Naked as Nature Intended by Pamela Green
Author:Pamela Green [Green, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Photography
ISBN: 9780954598570
Publisher: Suffolk & Watt
Published: 2014-11-10T22:00:00+00:00
Left: George Harrison Marks at Bedruthan Steps.
Right: Petrina Forsyth and beach ball prop waiting for a light meter reading on a chilly Bedruthan beach.
Brason roused us the next morning, army fashion. âOut of bed, all of you, and be quick about it.â Standing there in his khaki jacket and cap, he bore a strong resemblance to Castro, which became his nickname for the rest of the film.
At Bedruthan Steps, the tide was out when we began the second dayâs shooting on the beach. This was to be a long sequence of me swimming nude in a rock pool. Roy filmed me while I swam slowly into camera, and around the pool. I had left my towel on the sand between the op and the sea. Doug taking pictures noticed that the beach was disappearing and the rocks were being covered by the apparently incoming tide. He alerted Brason, who had the tide table. He assured us that the tide was not due to turn for some hours yet.
Almost too late, I saw my towel disappearing as the tide started to come in. I looked anxiously at Roy. âKeep smiling as you swim into camera, look ha⦠âHe now suddenly noticed the water starting to swirl over his feet and around the legs of the tripod holding the Arriflex. âCUT. Run for it!â he screamed.
They struggled to get the equipment off the beach. The tide was racing in and we knew that it would completely cover the whole area right up to the cliff face and a good way up the steps. Soaked to the skin and exhausted, we finally reached the top. It was a close run thing. A severe storm in the Atlantic had turned the tide early than usual.
For me, one night at the hotel, unable to dry clothing, have a decent meal or have a bit of peace and quiet was enough. I moved out and stayed with Doug in an old pub in Padstow.
Brason decided that filming on the beach was much too dangerous. George found an alternative; the hotel had a swimming pool. The three of us, Bikini clad, could frolic in the pool, come out and sit on a swinging hammock, drinking lemonade. Stuart dressed up as an elderly waiter with a drinks tray would fall into the pool, then cut to the three of us laughing at him. We spent a day just doing that. Jackie was told, at one point, to jump into the pool. This she did, splashing around with considerable verve until Roy noticed bits of white cotton wool floating in the water around her and stopped filming. âWhat the hellâs that?â. It was Jackieâs bust, she had filled the cups with cotton wool, and it had floated out.
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