Hengistbury Head on a Stormy Weekend

All night long, the wind and rain battered the walls and roof of our home. Like the pig who made his house from straw, I questioned the wisdom of buying a new-build home likely constructed by builders who’d pitched the lowest quote. However, we survived unscathed and barring some leaves and detritus in the garden, the house was fine.

However, when the winds start to blow I feel a desire to visit the sea and witness the waves pounding the shore. They always remind me of the raw power of nature, and how perilous things can be when the weather takes a turn for the dramatic. The Pollards bundled into the Dacia, and drove southwards.

The coast is about 40 minutes from where we live, give or take, and I was still deciding which stretch of the coastline to visit even at the half-way point. We finalised on Hengistbury Head, though Mudeford was a close second. We surmised that Hengistbury would provide the highest likelihood of big waves and a circuitous walk.

We found a parking space in the vast carpark at Hengistbury, and coughed up the extortionate £8 they wanted for three hours parking.

Loud, relentless, angry: the waves were fantastic the moment we laid eyes on them.

We decided, whilst the weather was fine, to walk anti-clockwise around the headland, starting out by walking the vast stony beach and returning via the climb to the top of the high viewpoint overhead.

I had decided to take my Fujifilm XH2 because I had recently purchased a Fujifilm 33mm f/1.4 – Thanks Mark!

I did, however, stick a mist-filter on the lens for this trip – I wanted to soften the image slightly and bloom the light that would catch on the breaking waves.

When one looks out southwards from Hengistbury Head, The Needles are easily within viewing distance – jutting out as they do from the Isle of Wight. It’s easy to think you’re looking across a bay, but of course the Solent separates the island from the mainland, with its treacherous tides concealed today beneath the wild waters whipped up by the storm.

We spent much of the first half of our walk ignoring this fantastic view however – choosing instead to look at the ground before us, endeavouring to find interesting shells for the children to collect.

I would stop intermittently to photograph the waves crashing against the groynes, or to take photos of the children mid-hijinx.

The Fujifilm Fujinon 33mm f/1.4 WR LM R (to use its ridiculous full moniker), is a wonderful piece of glass – which is good, as I had to sell my beloved Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 S to afford it. I wanted a modern prime to test on the XH2 to see what the autofocus could really do – it turns out that when it has a modern lens on, the autofocus is really not bad. It’s a bit jittery for video, but it handled all my stills needs without fuss.

I caught up with my family after lagging behind to photograph some marram grass blowing in the wind, and then we climbed the headland – doubling back in the direction we had come, looking back down on the beach below where we had just been.

Hengistbury Head is a favourite of dog-walkers, so it was busy on the day in question – full of people who, like ourselves, wanted to blow the cobwebs away, whilst also being full to the brim with people who were doing their best to tire out their pets.

The children were flagging by this point – we have long since stopped using a pushchair for our youngest, so they faced the option of powering on and getting back to the car, or giving up and living permanently on the windy hilltop. The choice was clear: they would go with option three, moan and ask to be carried, (whilst still walking onwards sullenly).

Nearly 2 hours since we started, we made our way back to within earshot of the barking dogs that seem to perpetually sit outside the cafe by the carpark. Said dogs being constantly harassed, most likely causing the barking, by swarms of starlings.

We took a seat on a bench, enjoyed a hot drink, and then loaded ourselves back into the Dacia – ready to start the rest of the day.