Category: Polar regions

Icy ‘Close Encounters’ Of The Titanic Kind

Search lights explore the surrounding fjord in an attempt to find a navigable path out of the jigsaw of icebergs that had surrounded us as we slept.

This truly was a close encounter of the titanic kind… Whilst resting in Greenland’s Scoresbysund one evening, our ship was struck by an iceberg. Our captain used powerful search lights to explore the surrounding fjord in an attempt to find a navigable path out of the jigsaw of icebergs that had surrounded us. As the single beam of light danced over the water, icebergs emerged out of the black of night. I captured this image, heart in my mouth, wondering what the beam would illuminate next.

Further images from our Greenland expedition are available in our Taraji Blue Arctic photo gallery.

 

Close Encounters … The Day I Was Courted By A Gentoo Penguin

 

The ‘Close Encounters’ theme currently running on Taraji Blue’s facebook page   (and shared here) is not about displaying our perfect and favourite photos – it’s about giving you glimpse into our travels, the things we have seen and the encounters we have had with people and Mother Nature. It’s about sharing a moment in time which changed our perspective on the world or humbled us to realise what a precious planet we inhabit.

This photo shared today is a prime example of this… it was taken in Danko Harbour, Antarctica on New Year’s Day 2007.  It’s by no means a great photo – but it captures a moment in time that is so, so precious to me. ……

We’d all celebrated a little but too much the night before and I was among the many who were feeling a little delicate the morning after. After a bouncy zodiac ride into the harbour (!!) some decided to sleep on the ‘beach’ whilst the rest of us set off to hike up the hill. I very quickly fell back, taking the opportunity to collapse in the cold snow and recover. Lying on my own in the warm sun and cold snow I closed my eyes for a moment. I was awoken by the pitter patter of penguin feet – a Gentoo penguin was starting the long walk up the hill toward me. I sat up very slowly and watched him struggle to walk up the slippery slope – He was on a definite course towards me and it must have taken him 15-20 minutes to reach me.

Upon arriving at my left hand side he proceeded to arch around me onto the flat, rock covered ledge upon which I had been propping myself. He then proceeded to collect stones and build a nest around me, proudly taking his time to pick the best stones and build them up. I daren’t move. I had seen similar behaviour on tv and knew that this was very symbolic – he was building a nest for me! I dared not breathe or move a muscle…all I could hear was the delicate pitter patter of his wet feet on the rocks and the ‘chink’ as he placed the stones by me. Every now and again the silence would be broken by a fellow passenger on the top of the hill who was sobbing with joy at this sight. She’d whisper loudly when she felt I could turn to see and not disturb the penguin and at this point I’d capture a glimpse of him and the nest.

I stayed with the penguin for over an hour until I had to return to the boat. I considered myself betrothed to the Gentoo Penguin at that point in time and had the largest smile across my face.  Upon returning to the ship I sought the expedition staff and shared the experience with them – they’d never heard anything like it. People shared their images of me and the penguin and we chattered into the night.

This was a close encounter of the best kind – truly once in a lifetime.

Additonal images from our trip to Antarctica are available in our Taraji Blue Antarctica photo gallery. 

 

Softness and peace in photography

The final moments of sunset diffract up and through the narrow conjunction of two Arctic mountains, reflecting as a thin line across King Oscar Fjord, and peace descends over the landscape.

I wanted to expand a little on a comment I left on Google+ in response to David Bowden and Max Huijgen about the peculiar way this vast internet has very little space.

There are many excellent highly saturated photographs on Google+, 500px, Flickr, 1x and other sites. There are many excellent high-dynamic range photographs, particularly in architecture where the form is being celebrated over the presence. There are many ultra-contrasty monochrome images. They are all well composed, they are well produced, they are visually striking and attention grabbing. They aren’t always loud but they are filled; from start to end, they sing proudly. Some of my images aim in the same direction.

The problem I have, is that they become pop songs. Omnipresent, predictably perfect, histogram and colour lined up just perfectly so there’s no gaps, no discontinuity. Pop is fine, but sometimes you need discord; sometimes you need silence, a place to reflect, a place with rough edges and broken clarity (I do NOT mean Instagram filters!).

But this is just conjecture. What really saddens me is that in most cases, our own eyes should be THE best experience. A photograph should stun you enough to visit a wonderful area of our planet, and when you get there, you should feel the thrill of experiencing such beauty for yourself – you should feel and see more than the photograph. Instead there’s the risk that you’ll feel Petra isn’t pink as you saw on the internet, or the Taj Mahal isn’t quite as sharp, or that cheetah that just TORE ACROSS THE PLAIN AFTER AN IMPALA IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP ITSELF ALIVE was sadly a bit further away than the shots you saw online.

Careful photographs can conjure up dreams. They are suggestive, not expressive; they prompt your imagination to do more work, they take you there but they conceal the best parts. They say, “I need to see more of this” rather than “I have seen the best of this”.

The world is not a product to be shot in a studio environment. It is a world of stories, with all the dirt, imperfections, subtleties and yes, sometimes quiet and silent desaturated realism. There is room for all of us, and this is a plea for you to tell your story because it isn’t perfectly produced. Whisk me away into a moment, not a product.