A FREEZING wind whips across the car park at Hest Bank, bringing with it icy rain and an eerie, confusing mist.

The time is rapidly approaching 4am and a deep darkness engulfs Morecambe Bay - it is anything but beautiful.

It is February 5 - 12 months to the day since the desperate screams of 23 drowning cockle pickers echoed out in a final plea for salvation.

Yet a team of workers are out there, harvesting a valuable crop of cockles at the dead of night.

It has been a year of fine words since the events that saw the world's attention focused on the shifting sands of the Bay.

A totally ineffective permit scheme has been introduced and Government agencies have issued health and safety advice to cockle pickers.

But the facts speak for themselves - people are still out there in the dark risking their lives in pursuit of a quick buck.

The Citizen is assured by a local fisherman that this scene is not a one-off. But, in fact, people are out there every night of the year, whatever the weather, raping the cockle beds.

Far from being a safer place because of the tragedy of 23 wasted lives, Morecambe Bay is more dangerous now... more dangerous simply because the world-wide publicity has highlighted the profits to be made and attracted more people to give it a go.

It's time to cut out the fine words and see some action. If not, it WILL happen again.