The title plate: the coast that built ships, weathering into the sea. CR
Iron Shore
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The dock clock stopped at the hour the yard closed. CR
Last Shift
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Plate steel and bollards, everything oversized, nothing ornamental.
Steel Quay
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The quarter-mile wall of the ropery, straight as a laid line. CR
Ropery Wall
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
A hill made entirely of what ships threw away for coal. CR
Ballast Hill
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Dusk over the works, the sky the colour of poured slag. CR
Furnace Light
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The narrow channel into the old harbour, walls streaked with rust.
The Gut
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Mooring chains heavier than a man, each link worked by hand. CR
Chains
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The gates that ten thousand men walked through, shut for good. CR
Shipyard Gates
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The last headgear on the coast, kept as a monument to the seam. CR
Winding Gear
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
The same wall at high water, the sea testing every joint.
Breakwater Study II
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Concrete tetrapods stacked against the North Sea, brutal and exact. CR
Breakwater Study I
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Coal staithes rotting into the tide, timber gone to iron-grey. CR
The Staithes
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore
Where the old works met the sea, the shore still black with it. CR
Slag and Salt
Nell Armstrong / Iron Shore

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