A week in a wet seat

The beach is strewn with the litter of journalism. Notebooks, slates, cameras, batteries and underwater housings are spread out before a couple of PVC kayaks that look for all the world like they should be three times bigger to accommodate the mess. Camping paraphernalia is dumped unceremoniously into black rubbish sacks, and food – the freeze-dried, just-add-water, poly-unsaturated variety – forms an untidy queue that leads all the way back to the car. Chargers are twinkling overtime to squeeze another few minutes of precious energy into the lithium batteries I forgot to charge last night.


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