“But, Nicola!” I hear you cry, “You’re such a natural filmmaker!”
I know. But hear me out. Obviously, David Attenborough used to regularly approach me to help him with his wildlife projects. Quite frankly, it was getting a little bit embarrassing for both of us. He would slide into my DMs, I’d turn him down, he’d get emotional. It was a whole thing.
But the other day, when I was cycling home from work I noticed a weirdly huge flock of seagulls pegging it out into Falmouth bay and I watched them as they went, because I am a negligent cyclist who does not look where she’s going when there are more interesting things going on. I saw a big group of swimmers moving quite close to the cliffs. I thought it was a bit weird because nobody really swims in mid-February, and those that do tend to stay near the shore. They also tend to be exceptionally hardy older ladies who go in wearing nothing but a normal swimming costume, and these swimmers seemed to be wearing wetsuits. They were doing a lot of splashing and moving incredibly fast.
Which is when I realised that the group of swimmers I was looking at was actually a pod of dolphins having a full-on, Blue Planet-level feeding frenzy. The sea looked like it was boiling, the seagulls were flapping around everywhere, and they’d also been joined by lots of gannets who, it turns out, are surprisingly graceful when they dive.
At this point I was still on my bike, so I dumped it and ran for the railings (Sidebar: you can do that hear. If I pulled that shit in London my bike would be gone before you could say ‘Honestly, how dumb are you?’). Behind me, people walked along the path seemingly oblivious to the future viral video footage unfolding below. Or maybe they’re just seasoned Cornish people who are able to maintain a modicum of chill around animals which show up all the time around the coast. Who’s to say?
I started filming, excited to finally have something the share on my Instagram story that wasn’t just another screenshot of a TV show on Netflix. I even developed an excellent technique whereby I could watch what was going on but also film at the same time. I call it ‘not looking at the camera’.
To cut a long story (belatedly) short, I saw a magical natural spectacle that would make anybody jealous, and I have somewhere in the region of forty videos of a completely different area of the ocean with absolutely nothing happening in it.
How come you don’t call me anymore, David?