Moonlit Wanderings at Holywell Bay

There are evenings when you step outside, take one breath of cold night air, and suddenly find yourself driving to the coast with absolutely no plan whatsoever.

This was one of those nights.

I arrived at Holywell Bay with nothing but a vague idea, a backpack full of kit I probably didn’t need, and that familiar itch to see what the world looks like under moonlight.
Those of you who’ve followed me for a while will know this beach means something to me.

My very first vlog began here in 2023.
And somehow, all this time later, here I was again — returning on a whim, chasing an idea that wasn’t fully formed.

But that’s the joy of it, isn’t it?
Half the adventure is not knowing what you’re doing until you’re already doing it.

🌊 The Plan That Wasn’t Really a Plan

The tide was rolling out, low tide due around half nine, and the moon had just pushed its way above the horizon. Perfect, I thought. Or at least, perfect enough.

My mission was simple in theory:
walk across the beach, find the sea cave, and shoot Carter’s Rocks framed in its entrance by moonlight.

Not the hidden Holywell cave — that one’s for another day — but the open-mouthed sea cave looking straight out to the twins.

I hoped the afternoon tide might’ve washed away the scar of footprints you usually get here.
It hadn’t, not entirely, but enough that I only needed to remove my own tracks before shooting.
A small mercy.

The evening was surprisingly mild for early December.
Base layers, hat, gloves — and still I was in danger of overheating.
One of the joys of winter photography: dress for the Arctic, sweat like you’re on safari.

🌑 Inside the Cave

I found the cave easily enough, but stepping inside…
that’s where the mood shifted.

The sea was roaring somewhere beyond the darkness — not just loud, but alive, echoing through the rock like distant thunder.
Water dripped from the back of the cave, the kind of slow, rhythmic tapping that makes you constantly look over your shoulder.

It was eerie.
Beautiful, but eerie.

The moon ducked behind cloud just as I arrived, leaving me with nothing but the glow of my headlamp and the hope that the sky might clear again.
I set up the EOS R for stills while listening to the surf hammer the shore outside.

Textures on the cave walls caught tiny glimmers of my torch: clay-coloured streaks, sea-carved scars, and an entrance shaped perfectly to frame the seascape beyond.

This place has stories. You can feel them in the air.

📸 Shooting the Still Images

Moonlight photography is a delicate dance — bright enough to expose easily, dark enough to fool your eyes.

A typical shot here needed around 8 seconds at ISO 800, f/2.8.
But to bring out detail in the cave walls, I bracketed exposures:
8 seconds… 30 seconds… layering the bright moonlit foreground and the darker interior.

I don’t bracket often, but sometimes the landscape demands it.
I wanted to honour the shadows and the textures — the way the moonlight kissed the sand and rock.

Carters Rocks framed in the mouth of the cave.

🌌 Timelapse — First Attempt, Be Gentle Please

Once the stills were in the bag, it was time for the part I was both excited and terrified about.

A moonlit timelapse using a “proper” camera.
Not the Action 5.
Not the Pocket 3.
The Canon.

I’d done my research. I had a cheat sheet on my phone.
But theory and practice are two very different beasts, especially in the dark.

The back screen went blank.
A tiny red light blinked occasionally.
Was it working?
Possibly.

Was I confident?
Not even slightly.

But that’s the thing about timelapses — sometimes you just have to trust the process and hope the universe is in a cooperative mood.

Whatever the result, I promised myself I’d share it.
Success or abject failure.
Because if we don’t show the messy bits, the learning curves, the missteps…
then what’s the point?

Was the Timelapse a success…..you’ll have to watch the video to find out!!

⭐ Wandering Under the Moon

While the timelapse clicked away in the cave, I wandered across the moonlit beach.

It was stunning.
The kind of night that reminds you why you put up with cold fingers, heavy bags, and damp tripod legs.

Above the dunes Jupiter and Orion began to rise — Orion is my favourite constellation, it’s always a thrill to see it returning for the winter.
Cloud rolled in and out, never quite deciding what it wanted to do.

It’s amazing just how different this familiar landscape becomes under moonlight.
Soft, reflective, mysterious.

Moonlit photography is a challenge…
but one I adore.

Orion rising over the cliffs at Holywell Bay.

Carters Rocks and moonlight reflections.

Jupiter over the dunes.

🔚 The Walk Back

Eventually, cloud claimed the sky and I made my way back to the car, still unsure if the timelapse had worked at all.

By the time you watch the video, you’ll know before I do.
Funny how that works.

But whether this is my final video of the year or just the last spontaneous adventure before Christmas, it feels strangely fitting to end 2025 where I first began — at Holywell Bay.

If you enjoyed this little wander with me, thank you.
Please do follow along on Facebook, Instagram, X, and YouTube.

Your support keeps me warm on nights like this — well… that and thermal leggings.

Until next time.
Clear skies, moonlit beaches, and a camera bag that never quite zips up properly.
— Marcus