Wild Imagination Journal Has Moved!

Sorry for the delay posting this, in case anyone is still stumbling into this here, but the blog has moved! Check out the new WI Journal right here: http://www.wildimagephoto.com/journal/

White Mountains 100

So, I know I fell off the wagon again with posting... sorry. But to tide you over until I get back up on that horse again. Here is a video I put together about my recent experience racing in the White Mountains 100, winter endurance race. The course covers a long, 100-mile loop through the White Mountains Recreation Area north of Fairbanks. (www.whitemountains100.org). If you are interested in such crazy races, this is a great one.

Without further ado:

White Mountains 100 from David Shaw on Vimeo.

The Freedom of Point and Shoots

Ice fog at noon. ADMA mushing trails, Fairbanks AK.

Canon S95 Point and Shoot. RAW capture, post processing in Lightroom 3

Since my Ironman adventure back in November I've been rather obsessed with riding bicycles. This is something I've always enjoyed, but it has reached, I don't know, obsessive (?) proportions. I now own three main bikes, and have an older 4th bike that doesn't really get ridden. The most recent addition to my stable is a Salsa Mukluk. Now for those of you who don't live in Alaska, and aren't familiar with "Fat Bikes" this beast is something like a monster truck that you pedal. The tires are huge balloon things that are almost 4 inches wide, and can be ridden on extraordinarily soft pressures, which allows the rider to float along on top of snow where a normal set of tires would punch right through. Think of it as snowshoes for your bike. 

What does this all have to do with photography? Well, not a great deal, aside from the fact that the new bike will be getting me out more over the remainder of the winter. Which means more images. Now I realize I'm not going to be carrying an SLR and a quiver of lenses, but I will be toting along my S95. Many a photographer will raise their eyebrows at such a silly little camera, but don't scoff. If I weren't carrying it, I wouldn't have a camera at all. And that would be bad.

I'm also finding that the point and shoot is reigniting some of my creativity. It is simple and lacks pretension. That relieves some of the internal pressure to find an image that others will deem a "good" photograph. With a point and shoot, I am free. Free to be creative, to screw around, to just shoot some of the goings-ons in my life. If I get some usable images out of it, great, if not, still great because I had a good time out doing it. Sharing is the purpose of photography. It is about sharing what we care about, what we do, what we see, and our vision of the world. And if I'm not carrying a camera because it is too big and delicate to lug around on my snowy biking adventures, then I'm not a very good photographer am I?

Plus it shoots video!

New Year, New Light

Canon S95 Point and Shoot

This winter has not been easy for me. I'm used to some escape, and while I did spend nearly two weeks in Mexico in late November, I was so pre-occupied by preparing for, racing and recovering from the Ironman Triathlon, it hardly seemed to be an escape. In fact, this holiday season is the first I've ever spent in Alaska. Strange eh? I've lived here for 12 years and this was the first time I spent Christmas here. Basically, this means that I'm seeing this darkest time of year, in its entirety, for the first time. 

Now that we are past the solstice we are gaining back the sun in the range of 3 minutes a day, and that is enough to feel. Each day feels a bit brighter than the one before, the light lingers on the southern horizon for hours after sunset. But when the sun is up, it sheds wonderful, low-angle light across the landscape. Yesterday, New Year's Day 2011, was one such day. It is days like yesterday, when the the world no longer seems so black and white, so gray on gray, but rather an explosion of color. 

Canon S95 Point and Shoot

The 2 images here are mostly grab-shots, made with my new Canon S95 point and shoot. Got to say I'm impressed by this little machine. With a little work in Lightroom, the images are nearly perfect. I'm curious to see if my stock agency will accept a couple. I may try that this week.

Hiatus

Digital compilation of the 20 December 2010 lunar eclipse. Canon 7D, tripod, 70-200 f2.8L IS (IS turned off), 1.4tc, varying shutter speeds, ISO, and f-stop.

Yes, yes, I know, its been months and months since I posted. For some mix of reasons I've been lacking in photographic inspiration. I think I made fewer images over the course of this summer and fall than I have in many years. Not all the reasons are clear, but one in particular is crystalline. Since my return from Antarctica and the Southern Ocean last February, I have been training for an Ironman Triathlon (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and a full 26.2 mile marathon). I completed that Ironman in Cozumel, Mexico on 28 November. While the experience has nothing to do with photography (aside from the fact that I recorded video during parts of the race which I am currently editing), it was by far one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. Since it's off the subject, I won't go into the details here, though I may post a link at some point to the race report and video. 

Now that I've put that behind me, at least for the time being, my cameras have started to whisper to me again. My computer keyboard is more enticing and sparks of creativity (not yet a fire) are starting to flicker around in my head.

Which leads me to this entry. I'm hoping to start posting here again with greater regularity, show off not just my new work but some older images that I'm rediscovering. All of this, to come in the not too distant future. Keep your eye's open.

The image here was made during last week's lunar eclipse. I was fairly unprepared that night, as I'd failed to remember that I no longer possessed a tripod foot for my 500mm. Thus I couldn't use my big glass for the shots. I'm still kicking myself over this, as I'd envisioned crisp, frame-filling shots. Instead I did the best I could with my 70-200 and 1.4TC. It works in the smaller sizes but isn't crisp enough for publication. Lesson learned, and I'm ordering a new tripod foot today.

5 Tips for Better Aurora and Night Photography

My recent posts of aurora images have drawn a record number of visits to this blog, and several people have queried me with questions in the comments, emails, facebook, or twitter. So I thought I would pass on a few tips to make your own efforts with night photography a bit easier. 

1. Get a Tripod. I know this sounds self explanatory, but I'm constantly amazed at how many photographers don't own one, or if they do, don't use it. Tripods are, in my opinion, the one tool in a photographers kit that will greatly improve his or her images. Using a tripod forces you to slow down, think, compose carefully. You can't just point and shoot when using a tripod, you have to move slowly because everything simply takes more time. Of course, you also get sharper images. But I digress- You NEED a tripod for night work because the exposures are so long that it is absolutely impossible to do handheld work. So if you don't have one, get one. A cheapie from your local disount store will work, but I suggest you invest some money in a good set of legs and a good head, it will save you hours of frustration and buyer's remorse.

2. Determining Exposure. It is likely in night work that your camera will get very confused and unable to choose the appropriate f-stop or shutter speed. So you'll need to use the camera's manual setting. (For those who use auto-everything this is a good opportunity to throw away the crutches and learn something about exposure.) Next select an ISO that is appropriate to your camera. If you have a top of the line camera in Nikon or Canon's line with very low noise you'll be able to use a fairly high ISO setting, like 800 or even higher. If however, you shoot with a lower grade DSLR, you'll need to start lower. Try 200 or 400. Next, select a shutter speed. This will depend on your ISO and how fast your lens is. I suggest starting off around 15 seconds, then review your image on the LCD and adjust up or down as necessary. (A word of warning: on a dark night when the only light is your camera LCD your image will appear brighter than it will on your computer, so be careful.)

3. Sharpness. When I first began making images at night, this was my Achilles heel, as I think it is for most people starting out in this genre of photography. Focusing at night is tricky. Even the best cameras won't be able to focus in the dark so set your lens on manual focus and set it like this:

The left edge of the infinity line is the best place to start, small adjustments can then be made by reviewing the LCD after the first few images. You'll likely find if your foreground elements are placed sufficiently back in the frame that everything will be sharp, from the trees and hills to the stars and aurora.

4. Lens Choice. Go wide. Go fast. A good, wide-angle zoom allows you to show as much of the sky and foreground as you wish. The zoom will allow some latitude in your composition. A fast lens like an f2.8 or better will permit shorter shutter speeds which means less trailing in the stars, less wind-motion in the trees and better definition of the curves and pillars of the aurora. Slower lenses will work but higher ISOs (and thus more noise) might be necessary or longer exposures (leading to unwanted trailing in the stars or blurring of the aurora). 

5. Composition. Compose as though you were composing a landscape image. Your subject is the sky, but the other elements in the frame are just as important as they would be in daylight. An image of just the aurora and a few stars might have some interesting color but lacks of sense of place or depth. A poorly composed foreground will be a distraction. Select a tree, mountain, person, tent, or whatever and compose carefully. Don't get caught up with just the sky, in the end the other elements of the image are just as important.

Anyone else have thoughts, tips or additional questions on night photography? If so, leave them in the comments.

Spring...kinda

(Disclaimer: This image has nothing whatsoever to do with the following post)

April in Fairbanks is a tease. We have sparkling blue skies for what seems likes weeks on end. The snows turn to water and slide into the creeks which flow over and through the winter's ice, eating it away. People walk around in shorts and shirt sleeves, willing summer to come, despite the 38 degree temperatures. Road bikes and motorcycles appear on the streets that are now clear of snow and ice. And then...then it snows. 

It happens every year. And its happening today. Outside my window as I write this there are scattered flakes falling. Blowing actually, shoved along by an atypical cold wind. It is a sad landscape of gray and brown.

I know it won't last. Geese are arriving at Creamer's Field. I trust that they know better than I that spring is indeed here. Their lives depend on it, I'm just looking forward to summer.

Aurora Borealis

It's been a lousy season for the aurora, but a recent solar storm set the sky alight last night in one of the best displays I've seen in years. Even before the sky was fully dark, there were curtains of green sweeping across the dusky blue. By 11 when I made it down onto the ice of the creek below my cabin there were bright curtains of aurora overhead.

Some displays are almost static with little motion. Others, like last night were constantly shifting, moving fast. That made it basically impossible to capture the shape of the aurora, but the colors were vivid. Green with highlights of red and purple and bright stars in the background.

Nights like that make me very happy I live in Fairbanks.

Antarctica in Motion

During the Southern Ocean voyage I spent a fair amount of time recording video on my Canon 7D. The image quality of the stills in this camera may be only so-so, but the video capability is absolutely outstanding. For a recent talk on seabird ecology in particular and the trip in general I finally got around to piecing together some video. I've edited down the Antarctica portion of the trip into this short video. Let me know what you think.

Incidentally spring is arriving in force here in Fairbanks. The snow is melting off, sending streams of water across the ice of the creek below my cabin. Winter sports are almost at an end and my shutter finger is getting fired up for the return of the birds.

Antarctica from David Shaw on Vimeo.

Antarctica and the Southern Ocean Presentation

 My friends and colleagues Hugh Rose and Patrick Endres and I will be giving a presentation for the Arctic Audubon Society on our recent Antarctica trip. Each of us will be sharing a selection of images and sharing photo tips and anecdotes from our adventures. If you'll be in Fairbanks on Monday night at 7pm, join us at the Noel Wien Library for an hour of photography and natural history.

Adelies in the fog

Canon 7D, 17-40f4L @ 40mm, 1/640th @ f4.0, ISO 200

After our sunny morning exploring the peaks, and crags of Devil Island we motored off in the Polar Star to our first landing on Antarctica proper at the far northern tip of the peninsula, Brown Bluff.

The name Brown Bluff doesn't really do the place justice. The "bluff" is actually a 1000 foot cliff that shoots up a short distance from the beach. Snow and Pintado Petrels nest in the rock crevices and are constantly coming and going. Several thousand pairs of Adelie Penguins nest in a colony that reaches up the talus slope below the cliffs. Gentoo Penguins and Kelp Gulls occupy the boulders that are scattered up and down the gravel beach.

Since my first visit to the place in 2003, Brown Bluff has been among my favorites. Perhaps because it was the first place I encountered Adelies, or maybe because it was the first time I set foot on the great southern continent. Or maybe its just a remarkable place.

We arrived in cloudy, windless conditions, but as the afternoon went on, a fog bank rolled in from the north. First, as I zodiac cruised with a group of clients around the icebergs it began swallowing up the distant bergs, then the closer ones.

Back on shore, a short time later, I was photographing the penguins coming and going from the colony. They were splashing in and out of the water. The cold, foggy light made for challenging, but interesting, photography. It was a perfect chance for wide-angle work as the penguins popped from the water just feet away. The image above I snapped from a prone position on the beach. It's dark, but so was the day. This image reminds me of what the day felt like. The cold rock under me, the fog bank rolling in, graying the skies in the background, the icebergs floating like ghosts in water as gray as the sky.

Canon 7D, 17-40 f4L @40mm, 1/250th, f8.0, ISO 200, handheld from Zodiac

This second image was made during the short zodiac cruise around the bergs. The fog bank in the background made the blues in this berg pop like fireworks.

This is why I love the Antarctic. Every time the weather changes (which it does, almost constantly), the colors change, they brighten and soften, landscape elements appear and disappear. Even the wildlife seems to change. Penguins go from cute and clutzy birds to emblems of survival at the edge of what's possible.

Atop the Devil

Canon 7D, 17-40f4L @ 17mm, 1/3200th, @f9.0, ISO 200, handheld

Finally, we found the sun. It took two days of bashing through broken sea ice and trying to make up time in areas of open water, but we finally made it to the Antarctic Peninsula. Our first landing was on Paulet Island, a speck of rock north and east of the mainland and tucked up against the glaciated dome of Dundee Island. Paulet is a remarkable place where 100,000 or so Adelie Penguin pairs make their nests. There are penguins atop the icebergs that surround the island, they climb up and down the snowy slopes like ants, and fill the edges of the sea ice. It was sunny, warm, and a near-perfect day. And I got just about nothin' photographically.

Well that isn't entirely true, there are a few keepers in there, but nothing that really excited me. But I was in Antarctica and that alone made up for the fruitless hours with my camera.

That's why, for the time being at least, I'm skipping over Paulet Island and moving straight on to day 2 on the Antarctic Peninsula where we first visited Devil Island. This little visited island in the Weddell Sea is home to a few thousand Adelies, Skuas, Sheathbills and the other mishmash of Antarctic wildlife, but it is the scenery that makes the place.

Devil Island is tucked into a steep-sided cove of the heavily glaciated Vega Island and its summit rises some 1000 feet above the surrounding water. It is a remarkable place that made me wish for a sea kayak to explore the glassy waters. Instead I climbed.

With a handful of others I scrambled up the scree slopes to the taller of the island's two summits. From the summit ridge sprouts the pinnacle of the rotten stone in the picture above. Ted Cheeseman, the expedition leader and Ross Hofmeyr the ship's doctor went for a scramble to the top and I snapped a few images as they stood atop it.

Had I known that that glaring sun would be almost the last we'd see during our time on the continent, I'd have spent more time appreciating it.

Ice Becomes Us

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8L IS @200mm, 1/800th sec @ f8.0, handheld from ship's deck

Now we bid a fond farewell to South Georgia and head south into the colder and icier waters surrounding Antarctica.

Before we arrived at the great southern continent we first made a short detour into the very isolated South Orkney Islands. The Orkneys are a small, mountainous and heavy glaciated archipeligo that pop out of the southern ocean about halfway between South Georgia and Antarctica proper.

The weather absolutely sucked.

Though there was some dramatic light when we first arrived at the islands early in the morning, I was fast asleep and missed it. Patrick Endres, of course, didn't miss it and got a couple of incredible images. (Click HERE to check them out). By the time we pulled into Coronation Island's Shingle Cove the wind was howling.

And it just got worse.

Cheesemans' Safaris makes more effort to get people on shore, than any company I've ever encountered. And despite heavily gusting winds, we went to shore. It was cold and rainy and windy and nasty.

Oh, and there were penguins too. Our first Adelies of the trip.

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8L IS w/ 1.4TC, 1/500th, f4, ISO 200

I hardly made any photos while on shore that morning, I was much too distracted by the weather, riding ballast in otherwise empty zodiacs (to keep them from flipping in the 70mph gusts), and tending to very cold clients. Some people however were clicking away happily, I just wasn't one of them.

When we finally all made it back to the ship, safe and sound. We headed away from the island running with the wind into newly sunny skies. And there we encountered icebergs, lots of them. That day I made some of my favorite images of icebergs. The gray storm skies in the background and sunlit bergs made for incredible light.

The ice just made everything feel like...well it just felt like Antarctica.

Probably because that is where we were headed.

Photography advice from National Public Radio

Ira Glass from "This American Life" fame has this to say about story-telling. If you apply it to photography it is just as true. Enjoy.

Fur Seals: Striking Fear in the Hearts of Men

Canon 7D, 500mmf4L IS, 1/200th @f4.5, ISO 200

Look on ye short of bravery! Look deep into those dark, fierce eyes! Do they not strike fear into your heart? Do they not fill you with terror?

No?

Well they should. Because this little guy, cute as he may be, a few years from now will be leaping out of the tussocks, snarling like a pit-bull as you pass. This is one of the drawbacks of visiting South Georgia Island. Fur Seals are absolutely everywhere. They cover the beaches and fill the tussock slopes until the alpine zone 400 feet above the beach.

And they don't like you. Not one little bit.

Fur Seals, particularly the females can be very aggressive, very aggressive. My description of them leaping out of the tussocks is not at all an exaggeration. It is not uncommon for tourists to be bitten. One guide on our trip, Jim Danzenbaker had the knee of his waders patched up from a previous run-in with a grumpy seal. Luckily this year there were no contacts, aside from one saucy juvenile like the one above who decided to take a nip at the toe of my boot (only my pride was damaged).

There are a few techniques for dealing with these monsters. The most effective is to always carry a walking stick or tripod which can be used to fend off the charging seals. It isn't used as a club, more of a pointer. Point your tripod at the nose of the seal and it will, 99.9% of the time, stop in its tracks. Most charges are bluff, but in the event that it isn't, it's a good idea to have something between you and the seal.

From a photographic perspective, it isn't hard to get close. Too close is usually much more of a problem. The pups will come right up when they aren't napping. Their curiosity is endearing, as are their grayish, alien eyes. The adults will come right up too, but their teeth are usually bared and your tripod is too occupied shooing them away to hold a camera. But getting portraits from a few yards back is simple.

Canon 7D, 70-200 f2.8L, 1/160th @ f2.8, ISO 200

This one is an adult male. Not one of the really big ones, but a sizable fellow nonetheless. The males, gratefully, are usually confident in their status and don't feel the need to attack every human that walks by. I'm grateful for this because the few big ones I've been charged by have been much harder to dissuade with a pointy stick.

I like the big guys though. They look so arrogant with their noses in the air, eyes half-closed in disdain at the rest of the world.

Though I do think they'd look much better with a big red circus ball balanced on their nose. Maybe I'll bring one on my next trip.

South Georgia Predators: Giant Petrels

Canon 7D, 500mm f4L IS, 1/250th @f5.6, ISO 100

There are two species of Giant Petrels patrolling the Southern Ocean, known simply as Northern and Southern Giant Petrels. It would be great of course if their names actually meant there was some delineating line between the two, unfortunately, there isn't. They are of the same size and general shape, and their plumages are similar and they are often found in the same places. Separating the two, particularly at sea, is not always an easy task. Northerns have an orange tip to the bill and the eye is usually pale. While the Southern has a greenish tip to the bill and a generally dark eye.

So there you go, got that?

So what's the bird in the image? The bill is out of sight, tucked into the back feathers of the bird. But the eye, conveniently is open. The color? Gray. Thus, Northern Giant Petrel.

There is your birding tip of the day. Enjoy.

Now these things are the size of albatross. 6 feet from wing tip to wing tip and can be absolutely wicked predators. Primarily the Giant Petrels are scavengers, feasting on whatever nature provides, but occasionally they will cooperatively gang up on and kill things as large as elephant seal pups. It is unpleasant at best to watch 15 of these hulking birds reaching into the guts of a dead seal, blood smattered across their pale feathers and gore dripping from their beaks. In action, it is hard to believe that these birds are the same ones that nap so contentedly on the beach. Their long sharp bills tucked daintily into the soft feathers of their back.

If however, you are an injured or dying seal, many pairs of those lovely gray eyes will be the last thing you ever see.

Predators of South Georgia

Canon 7d, 17-40 f4L @17mm, f4, 1/2500th, ISO 200

It's a remote and isolated oceanic island, far, far from the mainland of South America and even farther from Africa. South Georgia Island has no native land mammals (though rats, mice, and reindeer have been introduced). No foxes, no wolves, no badgers, coyotes, squirrels, or weasels. It would seem that the local nesting birds, the penguins and petrels, would have it easy.

They don't.

While at sea, where the birds of South Georgia spend the majority of their time, they are hunted mercilessly by Leopard Seals and Orcas. On shore, they escape the threat of their aquatic predators, but not threat of the Skuas, Gulls, and Giant Petrels that are constantly looking for an opportunity to steal an unguarded egg or small chick.

The Skuas in particular are almost universally despised by visitors to the Southern Ocean. I say almost universally, because I happen to quite like them. Like any predator, they can brutal. On the South Orkneys we watched for several minutes as a pair of Skuas pulled an Adelie Penguin Chick away from its parents and off a short cliff. The downy chick tumbled down the rocks to land at the bottom where it was set upon by the Skuas. Over the course of a few minutes, as the chick tried to escape, struggle and fight back, the Skuas killed and began to eat it. It was, in no uncertain terms, brutal.

Yet the Skuas have chicks to feed as well. They are doing what is necessary to survive, however unpleasant that may be to our eyes.

It is not their brutality that I like, but their fearlessness. Skuas have no predators on land and no reason to fear people. Like the Caracaras of the Falklands they are more than willing to approach a person. Particularly if they have reason to suspect a meal might be in the making. This Skua came up to me as I lay prone on the grass shooting the wide-angle Gentoo image from the previous post. My low angle allowed me to get this rather distinctive and humorous portrait of the bird. From a standing position the shot would not have been so compelling.

Here is a photo tip for the Southern Ocean: get low, lay still, and wait for curious predators (they are sure to arrive).

Gentoos Above Fortuna Bay

Canon 7d, 17-40 f4L @17mm, 1/3200th sec, f4, ISO 200, handheld while lying down

South Georgia Island is a fjordland. All around the island are deep bays that reach into the mountainous interior of the island. Tidewater glaciers spill down to the sea from above turning the water a rich turquoise with the silt. The island is surprisingly green, particularly when compared to the shades of gray landscape of the Antarctic continent. The steep shores of the bays are covered in grass and tussocks. On a cloudy day when the glaciers and huge mountains are obscured you could almost imagine you were in Scotland or maybe the Aleutians.

Fortuna Bay lies on the north side of the island and holds the distinction of being the place where Ernest Shackleton reached the north side of South Georgia after crossing from King Haakon Bay on the south. He knew he was saved when he reached the top of the Fortuna Glacier and heard the sound of the horn from the whaling station at Stromness Bay a few miles to the east.

Fortuna carries that history, but unlike Stromness, Grytviken and other places in South Georgia, no rotting whaling station lies in Fortuna and the hand of man feels a bit more removed here than elsewhere on the island.

This was another early morning landing and I was on shore before 6am. It started off cloudy with wet snow falling intermittently. The ever-present fur seals cried from the beaches and hordes of King Penguins came and went along the shore. I climbed up the grassy slope to photograph a nesting Light-mantled Albatross. Then as tiny patches of sun came and went across the bay, I walked down to photograph a small colony of Gentoo Penguins high above the water, where I made this image.

It was quite a morning.

The Kings of South Georgia- Part III

Canon 7D, 70-200f2.8 @200mm, 1/640th, f2.8, ISO 100, -1/3EV, tripod mounted

I think this will be the last of my posts featuring King Penguins. I'm ready to move on with my life.

I mentioned in yesterday's post that there was a wall of birds and seals up the beach from where I was standing. I really wasn't joking. Granted the wall was no higher than three feet, but so dense and wide it seemed insurmountable. Instead we cut inland, around the wall and walked toward the colony from that direction. From the landing site, a mile distant, the colony looks like a gray patch of ground that extends from the flats near the beach up a hill to the south. As I hiked closer, some definition arose, and the gray mass began to separate into patches of gray and brown, then, before long into the dense mass of birds themselves.

The brown birds are juveniles, called "Oaken Boys". Kings have an odd breeding schedule, that I won't take the time to describe. But what it amounts to is during the summer the colony consists of adult birds sitting on eggs and older chicks whose parents are foraging out at sea. The Oaken Boys form groups called creches that mingle about throughout the colony.

Once at the colony, there was so much noise, so many trumpets from the adults and whistles from the juveniles it was difficult to speak. There steady movement of birds coming and going, shifting, and turning made the colors feel kaleidoscopic. Photographically, I wanted to portray the density of the place and my images of the birds close to my viewing location just weren't working out. So I turned my attention to where the colony extends up the hillside. There, due to the rise of the hill, I was able to get a perspective that worked for me. I shot a few with the long lens, but I didn't feel I was telling enough of the story so I switched to the 70-200 and made the top image here.

Canon 7D, 500mm f4L, 1/250th, f5.6, ISO 100, -1/3EV

This second image is a portrait of Oaken Boy. They are about the texture and shape of an over-sized Kiwi Fruit. They are also fearless and twice during that morning at Salisbury Plain I felt tugging on my backpack straps and turned to find an Oaken Boy fiddling with my gear. They are about three feet tall, and for all the world look like kids in Halloween costumes. It is nearly impossible not to be smiling when you are surrounded by all of this.

Canon 7D, 17-40 f4L, 1/1000th @f5.0, ISO 100, handheld

With this last image I leave the King Penguins of South Georgia Island and move on to other things. They may reappear again somewhere, but for now, I'm ready to start writing about some other aspect of the Southern Ocean.

Onward!

The Kings of South Georgia- continued

Canon 7D, 17-40f4L @17mm, 1/200th, f5.6, ISO 100, handheld

So before the rotten weather from the last post hit we had a few wonderful hours at the Salisbury Plain King Penguin colony. Honestly, I didn't spend a heck of a lot of time at the colony itself. The birds coming and going from the beach were so interesting and photogenic that I hardly got myself more than a few hundred meters from the landing location for most of the morning.

Cheesemans' Safaris works hard to get people on shore for as long as possible. And this morning, like several during the trip, there was the option for an early landing. Clients could skip breakfast in exchange for more time on shore. As staff, we weren't really given that choice, which was fine since I would have been there anyway. The early risers on this particular morning were well rewarded. Some of the best light we had on the island, we found during those early hours. After breakfast, when the lie-a-beds were making it to shore, the clouds rolled in, it started to snow, the wind picked up and within a couple of hours it looked like that video in the last post. Things change fast in the southern ocean and you can never assume you'll have a second chance.

The top image is one of several favorites from the trip. I was walking my way slowly up the beach, making photos as they presented themselves when this group of Kings erupted from the water and waddled up the beach toward me. It was almost a grab-shot, but it worked.

Canon 7d, 17-40 f4L @17mm, 1/250th, f5.6, ISO 100, handheld

This next image was made around the same time as the first. So many Kings were moving up and down the beach that I just parked myself on the sand and waited for groups to walk by. I never waited long, there was a steady stream of birds coming and going, coming and going. When I looked down the beach toward the colony it was just a wall of birds and seals.

Eventually I'll get around to posting some video clips, or if I'm really ambitious an edited compilation of the trip. Better than a photo, video shows the density and constant motion of the wildlife. But you'll just have to wait for that.