To the north stands the red and white striped light on the jetty at Amble. The cold wind blowing off the sea hurls waves inland. Funnelled between the South Jetty and the rocks of Pan Point, the sea roils and crashes, criss-crossing and colliding upon itself, shattering in plumes of spray, throwing fans of froth over the flat rocks, generating momentary waterfalls as the water cascades back from higher ledges, and drenching walkers on the jetty as fountains follow them along the pier.

Fractured and broken concrete steps merge into the rock surface – the sandstone cracked and rounded by the years into limb-like shapes, thighs, bellies and shoulders, solid yet soft, ancient but yielding to the ceaselessly pounding sea. Beyond the tumult, a solitary sailing boat leaning far over tacks into the harbour, sweeping between the North and South piers into calm and safety.