Boyan Slat Quotes

I grew up sailing in the North Sea.

Can we build a system which is able to survive on the ocean for years? That is the key question we are trying to answer here with the North Sea prototype.

The North Sea was supposed to run out in the 1980s. Then in the 1990s. And now production is still on-line.

My feet always danced to Irish traditional music, but I was very glad to get out of the North of Ireland in the mid-Seventies when it was really closed and tight and relentlessly unforgiving.

No aquarium, no tank in a marine land, however spacious it may be, can begin to duplicate the conditions of the sea. And no dolphin who inhabits one of those aquariums or one of those marine lands can be considered normal.

The most ordinary conditions for observing sailing birds are then the wind and sea are both aft.

Flying into a storm, even its outer edges, did not seem like a good idea to me. And this was no ordinary tempest. Everyone on the bridge knew what it was: the Devil's Fist, a near-eternal typhoon that migrated about the North Indian basin year-round. She was infamous, and earned her name by striking airships out of the sky.

I grew up near the sea in British Columbia and San Francisco, and lived in Malibu and Fiji for years. I get uncomfortable being too far inland.

There's definitely healing properties to being in proximity to the ocean and that breeze. There's something about that Caribbean climate and humidity.

L.A. is fun, but it feels like one of those towns in the north of Scotland where there's an oil rig just off the coast and whether or not you work for the oil rig, everyone is connected to it.

In L.A., it's very hard to have some kind of conscience of some style out there. The weather's too hot; there's no seasons.

For all that has been said of the love that certain natures (on shore) have professed for it, for all the celebrations it has been the object of in prose and song, the sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness.

The fleet sailed to its war base in the North Sea, headed not so much for some rendezvous with glory as for rendezvous with discretion.

In my judgment, if we had pursued this course, the zones would have been of short duration. England would have been compelled to take her mines out of the North Sea in order to get any supplies from our country.

There are any number of reasons for visiting Filey. The beach is clean, long, and rarely crowded. The countryside is bold and handsome, with one maritime feature that deserves to be better known: the long, thin rock finger of the Brigg, pointing into the chilly grey waters of the North Sea.

I always thought the desert was the antithesis of peace - something that attacks you. So you don't go to the desert for peace.

The oil and gas sector in the North Sea does have a strong future if we do the right things now, but we've got to make sure that the infrastructure is right to support the sector, but also to support, over the next few years, diversification as well.

We were working under very harsh conditions on 'Zero Kelvin.' We were up there in the Arctic, closer to the North Pole than to a hospital. Sometimes you had to sleep in small Arctic tents with guns to protect yourself from polar bears and stuff.

Singing in the jungle was very hot and very sticky, which was a bit hard going. I had a little piano, which they trudged around on the back of a lorry, hoping it would survive the journeys.

Really, the ocean itself - that's really the thing that we're up against, the most destructive environment on the planet.

The sky was different, without color, taut and unforgiving. But the water was the most unforgiving thing, nearly black at times, cold enough, I knew, to kill me, violent enough to break me apart. The waves were immense, battering rocky beaches without sand. The farther I went, the more desolate it became, more than any place I'd been, but for this very reason the landscape drew me, claimed me as nothing had in a long time.

He was sailing over a boundless expanse of sea, with a blood-red sky above, and the angry waters, lashed into fury beneath, boiling and eddying up, on every side. There was another vessel before them, toiling and labouring in the howling storm: her canvas fluttering in ribbons from the mast.

There's a strange sense of pleasure being beat to hell by a storm when you're on a ship that is not going to sink.

When you're on the open sea and you drop 10, 12 feet and your stomach goes up around your neck - that's when you have problems.

Ocean into tempest wrought, To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.