An Accidental Sea
At Bombay Beach, Salton Sea 2024
It's warm. The sun casts short, deep shadows in the crisp sand and a thick white foam is gathering on the beach.
Looking out across the water, I expect to see movement, a blip or a shimmer as fish swim and jump, or small waves lapping the shoreline or the wind rippling the surface out towards the horizon.
Yet, there is nothing — only the quiet, the stillness and a sense that this place was never meant to be.
I find a photo on my phone I took on a previous trip to Palm Springs. A picture I took of an information board describing an accidental sea:
“A raging Colorado River changed its course and created today’s Salton Sea.
In the spring of 1905, the Colorado River, swollen by heavy rainfall and snowmelt, surged into an irrigation canal east of where you are standing.
The great “Red Bull,” as settlers called the river, overflowed the canal’s banks and spilled into the Salton Sink, a desert basin that is about 278 feet below sea level.
The flooding continued for two years. It challenged the minds of engineers, railroad barons, and President Theodore Roosevelt. In the end, it was the labor of settlers and Indigenous peoples from southern California, Arizona, and Mexico that finally contained the Colorado’s unchecked flow. By then a shallow lake stretched 35 miles across the desert floor.”
The Colorado River Flood 1906, Salton Sea History Museum
Two years later, here we are at Bombay Beach, a town that 50 years ago was a bustling, hip, fashionable resort where high profile celebrities like Sonny Bono and The Beach Boys would come and spend time water skiing or swimming or golfing. The only thing swimming in these waters now is a tilapia that happens to have a tolerance to very high saline water.
I rummage in my bag and realise I've forgotten my light meter. The camera I have with me, a Mamiya 7ii, has a light meter but this is difficult light; high midday sun creates high contrast. Anything I photograph against this light will be thrown into deep shadow.
As well as the look of the light, it feels different. Strange. I feel I can almost touch it. It's as if I'm standing at the bottom of a large bowl with warm air and light gathering around me. If I stay too long I might pass out.
I have four rolls of black and white film. I remember the advice: give film lots of light. So I photograph as fast as I can, changing rolls of film whilst trying not to drop anything on the sand. I add one or two stops of exposure, making notes on my phone along the way, knowing that I always think I will remember what I did and knowing that I most definitely won't.
We're here because I want to be here. For my husband, this place is creepy. I don't know what it is about photographers that means we're often drawn to places of desolation and abandonment; to places where you feel you shouldn't be. I want to wander the abandoned town but there are people here. Parked in front of dilapidated houses are new cars, cars that have pulled up maybe an hour ago. I feel watched.
On the beach, as I photograph the artworks spreading along the shore, a four-wheel buggy roars towards us. As it passes, the young driver stares as if we've landed from another world. Look up Bombay Beach and it is often described as apocalyptic. I'm beginning to understand why.
It takes me a few weeks to get around to processing my rolls of film. I probably could have given them some more time in the developer but generally I'm pleased with the results. Some light editing in Photoshop will enhance the detail and beautiful grey tones. Here’s a selection that I think are the best although honestly I’ve had to hold myself back from just posting them all.
Looking at them, I want to go back. I wonder if my husband will come with me?
All photos by Tanya Clarke 2024
