Ebbe und Flut - Das Salz der Erde

Harvesting the Gros Sel

One would never expect people living from salt farming in these parts of Europe, where the weather is so inconsistent and it rains so much. Salt farming in the salt marshes of the Guérande, in the south eastern part of Bretagne, goes back to the 9th century. Guérande or "Gwenn Rann" in Breton means "White Land". It covers an area of 1700 hectares with thousands of small shallow pools separated by low dikes. The saline workers or salt farmers here are called "Paludiers". 

Every two weeks at a high flood the sea water is held back in special pools. Over several concentrating stages it is let down into smaller and shallower basins where the constant wind evaporates the water and concentrates the salt. The last stage are the harvesting pools. Here under perfect conditions with strong easterly winds and blazing sunshine during the summer months the most delicate crystals are formed that float on the surface and are harvested by hand: the Fleur de Sel. 

To the photographer this land is fascinating with the shallow water pools reflecting the colour of the sky, the tiny salt-loving halophytic plants in contrasting red colour, and the irregular shapes of the dikes. It looks like rice paddies without the rice! And without the heat and humidity and the long-distance travel, that we have to endure to get to these rice-growing parts of the world.... 
The best photographic opportunities were in the village of Saillé, with a small museum, the Maison du Paludiers, and a very friendly shop. Taking a stroll all around the small village and along the salt paddies, careful not to step onto the slippery dikes, I took many pictures.

Saillé

 Salt from the Guérande in our kitchen

Ebbe und Flut - Austern

Ebb and flood,  low tide and high tide, form the basis for all living things in Bretagne.

Two characteristic industries make use of this phenomenon: the oyster farmers and the salt farmers. 

This is about the oysters, these little glibbery molluscs that taste surprisingly well, once you have overcome a natural aversion of eating something alive and so ugly. And they will die a cozy death in the warm wet mucous comfort of a human mouth, won't they?  There should be a poem about the oyster: cool and smooth, soft, a fine and subtly sweet taste, slightly salty, a reminiscence of grapefruit and cucumber, with a gelatine-like consistency. I can understand their reputation for supporting male Casanovas but I feel they might be equally potent for women ... 

Creuses, the Pacific Oysters. 
Plates, their European sisters, taste even better, they are the rarest and best.

Oysters are raised in bags laid out on oyster tables in the tidal zone.

Work hours depend on the tide time table. Bags need regular turning to loosen the oysters because oysters tend to cling and grow together. 

Farming the ocean floor

It is hard to believe looking at their living conditions in the brackish mud, but oysters from the Belon river taste the best. 

The bay of Cancale has several hectars with oyster farming that are only visible for a few hours during low tide. 

Coming home.

They are sorted according to size. 

Before being shipped or sold on the market, oysters have a resting period in clean sea water to bring out their natural flavours.

Hand to mouth

Locals harvest "escaped" oysters during low tide.

Enjoy!

Ebbe und Flut

The German words Ebbe und Flut have a much more emotional connotation than the more technical English "low tide and high tide". Ebb and flood - Ebbe und Flut - you can hear the water coming and going in the rhythm of the words. Ebbe might mean anything, from low tide to nothing happening (between two people)  to being broke -
and Flut is the antithesis: a flood of emotions, a torrent of things, something uncontrollable, overwhelming and sometimes dangerous.

Nothing much in the picture, no foreground, no background, just water and sky and a line separating it. 

The first days of creation before God separated land and water.... 
But I hate pompousness and abhor clichés - so you can see two sea gulls on the water, that I left in the first picture, possibly having escaped from Noah's ark enjoying the first sunrays ...

Gravitational forces of moon and sun cause this effect that constantly moves trillions of tons of water on the surface of the oceans. In Europe it can best be observed on the coast of northern Bretagne, which has one of the highest tidal ranges worldwide with a difference of up to 13 m from low to high tide due to the layout of the land. Kilometers of land are laid bare during low tide and disappear under the ocean six and a half hours later only to reappear after a further six and a half hours in an endless ever fascinating cycle of power and retreat, covering up and laying bare, flooding and grounding.

I had been in Brittany over thirty years ago on an excursion to collect red algae. At university, during a moment when a severe bout of Wanderlust virus had hit me, I had chosen a course on algae systematics which came with an trip to the marine station at Roscoff in Brittany to collect and classify red algae. 

Rhodophyta

There is beauty in the tiniest and lowliest of living beings. 

The city of St. Malo at low tide.

Its medieval walls are protected by wooden storm breakers that look like sculptures emaciated from the regular onslaught of salt water. 

A tidal pool. During low tide you can have a safe swim in fresh and cold sea water or take a quick walk across the rocks to an old fort. You have to know about the tides though - otherwise you might involuntarily be stuck on a cold and windy tiny island for 12 hours... 

The tide is coming in. 

These are not the tips of the Himalaya mountains covered in snow up to their necks during some millenia long ice age but a long exposure of the incoming flood, circling the rocks on the beach until they disappear under the water for six hours before they are set free again. 

High tide in the bay of Cancale with Mont Saint Michel in the background.

It is always recommended to be well anchored when the tide comes in.