Oare Marshes...

Over the next few days I am staying with my friend and fellow photographer, Nic, and the time will be split between Dorset and Kent - photographing this; watching that - and generally having a good time of it all.

First off, it is an early evening trip to Oare Marshes, on the south bank of the Swale Sea Channel, near Faversham, Kent. The site is an internationally important nature reserve, but there is also a history of the manufacture of gunpowder and boat building, although the former is long gone and there is scant evidence of the latter, these days.

The photograph shows the joining of the Faversham (left) and Oare Creek (foreground) at Hollowpoint. The tide is clearly out at the time of shooting, but the creeks and channels are open for navigation when the water returns at this remote and tranquil area.


24-70mm f/2.8 AF-S Nikkor. 1/125 second at f/8. ISO 640


© 2012

Bournemouth Air Festival, 2012...

The first day of the annual Bournemouth Air Festival 2012, Dorset, and it is opened in style by the emotional return of the Red Arrows, at 3pm. As is to be expected, the close formation flying and "synchro pair" are of the highest standard, but their usual number is reduced by two, owing to one of its pilots transferring to a ground based role, and as a result a second aircraft being removed from the team to preserve the symmetry of the formation.

The nice thing about this particular air festival is that it is a four day event, and I can opt to experiment with camera angles and locations, as I did today. Instead of positioning myself at the centre of the action I decide to shoot at a distance of around two miles, using a telephoto lens. It can be a risk as I am having to deal with atmospheric turbulence at such a range, but I still manage a number of useable images. However, I conclude that is little to be gained - if anything - by doing this, so in future I will endeavour to get into the thick of it as frequently as possible.

However (there's always one of those, isn't there?) I do benefit from being outside of the designated display area with the faster display jets, such as   with the Hawker Hunter "Miss Demeanour" (right), painted in its unique colour scheme for no other reason than to make it a work of art. The pilot is making his turns overhead and I am able to get some photographs other than just profile pictures.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor

Top: 1/4000 second at f/5.5. + 0.33 EV compensation
Right: 1/1250 second at f/5.6. + 0.33 EV compensation
ISO 400


© 2012

Always follow your dreams...

Having been designed by local school children, the 5 metre-high permanent memorial to Flt. Lt. Jon Egging - "Eggman"- Red 4, went on display on Bournemouth's East Cliff this afternoon during a private ceremony, attended by members of The Red Arrows and the former pilots wife. It was Dr Egging that chose the winning entry for the design from entries following a competition amongst local schools in the town.

The three aircraft are made of glass, with stainless steel contrails, each one containing 60 glass beads in the team's traditional colours of red, white and blue. The whole thing weighs-in at one tonne. There is also a plaque set into stone in front of the sculpture, with the inscription:


                                  Always follow your dreams
                                               Blue skies

Memorial to Flt. Lt. Jon Egging - Eggman - Red 4
who tragically died when his Hawk aeroplane crashed after displaying at the Bournemouth Air Festival on 20 August 2011

Memorial unveiled on 29 August 2012 by:

The Worship The Mayor of Bournemouth Cllr Phil Stanley-Watts, Dr Emma Egging (Jon's wife),
Dawn Egging (Jon's mother), Flt. Lt. Ben Plank (Red 6) of the RAF Red Arrows and James Godley (Jon's childhood friend).

Design based on an original idea by pupils from Kinson Primary School, Bournemouth.
Bournemouth Borough Council commissioned artist Tim Ward of Circling the Square to create this Memorial



© 2012

Big sky...

Although I've been told that the subject is taboo until the month of September, I'm going to say it anyway: today I got the first hint of autumn light. It is still warm enough - and will, hopefully, continue to be so - for a good while yet, but it is definitely there.

I had planned on a walk along the sea front - keeping an eye out for the local kestrel - but got no further than the cliff tops of Southbourne. It is a clear day with a brisk southern breeze, and the cloud formations alone were deserving the attentions of my lens, this afternoon.

It is odd that I seem to be taking so many photographs from one particular spot at the moment, but it does afford me a sweeping vista of Poole Bay, Dorset; the Isle of Wight and the distant hills of the Isle of Purbeck. Maybe I chose the location instinctively, as a starting-off point, and whilst writing this it has given me the idea for an ongoing project.

Anyway, back on topic; the upper and lower level clouds are moving across the sky at different speeds, and the wind shear in the upper atmosphere is producing some spectacular results, as with today's image, taken from the same place as this shot, except with a wide angle lens as opposed to a super-telephoto. I have the sun in the shot, so I need to be careful I don't end up with a grossly underexposed photograph. Even so, using Aperture Priority mode, I only need to add ⅔ of a stop extra to the camera's suggested exposure to produce a workable RAW file.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/1250 second at f/8. + 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Once in a while...

Whenever questioned about digital photography, and whether or not it is a better medium than film, I alway clearly and emphatically state that yes, it is, and from my perspective there will be no turning back. However, there is the occasional (and rare) moment when I would like to wheel-out one of my film cameras, just to take images like the one here.

At one time I was able to kick-start a barren period of photography by using a specialist emulsion, such as infrared - something not so easy to do with a digital SLR. There are ways, of course, as it is perfectly feasible to have a body converted (at a price) solely for infra-red shooting, but the modification is permanent. Doing this would deprive me of my back up camera; something I am not prepared to sacrifice.

The thing is, that this type of photography is fun, inasmuch as that it is somewhat unpredictable. The photograph of St. John the Evangelist church at Holdenhurst Village, Dorset, was the very first exposure made by me on such film, and although I had read articles on the subject beforehand, it was still largely guesswork. For one, I had to manually focus the lens onto the special infrared index mark on the lens barrel, as the unseen rays are longer than visible light. I also needed a deep red filter over the lens to block most of the visible spectrum. Having done all this; and set up on a tripod due to long shutter speeds, I had to guess at exposure since the camera's meter didn't respond to infrared radiation. All rather jolly.

The resulting negatives were rather dense - despite some serious bracketing at the shooting stage - and the best of them required a basic exposure of five minutes at f/8 in the enlarger! Of course, now I am able to scan the negative and work on the image in Adobe Photoshop, which gives me far greater control, but not quite such fun when something pleasing comes up in the developer. Those were the days!



24mm f/2.8 Zuiko lens. Kodak Wratten 25 filter. Kodak High-Speed Infrared film (HIE), rated at ISO 50. Tripod and cable release. July 6th, 1986


©  1986-2012

Not text book material...

I have preached the idea in the past, so today I take a slice of my own advice and shoot wildlife on my doorstep. There is plenty to be found in your garden if you look, or, should you not have one of your own, the local park, or as in this case, the local golf course.

I'm after dragonfly - nature's little helicopters - and they can be surprisingly easy to photograph, purely because they so are fiercely territorial. An individual, such as this Common Darter (Sympertrum striolatum), will usually have a favourite perch over water, such as a small branch or reeds, and will repeatedly return to its chosen spot after flying off to hunt, or patrol its area and ward-off would be threats (such as other dragonflies). All the photographer has to do is focus on that spot; wait, and fire the shutter at the appropriate moment. Easy-peasey.

Well, maybe not that simple, as successful images do require suitable lighting and positioning of the camera, which is not always feasible. In my book the wings and body should be parallel with the plane of focus, unlike here, where I am forced to focus on the eye and stop the lens down to get a bit of depth of field happening. The alternative is to get wet feet, and risk driving off my subject, and in wildlife photography that is a no-no. Still, I'm not shooting for text book illustrations, so I'm not too worried. At this time of year I am just pleased to be shooting anything.


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/800 second at f/8. ISO 640. Monopod


© 2012

A year ago today...

It was a year ago today that Red 4, of the Royal Air Force Aerobatic Team - otherwise more popularly known simply as The Red Arrows - crashed into fields near the village of Throop, after returning to Bournemouth International Airport, having just displayed in front of an estimated crowd of 300,000 on the town's seafront. The pilot was killed. I had photographed the performance, and found it difficult to comprehend as the news of the disaster began to filter through the crowds. After all, these guys don't make mistakes, do they?

Although pilot error is not suspected at all, I am still having difficulty in finding any report of the MOD's findings into the incident, and therefore assume their investigations are still ongoing.

The site itself (right) has started to become overgrown as the summer grasses take a hold and nature heals the scar, but at the time of my visit several kind souls have visited the little stone cairn that marks the spot, and have left fresh-cut flowers and a message as a tribute.

Hand written, the message on the card reads:

One year ago today, on 20 Aug. 2011, you lost your life, and we remember you, every time we pass this monument.

A Throop resident

A permanent memorial to Flt Lt Jon Egging, designed by local school children, is due to be unveiled on Bournemouth's East Cliff to coincide with the opening of this years Air Festival at the end of the month.


12-24mm f/4G AF-S Nikkor. 1/250 second at f/8. - 0.67 EV compensation. ISO 200


© 2012

Next time...

After last week's experiment of shooting a firework display at a distance, I opt this week to get in somewhat closer for what might be considered a more sensible approach. Initially, I had ideas about being under the display, so to speak, shooting upwards. Why, I even entertained the idea of shooting with a fisheye lens (there was one in my bag tonight), but I eventually settle on an elevated position, 750 yards (686 metres) from my subject.

I wait in the heat of the summer night, while the mosquitos have a field day. If last week was anything to go by, I will have a few lumps here and there come morning. The hour comes; the display starts, but it is immediately obvious that I have the wrong lens for the job on the camera - a wide zoom. Even at its longest setting it is giving me woefully small images, so I and forced to make the change to rescue the shoot, and fit a standard zoom lens.

By the time I make this decision the display was probably half over, but having fumbled about in the dark (yes, I did have a torch with me, but it was effectively useless, as there was no way to hold it and mount the lens at the same time), and achieved framing and focus, the pyrotechnics were beginning to reach their peak. The best is always saved until last with such events. Even so, out the 28 frames I exposed I only came away with two useable images, one of which you see here, with Bournemouth Pier dwarfed beneath multiple bursts. I breath a sigh of relief: it could have been far worse. I'm already thinking about next week.


24-70mm f/2.8G Nikkor. Bulb exposure. f/5.6. ISO 400. Tripod and remote release. Mirror lockup.


© 2012

Back to normal...

The London 2012 Olympics has come and gone; the weather improved from unpredictable wind and rain to what most would consider summer conditions for the occasion, and then, as if cued-in by some unseen higher force, the real British summer returns and everything is back to normal.

In fact, it was a day of two halves (to borrow a cliché from football pundits), with all morning having rain before the sun appeared in all its glory for the rest of the day, from early afternoon onwards. Photographic conditions!

I'm back along the seafront of Poole Bay, Dorset, in the driving rain, looking for things to poke my lens at, and once again looking for detail in the sand. The rain can be challenging as it is difficult to keep the front element of the lens free from water droplets, but it is always worth the effort as there is something special about flat light. Of course, the same light can be had when it is not raining and only overcast, but the wet keeps the beaches largely empty, and I can work undisturbed.

85mm f/1.4D AF Nikkor. 1/100 second at f/4. + 0.33 EV compensation. ISO 640


© 2012

Experience and guesswork...

It has been a funny old week. At this time of year I usually find myself in the photographic doldrums: no real inspiration or motivation. In fact, I have been out shooting during the past two days and deleted everything. Instead, I find myself wanting for that glorious autumn light more and more. I do have one or two projects to shoot before all that happens: the annual Bournemouth Air Festival at the end of the month, for example, but otherwise my camera may just as well stay in the bag.

I do, however, have a moment of clarity through it all, as I consign this morning's early (and fruitless) set of images to the trash on my computer; and that is to photograph the fireworks display - held every Friday during August - on Bournemouth pier. I quickly dismiss the idea of rubbing shoulders with the multitudes that will gather near the event, and opt to work from a distance: a much greater distance.

A bit of an experiment, actually, as I want to use a super-telephoto lens for the job, and shoot over water, as it will have the added benefit of producing reflections for the foreground of the picture. This can have its drawbacks, especially with long exposures needed to capture several bursts on one frame. The slightest vibration will ruin the photograph. I'm lucky. There is very little wind - if any - on the cliff tops of Southbourne, where I set up, and visibility is excellent. I can see the white flash of the lighthouse at St. Catherine's Point on the southern tip of the Isle of Wight, some 24 miles away, so I know the 2.8 miles between me and my subject will cause no problems at all. The fireworks are launched at 10pm, and I start making exposures based on experience and guesswork. No other way to do it.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor (VR off). 3½ seconds at f/8. ISO 200. Bulb exposure and remote release. Tripod


© 2012

Miles apart...

I am fascinated with super-telephoto lenses, not only for their pulling power of distant subjects, but for their pictorial effect alone. The myth is that they change the perspective of an image: the longer the lens the greater the change, but a myth it remains. Although the quality would suffer by the sheer enlargement, the scene above, if photographed with a wide angle lens and blown-up so the large white building were the same size as here, the perspective would remain the same.

The one thing such long lenses do is lend a claustrophobic feeling to a scene, piling plane upon plane and giving the impression that objects are closer (or even on top of each other), than they actually are; a technique used in the film industry to impart a feeling, perhaps, that a character is is closer to danger than in reality, much to the approval of both the actor/stunt man and their respective insurance companies.

The image, shot from Southbourne cliffs this morning, illustrates this well. The small red ice cream sign near the bottom right of the frame and the red and white building midway up the frame on the left may seem relatively close in the grand scheme of things, but in reality are just over two miles apart. The furthest feature from the camera is the balloon, tethered over Bournemouth gardens in the centre of town.


300mm f/2.8 AF-S VR Nikkor with TC-14EII converter. 1/2500 second at f/4. ISO 200. Monopod


© 2012

A respectful distance...

I've not done much photography over the past few days; what with the London Olympics on television and what-not, so today I make the effort for forsake watching the women's pair win a gold medal in the rowing event, and get on my bike, suitably equipped.

I've chosen a specific subject to shoot, and selected what might not necessarily be a nature photographer's first choice of lens for the job. I am after damselflies; any species will do, and I'm carrying a super-telephoto lens. Most shooters of this type of subject might consider reaching for a macro optic as a first choice, but I'm being clever, here. I do own a macro lens, but it is a woefully short focal length of 105mm - fine for static, inanimate themes, but not so conducive to getting frame-filling images of nervous insects - so something much longer was needed.

I have two 300mm Nikkors: one with a maximum aperture of f/2.8; the other a more modest f/4 - both professional lenses. I kept the latter when I bought its bigger brother because of its ability to focus down to around five feet or so. That, plus it is somewhat smaller and lighter, and also has stellar optics, even when used wide open. It enables me to keep a respectful distance from such subjects such as this Banded Demoiselle damselfly (Calopteryx splendens), photographed at Throop Mill on the Dorset Stour, this afternoon. It was the only one I saw, and although it got my full attention for several minutes, the long focal length ensured I didn't have to get so close as to stress the little chap (yes, it's a male).


300mm f/4 AF-S Nikkor. 1/160 second at f/8. ISO 400. Monopod


© 2012