I initially tried this subject as an oil but I didn’t like it. But it worked perfectly as a pastel. It was a freezing cold morning, mine and my father’s faces ached as the fourty-plus-mph-wind hit it, then almost constantly the sea spray soaked us as we walked along the coastal path from the lower car park to Port Isaac. The waves were coming over the cliffs and sea foam formed like a snow drift on Port Gaverne beach.