The Great Barrier Reef ....photography

They say that daylight has a colour temperature of around 5500 K, but out to sea under a blue sky, this isn’t always the case. It’s funny how our habits as photographers change – or should I say, how my habits have changed. When shooting film, I’d usually have an ultraviolet (UV) filter on my lens ‘to take the blue out’.

While invisible to the human eye, ultraviolet radiation generally records as blue on colour film and as haze on all films. It has a similar effect on digital sensors as well, but of course, many of us don’t believe in using filters anymore.

There is an argument that states, why would you want to degrade the quality of your lenses by placing another piece of glass (or, heaven forbid, plastic) in front. If the lens designers thought a filter was a good idea, surely they would have included it as part of the design. This argument fails in several places, of course, but even so, given digital photography allows us to adjust our image files so easily, many ‘essential’ filters are no longer used. And in any event, the majority of UV filters were sold for ‘protection’ of the front lens element, and you could clean them with a dirty sock if you had to because, if scratched, they were not as expensive to replace as the front lens element.

Not that I ever cleaned my lenses with a dirty sock. Ever.

Here’s the original exposure with the white balance in Capture One Pro 6 set to ‘Shot’ mode. In other words, this is the white balance setting suggested as a starting point by my camera. Of course, capturing raw files means I can change the white balance to any setting I like when converting the file. According to Capture One Pro 6, the Kelvin is 7943 K and the Tint is set to 3.0.

Note, there are no adjustments made to this file at all – it is effectively straight out of the camera. However, you can see quite clearly that it is ‘daylight’ over Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, so what happens if I set the white balance in Capture One Pro 6 to ‘daylight’ (or if I had set the white balance to daylight on my camera)?

At a 5500 K daylight setting, the photo is considerably bluer. And this isn’t what I remember seeing, either. The human eye when coupled to the brain is an incredible imaging device, not only adjusting the ‘exposure’ but also filtering out colours. I remember very clearly how strong and vibrant the colours over the shallow reef were compared to the darker blues of the deep water outside. This colour contrast is lost due to the overpowering blue colour cast.

I’ve taken a dozen helicopter rides over the Great Barrier Reef and every time it is different. In August, I was on Hamilton Island, giving a workshop with David Oliver and Bruce Pottinger. We do this every year and one of the highlights is the helicopter ride over Whitsunday Island and then out to the reef.

On this day, there was a strong southerly wind and the air was very hazy, which means that the images are lacking in contrast. The greater the distance, the more haze you look through and we’re at around 1500 feet (from memory). So, while I didn’t have an ultraviolet filter with me, I could use Capture One Pro 6 to tweak the colour temperature (just a little warmer) and increase the contrast. I also added an adjustment layer to darken down the sky at the top.

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At the outskirts of Monte Fitz Roy, Argentina... Photography

Alpine Stream under Monte Fitz Roy

Above El Chaltern and well before Monte Fitz Roy, deep in Patagonia, there’s a wonderful national park with some very photogenic walking  tracks. Even better, you can hire some of the young mountaineers in the area who will carry your gear from camp to camp, just for a bit of training (and a small amount of cash).

We’d spent a couple of nights at a camp above El Chaltern, waiting and watching the weather as it crossed the ranges in the distance, and now we were walking ten kilometres across to the base of Cerro Torre and a second camp. This stream was at one of our rest stops, but a rest from walking inevitably saw us wandering around with our cameras, looking for things to photograph.

I loved this oddly shaped rock, seemingly a towering mountain on a micro scale, surrounded by a flooding stream. Well, perhaps my imagination was getting away with me, but I thought it looked interesting enough to pull out my camera.

There are two techniques used for capturing this image.

The first is the use of a tilt-shift lens, a Canon TS-E 24mm on an EOS 1Ds Mark II. Canon has since upgraded both. Generally speaking, a tilt-shift lens is used to reduce distortion. When photographing buildings, rather than pointing your lens up to include the top of the building (and creating unwanted converging vertical lines), you shift the lens upwards while keeping the camera back parallel to the building. The result is a technically correct perspective.

However, if you shift the lens and tilt the camera the opposite way, you can distort the edges of the image, effectively stretching the scene. This works well with the distant mountains, stretching them so they look a little higher than they actually appeared through a wide-angle lens.

The photo below shows the straight photo without the lens shift. Note the height of the mountains in the background.
Compare this with the following image that includes a lens shift, and a re-framing of the image as well. The two compositions are very similar, but not identical, but the main difference is that the mountains loom larger and appear more impressive. I like this!

The second technique is the use of a neutral density filter. The ND filter allowed me to lengthen my shutter speed. This exposure is 60 seconds at f8 (it’s a 10x ND filter), during which time the water is recorded as a silvery smear and the clouds have also been beautifully blurred.
Compare the result with the same angle taken at a more conventional 1/250 second (see the previous photo). The clouds are more distinct and the water has much sharper reflections. In comparison, I like the ND filter effect because it takes the photographs one step away from reality.
In the days of film, we had to deal with reciprocity failure and colour shifts because the different layers in the film had different responses to light. I think some digital sensors are similarly affected with colour shifts at very long exposures and this shows up as a colour cast. This is the original exposure from the Canon EOS 1Ds Mark II before editing in Capture One.

The magenta colour cast can be quite enchanting, but not for every photograph you take. Fortunately, it’s an easy matter to correct the colour balance – simply use the White Balance Picker in Capture One and the image’s natural colours immediately appear.

To process this image, I also had to make some strong adjustments to the Brightness and Saturation. I also added in three Local Adjustments, lightening up the middle ground and adding a little sharpening to the rock.

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Black & White at Rio Fitz Roy, Argentina...Photography

One of the best aspects of landscape photography is the opportunity to visit some amazing places and to experience nature on your own. And it’s funny that even in the most majestic and photogenic locations, what takes our eye are the little details tucked in a corner. This is a classic case of all the elements coming together in an unexpected way.

Now, admittedly I might love this photograph more than you do. After all, it comes attached with lots of emotional baggage when I look at it, whereas other people may simply see an oddly shaped rock sitting on the edge of a stream.

The Patagonian trek above El Chaltern in Argentina reveals some incredible vistas, but you’re reliant on the weather cooperating. On this particular day, the cloud was thick and low, the temperature cold. We had woken at dawn and crunched our way along a frosty dirt track, heading towards the edge of a glacial lake at the foot of Cerro Torre. We could see the near edge of the lake, but not the far shore, nor the towering peaks behind. It was a white out.

However, just being in this location was reward enough and if there weren’t big vistas, perhaps there were more localised opportunities. I started exploring the river where it left the glacial lake and began its descent to the valley floor below.

I stopped to take a few images, using a neutral density filter and a long exposure to blur the water as it flowed along. Each exposure was around two minutes, so while I was waiting for the exposure to finish, I would keep my circulation going by hopping around and clapping my hands together for warmth. And then it started to snow.

Now, for someone who lives in the snow, this was probably not a remarkable or even interesting occurrence, but for an Australian who rarely sees snow (unless travelling, of course), it was a memorable experience. Huge flakes, twice the size of a 1 Euro coin, floated gently down and at one point, it was difficult to see the rock I was photographing because the flurry was so heavy.

As the visibility reduced, I became very aware of the sounds around me – or the lack of sound. Apart from the river itself, there was nothing else. Just me.

The snow flurry lasted less than a minute, but the experience has remained for many years and every time I look at this photograph, I enjoy reliving it.

Whether your photos are visual masterpieces or happy snaps doesn’t really matter.

There were two photographs from this session which I loved, and this one I chose to turn into a black and white. As you can see from the original exposure (below), the file is relatively flat as you would expect under a low, overcast sky.

I find when creating black and whites that I get the best results when I start with a good quality colour file. Turning this original capture into black and white without also developing the tonal range would not create a satisfying result.

In fact, compare the colour photo below with the black and white image at the beginning of the article – both have the same series of local adjustments used to enhance the trees, the stream and the rock, and to darken the background and foreground.

I think both versions work quite well, but which one do you prefer? The colour or the black and white? Or, has talk of the snow flurry put you off the photograph completely?

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The golden hour at Monte Fitz Roy...Photography

Fitz Roy Sunrise

Most landscape photographers have heard of the ‘al pen glow’, ‘alpine  glow’ or the ‘golden hour’.  It’s generally meant to describe sunlight before sunrise or after sunset, the light coming from below the horizon and being reflected off airborne snow, water or ice particles in the atmosphere. Photographers like it because the light bounced back to earth is strongly colored and looks great in photographs.

While you can get an alpine glow anywhere, it seems to have its strongest manifestation in alpine regions. Indeed, when I think of Patagonia, I recall images of towering peaks photographed in dramatic lighting with rich reds and oranges. Or perhaps it was just my diet of National Geographic magazines that gave me this impression.

I camped out in the foothills of Monte Fitz Roy in Patagonia for a few nights, hoping to see the mountains lit by the alpenglow in the early morning. I would have preferred the evening alpine glow because then I could sleep in, but sunset wasn’t going to be much use because the mountains would be backlit.

Luck didn’t seem to be on our side when I went to bed that night. It was overcast and drizzling, so unless something dramatic happened, we were in for a drab and grey morning.

The alarm woke me at an ungodly hour. I was travelling with Darren Leal and a group of photographers, and Darren had in mind a location called Duck Lake from which we could photograph Monte Fitz Roy. As I stepped out of my tent, I looked towards the sky, hoping to see stars, but there were none. In fact, the cloud seemed thicker and heavier, if anything.

Even though our viewpoint was only a kilometre or so away, you never know what the weather is going to do and dawn was still an hour away. We grabbed our cameras and tripods and headed along the trail.

From time to time I’d look skyward, hoping against hope for a miracle, but there were no stars to be seen and, after a while, I lost interest. Maybe the following morning would be better. I concentrated on the path ahead which was becoming rougher and more difficult, my torch-light leading the way.

About ten minutes later, I saw a strange light on the ground in the distance. It was a most unusual shape and it took me a little while to work out what it was: the lake. Even better, the light was the clear blue sky being reflected off its glassy surface.

The weather had changed overnight, clearing completely and so the cloud I had seen in camp was a band of rising mist or low cloud. As the light grew stronger, the mountain range began to glow above and in the lake. We had clear weather, all we needed now was the alpenglow to come.

We did get a little alpenglow that morning, but it wasn’t like the photos I had seen in National Geographic all those years ago. Interestingly, we got some great colour at sunrise, but the pre-dawn remained silvery.

Despite this, I love the soft light at this time of the day and, with a little help from Capture One, I was able to bring the colour out.

The original file (above) shows how the camera recorded the scene. I was using a Canon EOS 1Ds Mark II, rated at ISO 800, using a 100mm Macro lens. There are lots of lovely details in the rock faces and the rising cloud bank seems perfectly positioned – I couldn’t have asked for a better morning.

What I noticed was that there is already a good deal of red and orange in the mountain rock faces, so by increasing the colour saturation in the file, I’m able to create my own alpenglow. However, using the saturation slider alone was not the solution as you can see below.


When using the saturation slider alone, not only are the reds and yellows enhanced, so are the blues of the sky. The effect looks a little unnatural. What I want to do is increase the colour saturation in the reds and yellows without touching the blues.

This is where Capture One Pro can help. Using the Advanced Colour Editor tool, I used the Pick Color Correction tool to select the colours on the mountain face. I then increased the Smoothness to include similar colours, and then increased the Saturation slider to bring the mountain side to life.


Sometimes I will select two or three similar colours and increase the saturation of all three, but to a lesser extent individually. This produces a similar strength, but it is spread over a wider range of colours and looks a little more natural.

Peter Eastway is a professional photographer and photography magazine editor based in Sydney, Australia. To see more of his photography, visit http://www.petereastway.com/. Peter also offers an online Landscape Photography MasterClass. Details can be found at http://www.betterphotography.com/.

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In The Shadow of Mount Ararat...photography

Mount Ararat in Turkey is steeped in history and tradition. Just prior to this photo being taken, we were on a mountain opposite Ararat viewing what many believe are the remains of Noah’s Ark. If not Noah’s, it’s certainly in the shape of a huge ‘boat like’ structure, but how it came to be resting several thousand feet above the valley floor, no one could tell me!

These are Kurdish women and we assumed this was their village. The main road is behind us and we had stopped to admire the view of Mount Ararat. The air was so clear that even distant objects seemed very close.

However, just below the road, our guide Mehmet spotted these women having a chat. He walked down and started talking to them. They seemed to be friendly enough, enjoying a laugh, so I wandered down too. I sat off to the side, not able to understand a word that was said. Mehmet later explained that he didn’t understand much of their dialect either, and perhaps that was why they were all laughing so much.

Mehmet spent probably 10 minutes talking to the women before he asked if he could take a photograph (our guide is also a keen photographer).

More laughter followed and the matriarch acquiesced, but the point to take away is the process Mehmet went through.

Rather than just stumbling on these people and pulling out a camera straight away, Mehmet spent time talking to them. This is far less confrontational. Imagine if you were sitting in your front yard and some Kurdish tourists walked by and started photographing you? You mightn’t be so worried if you were in a public place like a market or a showground, but in your own home, you’d probably be a little concerned about who these people were.

By spending time talking to people, you can allay their fears. Once they knew we were a bunch of photographers from Australia, just having a holiday in Turkey, suddenly we’re no longer a threat. They know something about us.

This doesn’t necessarily mean they want us to take their photograph, of course. The woman in the background didn’t want the camera pointed at her, although she changed her mind when Mehmet offered them a small monetary thank you.

Note, we didn’t offer to pay them up front. All the photos were taken first and it was only when he was leaving that Mehmet offered the matriarch some money. He did this because he knew how tough life could be in this part of the world and he just wanted to show his appreciation.

I don’t have anything against paying to take a photograph. It’s true that it can change the nature of the relationship between the photographer and the subject, but for photographs like these, it’s not really that important. I’m not working as a documentary photographer or a photojournalist; rather I want to take an environmental portrait that shows how these women live.

However, there may be times when the subjects are used to being photographed (many people in cities and at popular tourist destinations are quite savvy) and ask for a small contribution. Personally, I think this is a fair exchange.

Everything about this scene is as we found it, the only difference is that instead of the women focusing on themselves, they are looking up at Mehmet and another photographer who is standing camera-left out of frame.  Yet by having the matriarch conversing with Mehmet, and the other women reacting, the image begins to tell a story.

As there were 10 of us taking photographs (Mehmet was quite amazing in organising this), we only had time for a few frames each. However, shooting with a wide-angle lens, I was able to position myself to the side and allow the matriarch to focus on the others while I quietly clicked away.

A wide-angle lens is often considered taboo for portraiture. The reason is because a wide-angle lens stretches subjects towards the edge of the frame, making them look fatter and heavier than they really are. However, if you don’t place your subjects on the edges of the frame, then the stretching doesn’t happen (well, it doesn’t happen to them).

In defence of the wide-angle for environmental portraiture, the expansive angle-of-view provides context for the subjects, and when you’re in an exotic location like Eastern Turkey, it’s definitely sensible to make the most of the landscape.

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