighton, 26th September 1980’

Après Ski By The Sea!

Snow does not often fall on Brighton Beach; and very infrequently does it settle on the pebbles. Nevertheless, yesterday saw a brief, but flurry-full snowstorm. There was traffic chaos, of course, and children’s joy undiminished in residential streets and parks. It may or may not be widely known but Brighton Beach has the perfect venue for such days.

Located at 127 Kings Road Arches, the family-run Brighton Music Hall boasts the largest beach terrace in the UK with covered spaces. Every winter, the owners say, ‘we like to bring you something new and exciting - join us for Après Ski By The Sea!’. Amazingly, I would say, so far from the mountains, Après Ski By The Sea! features faux fur filled igloos, ski chalets clad with tartans, cushions, alpine backdrops and log fires, the Fallen Fairy bar, and decadent cocktails, alpine treats and dishes. And, of course, a wooden toboggan.

Currently, the venue’s website offers, in its What’s On section, ‘Drag Roasts’ and ‘Funky Fridays’. It is also promising free fizz for early birds who are prepared to make a 15 + booking for Christmas 2025.

As it’s perfectly possible the rest of these 365 days will pass by without further snowfalls, I am taking this opportunity to display the most snowy Brighton Beach photo I have - from April 2008. Although the ragged snowman is mine, the photo of Hattie was taken by a passing stranger, a professional cameraman who asked permission to take it, and then sent us a copy. Unfortunately, I seem to have no record of his name.

Whistle, hoot, whistle

Whistle, hoot, whistle. This first BrightonBeach365 post is my humble contribution to the start of nationwide celebrations to mark 200 years of UK rail travel. The first event took place today at midday: a combined whistle blowing from all available heritage railway locomotives. And the famous Volk’s Electric Railway - which runs along the beach from the Aquarium to Black Rock - took part. The Volk’s Electric Railway Association (VERA) stated: ‘As you know our Volk’s cars don’t have whistles so we will be sounding all available warning devices (klaxons and horns) from the available Volk’s fleet outside the depot at Halfway (Peter Pans) at 12 noon.’

Though not, in fact, going back anywhere near two centuries, Volk’s claim to fame is for being the oldest operating ELECTRIC railway IN THE WORLD (or ON THE PLANET as David Attenborough might say). It was opened by Brighton born inventor Magnus Volk in 1883, passed briefly to his son on his death in 1937, and then, the year after, to Brighton Corporation (which became Brighton & Hove City Council). It’s closed for the winter, but an excellent pictorial essay on the railway’s history can be found at VERA’s website.

This New Year morning has proved an inauspicious start to the BrightonBeach365 project. I could barely cycle down to the sea front because the wind was gusting so strongly, at over 40 mph. On the pebbles it was super-windy, freezing to the hands, mist limiting not-so-distant vision, and monstrous, grisly waves rolling in, threatening DANGER banners put out by the coastguard. 

Whistle, hoot, whistle.