In this film, I wanted to personify the landscape of the chalky East Yorkshire Wolds where I grew up and evoke a sense of kinship with nature. The Capper Pass plant, owned by Rio Tinto, operated on the outskirts of Hull from 1967 until its decommissioning in 1991. Despite being devastated by this toxic tin smelting works, the surrounding environment and its inhabitants continued to endure—though tragically, many did not survive.
The plant was infamous for its hazardous working conditions, environmental impact, and the widespread contamination it caused. A study later revealed that workers at Capper Pass faced significantly elevated risks of lung cancer, with the cancer death toll nearly 50% higher than expected. Toxic, carcinogenic, and radioactive by-products, including the highly dangerous Polonium-210, were released into the River Humber and the East Yorkshire air. As early as the 1970s, lead and arsenic were detected in cattle grazing near the plant, forcing livestock and crops on several farms to be condemned.
Public awareness of the full extent of the contamination was deliberately suppressed, as it was feared that the facts would provoke alarm. Over 600 former employees and local residents later reported serious illnesses, including cancer and leukaemia, believed to be linked to the plant’s emissions. Despite its closure, the legacy of Capper Pass remains a sobering reminder of the catastrophic consequences of industrial pollution.
And yet, even in the shadow of such devastation, there is hope. Over the decades, nature has shown remarkable resilience. The land has begun to heal itself, with wildflowers blooming in the chalky soil and wildlife reclaiming habitats once thought lost. Local communities, too, have risen from adversity with a renewed commitment to protecting their environment, demonstrating that renewal and regeneration are always possible when people and nature work together.
