"Decades upon decades of engine noises, people shouting, metal clanging, fighting against the sound of the crashing waves and howling wind. Smoke, clouds, mist mixed with the smells of the sea, of burning coal, of people’s sweat.
Cohorts of men making a hard living stripping tin ore from 600 feet under the sea worked on the mine during its glory days. Then, men went, the engines stopped, the ocean claimed back the tunnels.
Gone are the glory days, all that is left is the echo of men’s sounds and machine noises, slowly silenced by the howling winds and the crashing waves."
