Somewhere
in Monterey

There is no moon, and we see a flash of sun-bright blue sky behind dark tempestuous clouds. Nonetheless, this feels like a nocturne. We are moving into darkness, atmospherically and thematically.

 

Tavernier’s portrayal feels as gritty, as foreboding, as moody as a dark painting can be. The gaping, jagged sea-cliff jaws hunger to grasp, and crush, and macerate the hull of yet another dying ship waiting to be wind-pushed into its craggy maw. 

 

We sense the forlorn sailor-souls haunting the ragged rockscape. Is this the dark place of their Purgatory?