THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT

Along most of Mauritania’s coast there was no break from the monotony of sand and sea, not a tree, hardly a point or spit of land, just a long slope surging with surf, the large Atlantic rollers breaking as suddenly as the chop of a meat cleaver when they hit the beach.  Far out to sea many small wooden fishing boats, with the small brown bodies of their crews frantically pulling in or letting out nets, appeared at the tops of waves, then disappeared behind the ranks of green swell as if they were in a shooting gallery.  Beyond the fishing boats the sky was stained yellow with Saharan dust.

Hudson/Mauritania