Rescue me...

Over the next two days Boscombe Beach, Dorset, is hosting an event where an international line-up of lifesavers will compete head to head with each other, testing their skills as volunteer lifeguards. The event is organised by  Surf Line Saving GB, and coincides with the ending of RNLI beach lifeguard cover during the week for the season in the south west. Weekend cover will be maintained until early November on the regions 12 busiest beaches.

Not really knowing what to expect (other than people doing their stuff in water) I arrive shortly after mid-day, and find events in full swing, with crews jumping into inflatable boats and dashing out to sea and back. I won't pretend to understand what exactly is going on, but I soon see the possibilities of getting an action shot or two (right). It would have helped if the sea was less flat, but the occasional light wave did get the odd crew airborne soon after they launched. All this took place on the eastern side of the pier, while the rowing events took place on the western side.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor (VR off). 1/2500 second at f/4. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

Launch...

It is approaching late afternoon, and I am ambling along the surf line of the beach near Boscombe, Dorset, taking photographs and wondering why the sands have been raked smooth. This usually happens early in the morning during the holiday season, so as to prepare the area for a day of leisure (or sport), but the tourists and day trippers departed some weeks ago.

I make a number of photographs using the furrows created by the tractor-drawn rakes as lead-in lines to the local pier head, but I am suddenly aware of several inflatable lifeboats being launched into the sea, and then bouncing around in the autumn surf. The area comes under the watchful eye(s) of the RNLI during the summer months due to the area's popularity with surfers, but I have never known rescue boats to be stationed anywhere along the coast of Poole Bay.

It turns out that this coming weekend athletes will come from all over Europe to compete in lifesaving watersports, that will test the skills used by volunteer lifeguards. There will also be competing teams of Inshore Rescue Boats, from New Zealand, Denmark, Germany and Poland. Presumably my image captures one such team putting in a sneaky spot of pre-match practice (or "testing" as they might describe it). Tomorrow's weather forecast is very good, so I may well amble back for some shots of the action.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens. 1/6400 second at f/5.6. ISO 400


© 2012

Not what I expected...

I must be getting forgetful. I knew of the schedule last week - prompted at the time by the unexpected appearance in Poole Bay, Dorset - of PS Waverley; I even checked the weather forecast (which seemed favourable) to make sure of sailing days to and from the area...

Yet this morning I am caught totally by surprise by the aforementioned sea-going paddle steamer, sailing East to rendezvous with passengers waiting to be picked up from Bournemouth Pier. It had completely slipped my mind.

I'm rambling along the beach when all this starts to happen, and I know I haven't a hope of making on foot to the pier before it docks. It's damage limitation time if I want any worthwhile shots, as I am only carrying a standard zoom lens, so I need to react quickly.

I had been shooting sunlight patterns cast upon the sea earlier, but had no suitable focal point for the picture, so I decide my best bet is to get up high again on the cliff top and repeat as necessary. The broken cloud is still casting shadows onto the sea, but ideally I need the ship to be in a pool of light before it passes my viewpoint and again becomes too small in the frame. I get what I am after, and try and cram as much of the scene into the frame as possible, despite shooting at the lenses longest focal length.

I wonder if the ship is sailing again tomorrow...


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/11. - 0333 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Cloud...

The low pressure system that brought so much rain and flooding over the weekend has long since moved north (on a meteorological time scale), and left us with some unsettled weather in the southern counties of the UK. This is, to me, good news, as the elements work once again in my favour, with periods of blue sky and sunshine, followed by dramatic cloud formations and rain.

Cloud formations make good subjects in their own right, and there are pages to be found on the World Wide Web dedicated to the photography such images, or simply for others to appreciate (there is the Cloud Appreciation Society on Facebook - should you use such social networking sites, for example). Cloud can also make or break a land or seascape photograph, as there is nothing worse than a bland, blue, featureless sky. Such images may be ideal for travel brochures, luring the unsuspecting to warmer climes, but in my opinion you can't beat a bit of drama in the heavens.

There was a bit of blue sky at the top of the image here, but I cropped it off (never be afraid to crop) so as to give the picture to suggest a claustrophobic feeling; of being overwhelmed by the advancing weather front.

24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Blowy...

After yesterday's dismal weather we are enjoying a moment of respite in the southern part of the UK, but I am assured it is temporary by the man on the TV. Today, we have clear skies and autumn sunshine, but the wind has remained. In fact, if anything, it has got stronger.

A swift look at the Met Office's weather map during the morning tells me that the 21mph (34km/h) Westerly winds along the English Channel are gusting up to 49mph (79km/h): every indication that there may be some sort or water sport activity in Poole Bay, Dorset. I pack a super-telephoto lens and set off for the coast.

There are two wind surfers darting about, propelled by the stiff winds, when I arrive at Boscombe Pier, so I make for the end of it so as to get nearer the action. This move is effective, but unfortunately the gusting wind is so strong it is impossible to get sharp images - even with very fast shutter speeds - as the camera (and myself) is getting blown about. I am forced to resort to bracing the camera against a lighting pole to steady everything. This technique produces the desired results, but I'm not happy with the angles.

I move down to the waterline and start again, battling against wind-blown sand, and trying to stand still long enough to shoot. The wind is not so strong here, but I am shooting with my fastest shutter speed to make sure something is sharp (why, oh why, didn't I bring my monopod?). I'm aiming to photograph the windsurfers set against the sunlight reflected from the waves, for a high-key effect, and several oblige by coming close enough to the shore to get one or two worthwhile images.


300mm f/4D AF-S Nikkor. 1/8000 second at f/4. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 500


© 2012

It's winter...

I find myself increasingly attracted to taking photographs in adverse conditions. I actually enjoy fighting the elements to get pictures, however much it is fraught with difficulties. One thing is for certain, I get shots a lot of the more casual snappers would never get, since they either pack up and go home when the weather deteriorates, or don't venture out in the first place. Me? I'm packing my bag and looking forward to just how bad it can get. This is all within reason, of course, and never take any unnecessary risks just to get an image, but a touch of gale force wind, or lashing rain can work wonders for a bit of inspiration.

I overhear a conversation next to Boscombe Pier, Dorset, between two surfers preparing themselves before entering the water: "It's winter!", exclaims one to the other. Whilst a little premature with his observation, the conditions we are subjecting ourselves to wouldn't be out of place in mid-January. At least it isn't cold.

I take a few snaps that I know will never again see the light of day and decide to move on. By mid afternoon I am walking the seafront, and for a good while I am the only living thing visible in either direction, as far as the eye can penetrate through the rain and gloom. Ideal photographic weather, as far as I am concerned. I am trying to get images of breaking waves, but the sea is not rough enough for any degree of drama, so I settle on including large portions of the brooding sky, such as here, with an RNLI lifeguard station on the deserted beach acting as a focal point. 

24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/8. ISO 640

© 2012

57 minutes of autumn...

It's autumn: ever since 14.49 this afternoon. Well, that is the time the sun appeared directly over the Equator in the Northern Hemisphere, today. From that moment on we have more darkness than light during the day for the next six months. Whilst this can be less than welcome for most people, it is a boon to my photography. For one thing, I don't have to up early or out late to get good light, and another is that there is visible change in the season and I can shoot at any time of the day.

Fired up by this knowledge (a bit prematurely, as it is still far too early to see any real difference), I am out for a walk with my camera, looking for something to inspire me. But as I said, no real distinction as yet, and in the end I only take seven photographs - five of which are very similar to the one here.

I'm going through a minimalistic phase, it seems, but quite why I have no idea. I do like images that have very little information as much as those that can be a veritable riot of detail and colour, but for now, the less the better. Maybe I'm doing it subconsciously, so I can refer to later phases of my work as post-minimalist. I'm sure all artists and creative people benefit from such catergorisation when their work becomes evaluated at some point. It lends a certain gravitas to it all. Who am I to argue?

Anyway, one of the seven photos taken this afternoon: A cloud over the Isle of Purbeck, Dorset... some 57 minutes after summer came to an end.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/6400 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

In my favour...

As far as I am concerned, today is the last day of summer in the Northern Hemisphere; well, tomorrow is the autumn equinox, and traditionally the start of said season, so we must still be in summer. Whatever the thinking behind it all, it is a  day of brightness and grey, with a watery sun peering through the cloud blanket over the lower part of the UK. It is also windless.

It is one of those days that produces good light and leaden skies, and it is working in my favour. I am walking the beaches of Poole Bay, Dorset, by mid-afternoon; a macro lens on my camera, and looking for small subjects and detail to make photographs of. After an hour or so of wandering I decide to sit on a seafront bench and photograph whatever passes by, and it's a small yacht on the horizon that eventually becomes the subject of today's post.

The fact that I am using a lens designed to give its best performance when used in close in neither here nor there - it can still be pressed into use as a short telephoto for general shooting. I often use lenses that are designed for one application as something else: an ultra-wide for portraits, or a super-telephoto for landscapes (or even panoramas stitched-together in Photoshop), for example. No hard and fast rules.

There is a minimalistic feel to the picture - I always shoot such scenes when I come across them - and I use the different tone bands of the sea and distant clouds as part of the composition. The yacht is merely the focal point: very small in the frame, but once the eye sees the boat it is drawn to it time and time again.


105mm f/2.8D EX Sigma macro lens. 1/800 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Intimate seascapes...

During the summer months - and particularly during the holiday season of a seaside town - it is next to impossible to get shots like this. There is far too much human traffic on the sands of Poole Bay, Dorset, to allow time for wind-blown sand to make interesting patterns, even if I did shoot at either end of the day. The fact that these beaches are now largely deserted is a boon from my point of view.

A medium focal length macro lens is a useful asset for such photography, as I can fill the frame with small subjects but still keep a respectful distance (read: not grovelling around on my knees), or grovelling around on my knees (as I did for this shot) to get in close and exclude unwanted elements. It also still pleasantly warm, making the photography a relaxing and therapeutic exercise.

Such photography has been described as the 'intimate landscape', where instead of trying to fill the frame with as much information as possible with a wide angle lens, the idea is to isolate small features within the vista presented by nature, more often than not overlooked by the vast majority of people (and photographers).

With today's photograph I'm taken by the weathered feather and the undulations of the sand thrown into relief by the late afternoon sun, and although there are hundreds of such little still life shots in situ to be had, each one is unique, and therefore worth capturing.


105mm f/2.8D EX Macro Sigma lens. 1/320 second at f/11. ISO 320


© 2012

Almost there...

There are spring tides this week in Poole Bay, Dorset, and I'm out with my camera during late afternoon, looking for shots when they are at their lowest. It is something of a favourite subject of mine, as the retreating sea leaves behind pristine sand, and the opportunity to photograph all sorts of textures, objects, and reflections in tide pools. I have to time my arrival well as the smooth areas of the exposed shore can soon be marred by others walking the area, and arrive at Boscombe beach at low water (17.14 hours).

I'm blessed not only with a good beach, but also a good sky, and I use a polarising filter to accentuate the cirrus clouds.  Composing the shot so that the late afternoon sun is just out of frame, I use the reflection of the groyne marker and the lengthening shadows to my advantage, and start making photographs.

There is already a noticeable difference in the quality of light at this time of year: autumn starts this weekend (the equinox is this coming Saturday). My photographic season starts then. Can't wait.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/11. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400. Polarising filter


© 2012

One shot and move on...

I'm back on the beaches again, working myself up for the low spring tides predicted for Poole Bay early next week, shooting anything I like the look of. At this time of year they are largely deserted, despite the good weather, as kids have returned to school and the holiday season is all but over. It won't be long until I get the place to myself again.

As yesterday, I am working to a specific brief that I have set myself, and this is based on the work ethic of American photographer William Eggleston: ordinary subject-matter, and only one shot of that subject before moving on to the next. My usual approach is to take a series of photographs of any given thing (assuming that opportunity exists) - 'working the scene' - as it is known. It has the obvious advantage of being able to select the shot that works best when the files are opened on my computer screen, but that alone has its drawbacks. I am sometimes faced with a sequence so similar in characteristics that it becomes quite difficult to select just the one. It is rather liberating to take a different approach once in a while, and work quickly.

This was, once again, brought home this morning as I began one of my ruthless edits of unused RAW files residing on my hard drive - languishing there since May. I deleted nearly a thousand pictures into the trash, and I am still roughly half way through the process. It is a tiresome business that is best avoided by good housekeeping, but with me that is easier said than done. I would rather be out taking photographs that stuck in front of my iMac.


24-70mmf/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/400 second at f/8. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 400


© 2012

Overdone...

I don't use filters in front of the lens very often, these days. Instead, I opt to add any sort of graduated or warm-up filters in Adobe Photoshop during post production. It saves a lot of time doing it this way, and I can always opt to undo the filter effect before saving the finished file should I judge it to be unsuitable for the image I am working on. This way I can tweak away until I am satisfied I have what I'm after on the computer screen.

There is one exception to this approach, and that is the use of the polarising filter. As yet, editing software cannot reproduce the effects of this filter in its entirety, since it has many and varied uses: darkening blue skies and increasing contrast between that and clouds; removing reflections from non-metalic surfaces, such as water, glass, paintwork and foliage (useful for shooting landscapes), and as a neutral density filter, since it blocks the light of all colours of the visible spectrum.

For all the benefits, it does have it's drawbacks (isn't that always the case?), as it sucks up to two stops of light entering the camera, and it can look quirky when used with ultra-wide angle lenses, since one side of the frame can be polarised whilst the other side is not. The filter can also impart a cool feel to the image, and some warming may be necessary to create a more pleasing photograph to the eye.

Therefore it is necessary to use this filter carefully, as too much can ruin a shot completely. However, today I am out in the bright, clear sunshine of late summer/early autumn, armed with the filter in question, and determined to do just that: overdo it. I am trying to produce over-saturated colours - by no means natural - purely for pictorial effect, and I achieve that with this image of a beach hut on the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset. I rotated the polariser for maximum effect, and managed to turn the blue sky an inky black, which shows how easily it is to create something that cannot be undone at a later stage.


24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor. 1/640 second at f/5.6. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 320. Polarising filter


© 2012

Enamel signs and Bulleid Pacifics...

I must be getting cranky about photography, because unless there are adverse conditions to inspire me I am just not happy. Today is a fine example: the Swanage Steam Gala. Run over three days, the 6 mile-long heritage railway run as much steam as possible - occasionally borrowing engines from other railways for the event. The weekend is set to have warm, sunny weather - ideal from their perspective for attracting large crowds to help swell the coffers - but it does little to produce images with a bit of grit to them.

I photograph a number of trains as they pull fare paying passengers up and down the line, but it is the advertising signs that adorn the platforms of Corfe Castle station that interest me more than any of the engines and rolling stock on display.

There are, of course, the ever-present multitudes of rail enthusiasts chasing everything that moves with both still and video cameras, as well as those that persist in leaning out of the carriages to record their journey for posterity, but sadly today I am not one of them. I could do with a bit of rail or hail to spice it all up a bit.

So, back to the colourful enamel signs: From a bygone age (in keeping with other paraphernalia that adds atmosphere to the platforms) - and in at least in one instance, potentially illegal (the cigarette advertisement; but since the brand name with "wild" in it only exists in Australia then maybe it's okay), I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, authentic.

Whilst shooting each one, I engage in a conversation with a fellow snapper, and debate whether or not they are original. He thinks they are the genuine article, based on the thickness of the metal they are painted on, but if that is the case then surely they are of value - at least to collectors? I suggest that they might be targets for unscrupulous souls that might "liberate" them to make a quick buck. We acknowledge each other's opinion, agree that they are rather splendid, and leave it at that.

I particularly like the starch sign (right), that not only demands you use this brand to the exclusion of all others, but it reinforces the fact that it is sold in cardboard boxes. Whether that had any bearing on the properties of the product - shelf life-wise or performance-wise - I have no idea, but so long as it  "gives sparkling crispness to linens, cottons and lace" (company claim), what more could you ask for? Nothing, that's what. Buy some today!

Oh yes, the train! It turned out to be the best shot of the day (left), so I thought I should include it here. The SR 4-6-2 "Battle of Britain" Class No. 34070 Manston, it ran on the Kent Coast line during the 1950s before being moved to Dover in 1955, where it was used on the Continental boat trains. After the electrification of the line in 1961, Manston no longer had work for it, and it finally ended up at Exmouth Junction, where it was operated by Southern Railway until its withdrawal from service in 1964. It was rescued from the scrapyard in 1978.

Thought you might like to know that - (all gleaned from the Swanage Railway web site. You didn't think I walked around with all that in my head, did you?).




Enamel signs: 24-70mm f/2.8G AF-S Nikkor.
Manston: 300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor


© 2012

No, not yet...

I've heard it several times already: It's autumn. The end of summer comes on the last day of August, yet nature still shows no sign of the colour yet to come. In fact you could be forgiven for thinking it was the height of summer in the southern part of the UK this week, with clear skies expected and temperatures touching 27ºC (81ºF) by the weekend.

Even so, I'm out on my bike in search of the early signs of my favourite time of the year, with all its colours, smells and stunning light. I pay a visit to the Stour Valley Nature Reserve, and although there is a vague tint of yellow on some trees it is definitely not happening yet - nor do I expect it to - not until next month, at the least.

Instead I point my camera at the river to shoot reflections, and the more abstract they are, the better. Life-like reflections have their place, but occasionally it can be fun to attempt to come up with something more impressionistic with just the camera alone. I do toy with the idea of fitting a polariser and reducing the amount of reflection I get, but what would be the point? It does make it onto the end of my lens - where it remains during the shoot - but rotated so it has little to no effect. This, of course, is pointless, as it only reduces the amount of light reaching the sensor - nothing else - but since I was not shooting hand-held it didn't bother me unduly. However, it is not recommended. What I did do to achieve something different than what the camera recorded, was to turn one of the images here upside down, just for the fun of it.


70-200mm f/2.8D Apo Sigma lens.
Top left: 1/100 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation
Right: 1/160 second at f/5.6.  - 0.33 EV compensation
ISO 500


© 2012

The Few...

Day four: Although there may seem madness in the method, there is at least method. Today, we are back in Kent, visiting the Battle of Britain Memorial: the National Memorial to the Few - who fought in the skies overhead in 1940. The site is situated at Capel-le-Ferne, above the famous White Cliffs, between Folkstone and Dover, on the South coast of the UK, and was chosen as it played a part in both World Wars of the 20th Century.

Behind the seated airman, forever gazing out to sea, is a wall containing all the names of nearly 3,000 aircrew who fought in the battle. Opened in 1993, the area is circled by high grassy banks, and is designed on the form of an aircraft propellor with the pilot at its centre. There are also replicas of a Vickers-Supermarine Spitfire and Hawker Hurricane aircraft - both so crucial to the outcome of the fight to prevent invasion - and the Battle of Britain Trust is currently raising money for a new visitor centre, which will be in the shape of a Spitfire wing, echoing the two stone signs at the entrance to the area.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/200 second at f/11. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 400. Monopod.


© 2012

Afterburner...

Today, Nic and I are back in the Dorset town of Bournemouth, for the last day of the annual, award winning, Air Festival: Free, and by the sea. As always, these events are at the mercy of the weather, but the fact that it is spread over four days gives spectators a fighting chance of at least one day of favourable conditions.

Unfortunately, on the day we visit the light is not co-operating, making it difficult to get good images. Difficult, yes; but not impossible. Despite the grey skies, I see the opportunity to capture a bit of colour and drama during the display of two RAF Tornado jets (the penultimate performance of the afternoon) by concentrating on the after-burners and the condensation forming over the wings during tight turns. To maximise this effect, I deliberately under expose, and choose my time carefully to fire a short burst of frames to get the results I am after.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/1600 second at f/6.3. - 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 500. Monopod.


© 2012