Friday, 6 March 2026

The Salvage Archive: A Journey Back to Calgary Bay, Isle of Mull, 1966

 There is a unique magic hidden within the grain of a vintage 35mm slide. When the projector hums to life and that bright, dust-flecked beam of light hits the screen, it doesn’t just show a picture; it opens a portal. Today, I am thrilled to share a very special piece of my personal archive: two beautifully preserved slides of Calgary Bay on the Isle of Mull, captured during the summer of 1966.

These images offer more than just a scenic view; they are a quiet witness to a different era of Scottish travel, showcasing one of the Inner Hebrides' most iconic beaches before the age of mass tourism and digital immediacy.


A scenic, wide-angle view of Calgary Bay on the Isle of Mull, Scotland, taken in 1966. In the blurred foreground, lichen-covered rocks and purple heather are visible. Beyond the deep blue water of the bay lies a bright white sandy beach, backed by a lush green valley and dense woodland under a sloped hillside. The image has the nostalgic, grainy texture of a mid-century colour photograph.

The Untouched Beauty of Calgary Bay

Calgary Bay has long been regarded as one of the finest beaches in Scotland. Located on the north-west coast of the Isle of Mull, it is famous for its "machair"—the low-lying fertile grassy plain—and its startlingly white shell sand.

In these 1966 photographs, the timeless nature of the landscape is striking. In one view taken from an elevated, rocky vantage point, we see the bay's famous white sands shimmering under the soft Scottish light. The foreground is dominated by rugged rocks and patches of hardy coastal flora, likely purple heather or wild thyme, which still blankets the island today. Across the water, the dense woodland and the gentle rise of the hills frame the beach in a way that feels sheltered and ancient.

A vintage 1960s color photograph of Calgary Bay on the Isle of Mull. A small white classic car is parked on a grassy verge overlooking the calm, light-colored water of the bay. A person sits in a chair next to the car, facing the sea. In the distance, dark, silhouetted cliffs and headlands stretch into the ocean under a pale, overcast sky. The image has a grainy, film-like quality with a high-contrast aesthetic.

A Snapshot of 1960s Adventure

The second slide in the collection provides a wonderful "human interest" element that perfectly captures the spirit of mid-century motoring. We see a classic white car, likely an Austin or Morris of the era, parked right at the edge of the grassy machair overlooking the Atlantic. Beside it, a figure sits in a folding chair, perhaps taking in the evening air or waiting for the kettle to boil on a portable stove.

In 1966, a trip to Mull was a true expedition. The roads were almost entirely single-track with passing places, and the ferries were smaller and less frequent than the modern CalMac fleet we know today. This image encapsulates the "slow travel" movement decades before it had a name—the simple joy of finding a quiet spot, turning off the engine, and letting the silence of the Hebrides wash over you.


The 35mm Aesthetic: Why Film Matters

Looking at these slides, you notice a colour palette that modern digital sensors struggle to replicate. The blues of the water have a deep, cinematic quality, and the greens of the hills are rich and organic.

  • The Grain: There is a physical texture to these images that tells you they were made of light hitting silver halide crystals.

  • The Atmosphere: The 1966 light feels softer, perhaps filtered through a different quality of Atlantic mist or simply preserved by the chemical aging of the slide itself.

  • The Story: Every slide in a collection like this represents a deliberate choice. In 1966, you only had 24 or 36 exposures on a roll. You didn't "burst" twenty photos of the same wave; you waited for the right moment.

Calgary Bay: Then and Now

While much of the world has changed since 1966, Calgary Bay remains remarkably preserved. Thanks to its remote location and the stewardship of the local community, you can still stand on those same rocks today and see a view that is almost identical to the one captured in these slides.

However, the "wild camping" feel seen in the photo with the car has become more regulated to protect the fragile machair environment. Today, visitors are encouraged to use designated areas to ensure that the white sands and rare wildflowers remain for another sixty years.

Why Visit Calgary Bay Today?

  • The Sand: The sand is made largely of crushed shells, giving it a brilliant white glow even on overcast days.

  • The Art: The nearby "Art in Nature" woodland walk features sculptures hidden among the trees.

  • The Wildlife: It is a prime spot for seeing White-tailed Sea Eagles soaring over the headlands.

  • The History: From the ruins of abandoned villages nearby to these 1960s memories, the bay is a layer cake of Scottish history.


Preserving the Past

Sharing these 35mm slides is a reminder of the importance of physical archives. In an age where we take thousands of photos on our phones that are often never looked at again, these two slides have survived over half a century to tell us a story about a car, a beach, and a quiet moment in the sun.

Whether you are a fan of vintage photography, a lover of the Isle of Mull, or someone who appreciates the nostalgia of the 1960s, I hope these images transport you to the water's edge at Calgary Bay.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!


Tuesday, 3 March 2026

Scaling the Skies: A Visit to the Iconic Redcar Beacon

 Nestled on the rugged and beautiful North Yorkshire coastline lies a vertical pier that has sparked conversation, divided opinions, and ultimately become a symbol of modern seaside regeneration. The Redcar Beacon, a striking 80-foot structure, stands as a sentinel over the Esplanade, offering visitors a perspective of the Teesside coast that was once reserved only for the gulls.

Whether you are a local rediscovering your hometown or a traveller exploring the hidden gems of Northern England, the Beacon is a must-visit destination. In this post, we’ll take a deep dive into why this "vertical pier" is the heartbeat of Redcar's seafront.


A wide-angle view of Redcar beach at low tide, featuring the vertical Redcar Beacon tower with its purple accents and spiral walkway against a cloudy sky.

A ground-level view from the beach looking up at the Redcar Beacon, showing the distinct purple and gold spiral walkway wrapped around the glass tower, set behind a tall concrete sea wall.

A medium-distance view of the Redcar Beacon tower featuring a purple and gold spiral walkway, seen from the wet sand of Redcar beach with a row of coastal houses in the background under a grey sky.

A street-level close-up of the Redcar Beacon showing people walking by the glass base, with the intricate purple and gold helical walkways wrapping around the tower against a cloudy sky.

A centred, eye-level photograph of the Redcar Beacon taken from across the road, highlighting the repeating gold and purple patterns of the spiral walkway wrapping around the vertical structure.

A low-angle shot of the Redcar Beacon from the promenade, focusing on the purple and gold helical walkways as they ascend the tower, with a street lamp and signage in the foreground.

An Architectural Marvel on the Esplanade

The first thing you notice about the Redcar Beacon is its unapologetic design. Rising seven stories into the North Sea breeze, its cylindrical form is wrapped in a shimmering, helical steel mesh that glows with purple and gold accents.

Designed as part of a multi-million-pound regeneration project, the Beacon wasn't just built to be looked at—it was built to be experienced. As you approach from the sandy expanse of Redcar Beach, the structure looms over the concrete sea defences, a futuristic contrast to the traditional Victorian terraces that line the nearby streets.

The Ascent: A Journey Through the Clouds

What makes the Redcar Beacon truly special is the journey to the top. The structure features a series of internal and external walkways that spiral upward.

  • The Ground Floor: Often home to small independent businesses or information points, the base is the gateway to your climb.

  • The Creative Hub: As you ascend, you’ll notice studio spaces designed for creative industries, adding a layer of functional art to the building.

  • The Viewing Platform: This is the crown jewel. Once you reach the top, you are greeted by an open-air gallery that offers 360-degree panoramic views.

A View Like No Other

Standing on the top deck of the Beacon, the wind in your hair and the salt on your lips, the scale of the North East landscape unfolds before you.

An elevated coastal view from the Redcar Beacon looking south along the North Yorkshire coastline. On the left, a wide sandy beach is marked by tire tracks and tide pools, stretching toward a distant rocky headland under an overcast sky. In the center, a concrete promenade with tiered sea defenses separates the beach from a seaside road lined with cars, colorful storefronts, and amusement arcades like "Playland." Several people are walking along the sidewalk, and blue shipping containers are positioned near a construction area along the sea wall.

Looking South: The Cliffs of Saltburn

Scanning southwards, your eyes follow the curve of the bay toward the dramatic cliffs of Huntcliff near Saltburn-by-the-Sea. On a clear day, the contrast between the deep blue of the North Sea and the lush greenery of the Cleveland Way is breathtaking. You can watch the waves roll in across the "scars"—the rocky outcrops visible at low tide—creating intricate patterns in the sand.

An elevated view looking north from the Redcar Beacon across the coastal town of Redcar. To the left, a long row of traditional multi-story Victorian terraced houses with red-tiled roofs lines the Esplanade. A wide road with parked cars and a few pedestrians separates the houses from a modern, white rectangular building identified as "The Regent" cinema. On the right, a vast sandy beach meets the North Sea under a pale, overcast sky, with concrete sea defenses and a paved promenade running parallel to the shore.

Looking North: The Industrial Skyline

Turning to the north, the view shifts from natural beauty to industrial heritage. You can see the mouth of the River Tees and the sprawling silhouettes of the Teesside industry. It’s a powerful reminder of the region’s "Ironopolis" roots, where the steel that built the world was forged. Beyond the industry, the wind turbines of the Teesside Offshore Windfarm stand like toothpicks in the ocean.

A high-angle view looking inland over the rooftops of Redcar from the Beacon's observation deck. In the foreground, a purple structural column and a metal safety railing frame the scene. Below, a dense mix of residential and commercial buildings with varied rooflines stretches toward the horizon. In the distance, the green slopes of the Cleveland Hills rise under a bright, cloudy sky. Prominent signs for local businesses, including "Daisy-Mae’s Vintage Tea Room," are visible at street level.

Looking Inland: The Gateway to the Moors

If you turn your back to the sea, you aren't disappointed. The view inland reveals the tight-knit grid of Redcar’s streets, leading the eye toward the distant, rolling silhouettes of the North York Moors. It is a rare spot where you can truly appreciate how the coast and the country collide in this part of England.


More Than Just a View: The Regent and Beyond

From the elevated vantage point of the Beacon, you can spot the other new addition to the skyline: The Regent Cinema. This sleek, modern building sits right on the edge of the beach, continuing the theme of modern architecture revitalizing the seafront. Between the Beacon and the Regent, Redcar has successfully blended its nostalgic "lemon top" ice cream heritage with a forward-thinking aesthetic.

Tips for Your Visit

If you're planning a trip to the Redcar Beacon, here are a few things to keep in mind:

  1. Check the Weather: The North Sea can be temperamental. While the Beacon is sturdy, the viewing platform is open-air. A clear, sunny day offers the best visibility, but a moody, overcast sky makes for some incredible dramatic photography.

  2. Bring Your Camera: Whether you have a professional DSLR or a smartphone, the angles provided by the spiral mesh and the heights are a photographer's dream.

  3. Explore the Beach: After your descent, take a walk on the vast sands. At low tide, the beach is enormous, perfect for dog walking, sand art, or simply clearing your head.

  4. Support Local: The area surrounding the Beacon is filled with charming cafes and traditional fish and chip shops. Nothing beats a warm bag of chips after a breezy climb!

Final Thoughts

The Redcar Beacon is more than just a building; it’s a statement of intent. It celebrates the height, the heritage, and the horizon of a town that is proudly evolving. It offers a moment of reflection—a chance to stand above the hustle and bustle of the Esplanade and look out at the infinite beauty of the North Yorkshire coast.

Next time you find yourself in the North East, don't just drive past. Stop, climb, and see the world from the Beacon.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!


All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green

Friday, 27 February 2026

A Moody Monochrome Wander: Sowerby Bridge's Canals and Heritage

Date: November 24, 2019

There’s a certain kind of beauty in a gloomy, late-autumn walk, especially one that weaves through the industrial heritage of a place like Sowerby Bridge. On November 24th, 2019, I set out to trace a route along the town’s intersecting waterways—the Calder & Hebble Navigation and the Rochdale Canal—capturing the muted, atmospheric tones of the day.

Starting the Journey: Chain Bridge

My walk began at the Chain Bridge on the Calder & Hebble Navigation. The black-and-white view of the old stone buildings and the quiet, reflective water immediately set the mood . The towpath here, flanked by housing and overgrown banks , felt secluded, a peaceful contrast to the town’s bustling history.

The view towards Sowerby Bridge Canal Basin from Chain Bridge. The junction with the Rochdale Canal visible to the left. 

Chain Bridge


Chain Bridge, The Navigation Inn to the left. The bridge once used to have a chain pulled across to prevent access to the canal wharf on Sundays, hence the name Chain Bridge.


The Heart of the Waterways: Locks and Tunnels

The route quickly led me to the junction where the Calder & Hebble meets the Rochdale Canal, one of the grand pioneers of the British canal system.

A highlight was the cluster of locks here. The sepia-toned view of Lock 1 , with its mist and the distant, looming sight of the Wainhouse Tower, felt like stepping back a century. A little further on, the view framed by bare branches over Lock 2 gave the industrial structures a sombre, cinematic quality.

I also took a moment to capture the imposing view near the Tuel Lane Tunnel entrance . Framed by the reflection in the dark canal water, the sturdy stone of the buildings and the tower of Christ Church stood as silent witnesses to Sowerby Bridge’s long past.

Kirkham Turn, The start of the Rochdale Canal.


Lock 1 on the Rochdale Canal.

Lock 1


Lock 2 on the Rochdale Canal.

Lock 1 viewed from Lock 2. Wainhouse Tower dominates the distant horizon.

Tuel Lane Tunnel and Christ Church. The canal was blocked here for decades.


Hidden Paths and Arches

Leaving the main canal junction, I crossed the River Calder and followed the path beneath Lock Hill Bridge. This section was particularly evocative. The cobbled path, walled in by rough stone and corrugated iron , felt like a secret passage. The tunnel-like perspective, captured in warm sepia, highlighted the rugged textures and the long-forgotten shortcuts of the area.

The River Calder from Lock Hill Bridge.

Lock Hill Bridge

After passing through the dimly lit subway beneath Sowerby Bridge Railway Station , I headed towards the local woodland, taking in sections of the River Ryburn and the lower parts of Dixon Scar Woods.

Sowerby Bridge Station Subway. The tunnel now blocked used to run on into the original station building that was demolished c1980.


The Jubilee Refreshment Rooms housed in the former station ticket office. This is all that remains of the magnificent station building demolished c1980.

River Ryburn

River Ryburn towards Station Road Bridge.

River Calder from County Bridge.

Football pitch at Dixon Scar Woods.


The Final Stretch: Returning to the Canal

The final leg of the walk returned to the Rochdale Canal, starting near the remote and atmospheric Hollins Tunnel. The towpath here was quieter, covered in a blanket of damp leaves, with the dark, watery entrance of the tunnel beckoning .

I then walked along this quieter stretch, passing a moored narrowboat , with the dense woodland banks rising dramatically on the right.

The contrast between the industrial architecture and the natural landscape became more apparent as I reached the massive stone mill buildings that line the waterway . The walk concluded at Bridge 1A (Tower Hill) , another perfect archway framing the final view of the canal before heading back.

Hollins Tunnel.


Co-Op Bridge over the Rochdale Canal.


Bridge 1a Tower Hill.

This walk on a cold, grey day offered a unique perspective on Sowerby Bridge. The monochrome palette of the photographs—whether black-and-white or sepia—strips away the distraction of colour and forces you to appreciate the textures, the history, and the mood of the town’s incredible industrial waterways.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your support means a lot!


All the images remain the copyright of Colin Green.

Tuesday, 24 February 2026

The Salvage Archive: Rediscovering Derwentwater through 35mm Slides from October 1978

 There is a unique magic found in the click of a slide projector and the warm, slightly dusty scent of a halogen bulb heating up. For collectors of vintage photography, these small, plastic-framed windows are more than just images; they are tactile time machines.

I have spent years hunting through antique fairs, estate sales, and online auctions to build my collection of found 35mm slides. There is a profound sense of responsibility that comes with being the custodian of someone else's memories. Recently, I unearthed a particularly stunning set that transported me back to the English Lake District during a very specific moment in time: October 1978.

These four slides capture the moody, ethereal beauty of Derwentwater—the "Queen of the Lakes"—just as the 1970s were drawing to a close.




The Haunting Hues of a Cumbrian Autumn

The first thing that strikes you about these 1978 transparencies is the colour palette. Modern digital photography often feels "too sharp," lacking the organic grain and soft colour shifts of 35mm film. In these slides, the fells surrounding Keswick aren’t just green; they are a rich tapestry of russet, gold, and deep charcoal.

In the primary landscape shots, the iconic silhouette of Catbells and the surrounding Northwestern Fells dominate the horizon. The peaks are bathed in that soft, diffused October light that Lake District enthusiasts know so well. It’s a light that feels heavy with the coming winter, yet warm enough to set the autumn bracken ablaze with orange hues.

A Glimpse of the Keswick Launches

One of the most evocative images in this set shows the wooden jetties and the distinctive profile of a Keswick Launch. In 1978, these boats were already a historic staple of the lake, having ferried tourists since the Victorian era.

Looking at the slide, you can almost hear the gentle lap of the water against the timber piles and the distant call of a crow from the Friar’s Crag woods. The composition—framed by overhanging branches—is a classic example of 1970s amateur photography: thoughtful, unhurried, and deeply appreciative of the natural frame.


Why "Found" Photography Matters

You might wonder why a collector would seek out the holiday snaps of a stranger from nearly 50 years ago. The answer lies in the authenticity of the gaze.

In 1978, taking a photograph was an intentional act. You only had 24 or 36 exposures on a roll. You didn’t see the result until weeks later when the yellow Kodak box arrived in the mail. This meant that the photographer chose this specific October day at Derwentwater because something about the light, the stillness of the water, or the shape of the mountains felt worth "saving."

These slides capture a Lake District that feels remarkably similar to the one we see today, yet subtly different. The shoreline in the fourth slide reveals a few vintage cars parked on the grass—automotive silhouettes that firmly anchor the scene in the late 70s. It serves as a reminder that while the mountains are eternal, our presence among them is fleeting.


The Technical Charm of the 35mm Slide

From a technical standpoint, these slides have held up beautifully. The "sold 27-12" notation on the frames suggests these were perhaps part of a larger curated lot, sold during a winter long ago.

  • Grain and Texture: The film grain adds a layer of "atmosphere" that digital filters try (and often fail) to replicate.

  • Dynamic Range: Notice the way the shadows in the foreground trees remain deep and mysterious, while the sky retains a soft, milky texture.

  • Historical Record: Beyond the aesthetics, these slides serve as a geographical record of lake levels and woodland density in the late 20th century.


Preserving the Legacy of Derwentwater

Owning these slides feels like holding a secret. In October 1978, the person behind the lens stood on the shores of Derwentwater, perhaps wearing a heavy wool sweater and bell-bottom corduroys, marvelling at the same view that inspires us today.

By digitizing and sharing these images, we ensure that their "decisive moment" isn't lost to the back of a cupboard or a dusty attic. We are keeping the spirit of 1970s Cumbria alive, one slide at a time.

Whether you are a lover of the Lake District, a vintage film enthusiast, or someone who simply enjoys the nostalgia of a bygone era, these glimpses of Derwentwater remind us of the quiet beauty of the English landscape. They encourage us to slow down, look through the viewfinder, and appreciate the stillness of an autumn afternoon.

Please take a moment to share this post, follow me on social media, and explore my work on Clickasnap and Photo4Me using the links below. Your Support Means a lot!


The Salvage Archive: A Journey Back to Calgary Bay, Isle of Mull, 1966

 There is a unique magic hidden within the grain of a vintage 35mm slide. When the projector hums to life and that bright, dust-flecked beam...