| The very last cabin on the P&O night sailing from Portsmouth to Cherbourg on the 10th August was sold back in February. Sold to me. A 2-berth indoor cabin was how it was described, but in truth it was not much more than a cupboard amidships with two shelves and some sad looking thin duvets. Oh and a wash basin, but that was a mixed blessing as one person had to step outside the door before the other person could undress, wash and climb into bed. Yves Remedios drove us down to Portsmouth during the day, visiting the National Trust house at Uppark which had been rebuilt after a disastrous fire. We arrived in time to tuck the Mercedes (registration 4YR) in a shed pressed into service to supplement the long time car parking. The terminal was packed, partly because it was peak holiday time, partly because of the eclipse, and mainly because the ferry to Bilbao had been delayed by 5 hours. The camera equipment went into the left luggage room, which promptly closed afterwards to the consternation of a long line of people behind us. | |
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I cannot recommend Portsmouth as a place to while away a few hours during a summer evening. The centre is approached under a car park long since closed, brutally designed and nowadays not even worth vandalising. The shops down the soulless streets are barricaded with shutters, and the only place to eat in town seemed to be a couple of pubs selling pies and chips, the Burger King and a Pizza Hut. We looked for a charming Italian restaurant to no avail and ended up with a pizza. There was a long queue to get in, which says something about the choices of restaurant in Portsmouth. I cannot also recommend the forthcoming "Millennium Cruise" being offered by P&O down the Thames to Greenwich this December. They are using the "Pride of Bilbao". A 2-bed inside cabin goes for £765. I thought £30 quite enough. They made announcements into the early hours which drove away sleep, but we arrived in fairly good fettle into a wet and overcast Cherbourg at about 5 am BST. Yves meanwhile had found all the seats booked and slept on the floor. |
| The eclipse seemed to have taken Cherbourg by surprise. A bemused cafe proprietor looked amazed as more and more people turned up asking for breakfast. He could only offer croissants (no butter, no confiture, je suis desole monsieur...) and coffee. Even the croissants had to be fetched by his daughter from the bakery around the corner, and several trips were made as we sat on the pavement and looked sadly at the heavy clouds. Would it all be worth it? Would the crowds in Cornwall enjoy a clear blue sky? What were we doing here anyway, all for less than 2 minutes of totality? We popped greetings through our friends Patrice and Monique Neuveglises's letter box. They had gone away on holiday as usual during August, otherwise we should have enjoyed their legendary hospitality in a guest room overlooking the harbour, rather than the overnight ferry. Oh well. We moved to a charming floral garden near the port, in sight of countless yachts and an imposing statue. The camera was set up on a sturdy Benbo tripod. The skies cleared, and a test short was taken of the sun in a blue sky, through my Sigma 600mm mirror lens, capped with the home made Mylar filter. | 
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The eclipse was due to start at about 9.52 BST. The church clock struck 10.45 local time mournfully. A few people turned up, but not to see the eclipse. They were waiting for the school bus. Clouds rolled in. Heavy low clouds. Lighter high clouds. We saw nothing. Gloom descended, especially on Vicky who, being the world's great pessimist (in the hope she will be proved wrong and get a pleasant surprise, she says) forecast black clouds from wherever the weather seemed to be coming. After half an hour or so, we caught our first glimpse. No eye protection was required. The sun peeped through the high clouds in a gap. Off came the filter (never to be used again) and the first picture showed a morsel of sun bitten out of the top right hand side by the moon. Enough has been written about the sheer coincidence of the phenomenon of totality, which I shall not repeat here. The sight was marvellous, and there followed many sightings as the crescent of the sun moved inexorably down to a mere sliver. I got so excited, I opened the camera back of my Nikon F100 without rewinding the film. The result was only a dramatic red cast over 3 shots, as it turned out. |
| As totality approached at 11.17 BST, we lost sight of the sun. Darkness suddenly descended. By now the park was busy with people looking upwards. There were gasps of wonder and even applause. The dark fell from above us and all around. It was intense. Someone later described it as like a large bird closing its wings over you. Maybe that is so, but it certainly got dark quickly (almost as if a dimmer switch were turned down) and from all around rather than as it does at dusk. Whether the birds stopped singing or flowers closed, I cannot say, but as I looked through the lens, suddenly I saw the totality. No photograph can do justice to the moving image. I could see what looked like flames moving all around the black ball. It was awesome. Most of my photographs were jogged or had double images, but the Bailey's beads can clearly be seen. I was not aware of these at the time. All I could see was the movement. I looked round, and my wife's face was a picture. The sun disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. We only say totality for a few seconds. Maybe it was longer, but that was what it felt like to me. |  |
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The rest of the eclipse was almost unnoticed. We had seen it before, and wanted to share the experience with others. A policeman came over to compare notes with me. A student from Avignon showed me the film he had taken on his camcorder. He had travelled all night via the TGV via Paris to get there. A friend on Monique's wanted to know why I was not Catholic, and what about apostolic succession as the Anglican church did not recognise the Pope? My French creaked a little at this point. We headed off for a 2 hour lunch in a fish restaurant nearby, and talked about what we had seen, over a pleasant lunch. Even the sight of the lager brigade loading up with beer in le Continent did not dampen our spirits, but the heavy clouds and intermittent rain caused rejoicing that the weather had held off to well for as long as it took. On the jetfoil back to Portsmouth, the best reports came from those who had been in Le Havre. Some Irish people who had seen the eclipse from the Rosslare ferry off Alderney had also done well. The next eclipse crossed Africa in June 2001, lasting almost 5 minutes. Click here for my photographs of the best eclipse for a long time and other travel pictures from Madagascar. |
© 2000 Photographs by Vicky and
Robert Wright. Kensington London England.
Last updated: 23/11/05