Wylder Earth

Last Thursday, I treated myself to a double bill of marine themed films – David Attenborough’s new documentary, Ocean, followed by a celebration of engineless sailing, Wind, Tide and Oar. Both films celebrate our interconnectedness with nature – its power to restore us and our responsibility to regenerate it.

It’s hard not to feel a bit wistful watching Ocean with David Attenborough. The film was released to coincide with his 99th birthday. Here he is, as he says, near the end of his life – still fiercely intelligent, articulate and passionate about communicating the wonder of nature and the urgent need to protect it. My children sent him a birthday card for his 90th birthday. David Attenborough not only wrote back – but apologised that it had taken him so long to do so. He holds such a special place in so many people’s lives – I can only imagine how many thousands of birthday cards he must have received and to think he took the time to reply personally to every single one shows what a wonderful human being he is.

From kelp forests to coral reefs, Ocean tells the story of how our seas are the source of life for our planet – a space for countless species to live, a vital source of carbon capture, a living larder for humanity and a source of income for millions worldwide, as well as a place of freedom, fun and relaxation. Through first hand stories from coastal communities around the world, the film tells how industrial fishing is causing unseen destruction – obliterating entire ecosystems as the seabed is dredged, in a hugely wasteful process as most of the catch is returned to the ocean – dead.

But there are stories of hope too. Where oceans have been protected and left unfished, the marine habitats have quickly recovered, an abundance of life and beauty returning within years to areas that appeared dead and desolate. Fish stocks recover so quickly they literally overflow into the surrounding areas. It’s a clear reminder of the idea of reciprocity: when we give nature space to recover and thrive – we are rewarded. Our future is interdependent with the natural world.

“My lifetime has coincided with the great age of ocean discovery. This could be the moment of change. Nearly every country on Earth has just agreed, on paper, to achieve this bare minimum and protect a third of the ocean. Together, we now face the challenge of making it happen.”

David Attenborough

After a quick dash home for some food, next up on my marine double bill was – Wind, Tide and Oar.

This is a beautiful, slow, peaceful film shot on 16 mm over a four year period, following the stories of a range of boats and their human partners, some of which were filmed very close to my home here in Cornwall with its beautiful oak lined creeks.

The gentle pace of the filmmaking is the perfect echo of the patience of the sailors. It’s all about letting go. Not trying to control nature. Just going with the flow. The flow of the tide and the pace of the wind.

And if there is no wind, then you just have to wait. Have a cup of tea, tie some knots, do some sanding. You can’t override it. You can’t control it. You just have to surrender.

It’s a wonderful metaphor for our relationship with nature – a questioning of our perverse need to dominate, subjugate, control, and ultimately damage and destroy the natural world.

Without an engine to fall back on, these sailors have to be all the more aware of the wind and the tide. There is a beautiful description of becoming almost at one with nature, losing yourself in your senses and in the natural world. Not thinking but feeling. Not analysing. Not controlling. Just sensing. An intuitive process. Where you become part of something – something bigger than yourself. It’s an exercise in humility.

Find out more about each film and where to view them by visiting their official websites: Ocean with David Attenborough and Wind, Tide and Oar. If you are an educator or activist, you can organise a free screening of Ocean via the National Geographic website.

If you have seen either film or want to share your experiences of engineless sailing, I’d love to hear from you.