The upcoming new moon marks the beginning of the Year of the Rabbit. And even though the lunar new year is still officially a few days away, it’s already pretty much holiday/ festive time in many communities throughout Asia.
So…happy new year to everyone from me and my shadow-puppet-master sea slug friend!
Another nudibranch I’ve had a difficult time photographing in a unique manner in the past is this one, a Jorunna rubescens:
If you Google “Jorunna rubescens” and look at the Images section, most of the photos are nondescript, lacking a “Wow!” factor. That’s not for a dearth of people trying to take nice photographs. It’s just darn difficult to make this nudi look like much.
Totomega lens to the rescue again!
I’ve always referred to this sea slug as “the puppy dog nudibranch”, since the resemblance is obvious, at least to me. Not everyone got the reference though, so now I have a series of photographs to back up my nudi nomenclature.
Incidentally, I misidentified this nudibranch earlier, when I posted a photograph of a juvenile Jorunna. Ron Silver was kind enough to send me a note letting me know that the name was amended in 2002 from Kentrodoris rubescens (my original ID) to Jorunna rubescens. Thank you Ron!
This is the final photograph I captured of this sea slug species while I was in Ambon:
Look carefully, and you’ll see a confused crustacean cast in the role of a chew toy…just to round out the metaphor.
As long as I’m on the topic of nudibranchs, here are a couple of photos of a Spanish dancer (Hexabranchus sanguineus) I came across during one of the night dives in Ambon:
These supersized sea slugs (this one was 30+cm) are beautiful animals, but I’ve never taken a photograph that I like of a Spanish dancer. I’m not sure why, but I think one reason is that it’s difficult to portray them in a unique way.
If you Google “Spanish dancer nudibranch” and look at the Images section, you’ll see what I mean.
Most photos make this nudibranch look either like a floppy red doormat or some sort of vaguely internal-organ-like twisty thing suspended against a background of black or blue.
With the Totomega lens, I finally had a chance to do something different.
It took me a while to figure out how to depict the scarlet sea slug in an unusual manner…the challenge exacerbated by the oversized nudibranch’s restlessness…but investing a bit of time to work out the angles and lighting resulted in a couple of keepers that I’m really happy with.
While I was in Ambon, I spent most, but not all, of my time with the Totomega lens. On many dives, I carried a normal 100mm macro lens with me as well, which I turned to whenever I came across decent-sized nudibranchs like the ones below.
If you’re a nudibranch fan, there are a lot(!) in Ambon Bay. Some are normal-size like these, but during my recent visit, there seemed to be many, many juvenile nudis, a number of which were barely the size of a grain of rice…if that.
I wasn’t in the mood to squint, so I generally passed those by, but some of my friends from Thailand took excellent photos of some truly unusual Lilliputian sea slugs. So if you’re good at searching through rubble, it’s worth keeping an eye out for the teeny-tiny nudibranchs in Ambon.
I really love the following photo, because it’s usually difficult to make Kentrodoris nudibranchs (which I refer to as puppy dog nudis) look good. [Note: Kentrodoris rubescens was renamed Jorunna rubescens in 2002. Thanks Ron!]
We found this juvenile in really shallow water (I think it was less than 5m) at the end of a dive. It happily sat on its perch, graciously affording each of us some private portrait time.
This Chromodoris nudi and others like it are pretty common all around the Indo-Pacific, so many people overlook them. I tried to impart a sense of glamour to an otherwise humdrum subject with a bit of dramatic lighting, sort of a film noir look:
Some of my friends from Thailand are working on a book about nudibranchs, and Rani assigned me the “homework” of taking a pretty photograph of a Phyllidia nudibranch for her.
This was, of course, after I told her that I don’t like Phyllidia nudibranchs and that I’ve never taken a photograph of one, because, well…they’re boring lumps that just sit there and look stiff.
I can’t refuse helping my friends though, so on my last dive with them, I settled down to photograph the nudibranch below.
As luck would have it, I may have found the only Phyllidia nudibranch in the world that travels non-stop at lightning speed (for a nudibranch). Seriously!
Every other Phyllidia I can recall ever seeing just sat there doing nothing, and the one time I want to take a photo of one, it crawled all over the rubble, ducking in-an-out of crevices, moving up-and-down the slope, twisting and turning, making sudden dashes, etc. Sheesh.
Anyway, here’s my one and only, first and last, photograph of a Phyllidia:
They still look like dull lumps to me.
Have you ever noticed delicate bubble-like things clinging to the bottom of reef and muck sites, usually swaying with the current and looking like not much of anything?
I must’ve swum past hundreds, if not thousands of these…all the time wondering what they were. I confess to having poked a few every now and then to see if anything interesting might happen, but nothing ever did…until Lembeh last month.
After so many years of seeing so many bubbles doing so much of nothing, I saw dozens of these bubbles with what appeared to be aeolid nudibranchs inside them.
In the photo above, you can see at least three nudibranchs inside the bubble, one in the foreground and two behind.
At first, I was just surprised to find something inside one of these bubbles. After looking around a bit and finding many more bubbles with sea slugs inside, I started wondering what the nudibranchs were doing.
We came up with all sorts of theories…ranging from “laying eggs” to “eating the bubbles” and everything in between.
As it turned out, Mean was able to find a reference online, which seems to have solved the mystery. According to well-known nudibranch authority Bill Rudman, the aeolid nudibranchs appear to be feeding on the eggs of some sort of polychaete worm. Bill has tentatively identified the nudibranchs as Favorinus sp.
One of the things that confused me at first was that some of the nudibranchs appeared to be laying eggs, as you can see in this photo:
I think the white stringy stuff above the nudibranch are eggs that the nudibranch laid (I have other photos that seem to show a trail of eggs coming out of the nudibranch).
It seems that the nudibranchs, in some instances at least, might be laying eggs of their own as well as eating those that make up the bubbles they’re feeding on. Cool, huh?
Even more intriguing…some of the nudibranchs I came across were really, really small…begging the question of whether they had perhaps recently hatched and subsequently consumed the eggs inside their host bubbles.
Going through the process of observing the nudibranchs, coming up with theories about what the opistobranchs were doing, and then confirming our theories online was an incredibly interesting and satisfying process.
But what’s bothering me now is why…after all these years of looking and seeing nothing…we suddenly saw so many of these nudibranchs-in-bubbles over the course of a few days.
I’m on my way to the airport soon. It’s difficult to overstate how productive and enjoyable my trip to the Lembeh Strait has been, thanks to the great companionship of the many people who joined me here, the generous hospitality of Kasawari-Lembeh Resort and Lembeh Hills Resort, and of course, the fantastic critters of Lembeh.
Despite the fact that I posted photos at least once a day during my stay, there are still a lot of images and stories I haven’t been able to share.
But before I head out, here’s one more image…of a Gymnodoris impudica nudibranch with only a single rhinophore in the middle of its head…an underwater unicorn.
It’s been around for the entire duration of my stay, so if you’re visiting Lembeh and dive Jahir, keep an eye out around for this single-minded sea slug.
I sometimes hear voices in my head while I’m observing marine life…particularly when the water is frigid and I’m feeling the effects of hypothermia.
Yesterday, I saw these two Hypselodoris infucata nudibranchs, a teensy little one along with a much larger individual.
They were both grazing on a rock, and over the course of perhaps ten to twenty minutes, I watched as the big one put some distance between itself and the little slug.
The small one took notice at a belated juncture, and dashed off (at a snail’s pace…literally), almost as if trying to catch up.
It was at this point that I heard a discussion ensue between these two invertebrates…primarily the little one screaming “Wait for me!” while the big one just grunted.
The little nudibranch took a wrong turn, however, and ended up on a high cliff (from its point of view)…staring out over the chasm that separated it from the other nudibranch.
It was heart-wrenching.
And even more odd (as if this post could get any stranger), the little nudi’s voice that I heard was a high-pitched manga-esque Japanese voice (think…Sailor Moon).
I think perhaps I need to seek professional help.
Here’s a head-scratcher for Sunday morning.
If you cut a nudibranch in half straight down the middle, will it survive?
Apparently, the answer is yes.
I came across this 50% nudibranch (tentatively Discodoris sp.) during an evening dive several days ago. Other than the fact that it looks like it was either sliced in half or perhaps born that way, this sea slug was completely happy, crawling along the bottom doing its usual nudibranch thing.
Odd, no?
Then there was this flounder, which we encountered on a different night dive.
The posterior half of this fish is all white. At first glance, I thought something had attacked it and stripped the fish’s skin. Perhaps something did skin this fish, but upon reflection, it seems more likely that it was just born this way…since the white area looks exactly like the skin that’s normally on the underside of a flounder (i.e., white, textured, without the camouflage).
Like the nudibranch, this fish seemed perfectly happy going about its business, unperturbed by its lack of camouflage for half its body.
The Lembeh Strait is a tough place for marine animals. There are predators lurking in every nook and cranny, under the sand, and swimming above.
In this context, it’s amazing to come across two such animals…one missing a half and the other with half totally exposed.
Crabs are comical. There’s no doubt about it.
Following on the crab/ pipehorse test of wills I saw two nights ago, last night I watched as a crab and nudibranch matched wits.
From the outset, I had little doubt that the crab would come out the better of the two, but it was still a lot of fun to watch this mini-drama unfold.
It all started when I saw a nudibranch (Marionia pustulosa) making its way across the bottom. We’ve seen a lot of these nudis recently, so I didn’t give it much thought, and I was about to swim by…when I noticed something ambling across the sea bottom toward the nudibranch.
Within seconds, I watched as a crab walked in front of the nudibranch and grabbed the unsuspecting sea slug’s rhinophores to pull it down to a more crab-friendly level. The crafty crustacean proceeded to mount…yes, to mount…the nudibranch.
Of course, no self-respecting opistobranch wants to be seen in public with an unattractive accessory like this crab (much less to have its photo taken with one), so the hapless nudibranch resisted.
The besieged sea slug took off at top speed (for a nudibranch), but the nimble crab quickly changed strategy. It grabbed on from the side as the nudibranch sped away (again at top nudibranch velocity) and clambered atop the fleeing slug.
Once astride the nudibranch, the crab sat back(ward) and rode off into the proverbial sunset (there was, of course, no sunset, since it was just after 22:00 and underwater, but the mental image makes for a nice ending).
I’ve just landed in Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea, and have a couple of days before I get on MV Golden Dawn. Haven’t slept much over the past 72 hours, so in theory, I should crash, but I’m too wired to sleep, and I have an enormous backlog of correspondence and work, as well as scientific documents to read (that should put me to sleep!).
Anyway, while I’m in this semi-conscious, semi-zombie state, I thought it might be worth elaborating a bit more on the vision theme.
I wrote about this topic in my recent article in Wetpixel Quarterly and also in my King Kong crab post a couple of days ago.
In essence, one of the main points I try to get across in workshops, trips with other people and such, is that sometimes what you see is more important than what’s actually there.
Here’s an example of what I mean:
Similar to the thought process I outlined in my post about the King Kong crab, this photo is more of a “this is what I want you to see” than “this is what I saw” image.
What I actually saw was a cute little nudibranch sitting in good afternoon light. What I wanted you to see was a majestic, almost magical animal that popped out from a dark, somewhat ominous Lembeh-esque background.
Whether I succeeded or not is a matter of interpretation, but my point is that if you want to take original photos, it’s often worth pausing to consider the artistic possibilities.
Had I placed one strobe to the right, one strobe to the left, set appropriate shutter, aperture and ISO for a technically correct exposure, no doubt I would have taken a nice photo of an attractive nudibranch, but that’s more of a technical exercise than an artistic endeavour.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with taking technically spot-on, accurate images. You need to be able to do that without even thinking about it.
But occasionally, when circumstances permit (such as with a non-moving nudibranch), it’s nice to challenge yourself to see something that other people might not see…and then show them.
Oh…one other thing. Nine times out of 10, when I try something different, it doesn’t turn out the way I wanted, or ends up not looking as nice as I envisioned. Sometimes that’s due to a bad concept; other times, it’s because I wasn’t able to work out technical execution. Doesn’t really matter though, because the one time out of 10 that everything works…I end up with something I really like.
In short…you can’t get to the one without going through the first nine.
Doug, a friend in Hong Kong, sent me this photograph.
According to him:
“Just outside the Wellcome supermarket near my wife’s sister’s place in Hong Kong are about a dozen of those Japanese-style vending machines that give out little toys in balls. Most were full of the usual sort of robots, dolls and gaudy keychains (which of course are all great!), but there was one there selling miniature toy nudibranchs. My daughter insisted on buying one (after seeing your photos a year or two back she did a show and tell on nudibranchs), and she ended up with Thecacera pennigera“.
Doug ended his email with:
“By the way, note the use of abundant window light in the photograph and the completely natural pose of the animal resting on a plastic stand on a desk, the native environment for this particular creature, which it is particularly well adapted to. I have been trying to catch it feeding but it is extremely secretive and I have never even seen it move!”
Of course, I was delighted to read about his little girl taking an interest in the ocean…but I can’t help but get the feeling that Doug is making fun of me!
By the way, here’s a real Thecacera pennigera, feeding on a bryozoan nonetheless…take that Doug!
The week has been totally chaotic…running around Bangkok, meeting friends, attending meetings…and making time for truly important stuff like (lots of) mango with sticky rice.
Things are finally settling down a bit, so I’m going to pick up again with some images from Ambon, starting with a few nudibranchs to illustrate the concept of lighting nuance.
First, take a look at this photo:
It’s an unusual nudibranch (Flabellina bilas), at least for me, since it’s the first time I’ve ever seen one of these. I like this image because the nudibranch is doing something…crawling from one lump of stuff to another, and also because it has funky paddle-like appendages.
The lighting for this picture is pretty standard though: two strobes…one left, one right…nothing terribly innovative. I chose this configuration because it’s safe (i.e., I knew I could nail the shot) and also because I thought the nudibranch was a sufficiently interesting subject without trying for anything particularly creative.
Look what happens, however, when I use hard, directional lighting:
This is a nudibranch (Ceratosoma sinuatum) I’ve seen before (actually, on my first visit to Ambon), so I felt like I should play around a bit and try to do something more than hit it with normal lighting.
If you take a closer look, you’ll see that there’s relatively more light coming from front left than any other direction, thus creating shadows…and also, that the light comes in at a low angle…creating hard, distinct lines.
Think of late afternoon sunlight, and you’ll get the idea.
The reason I did this (besides just for the sake of having fun) was the background. There’s yellow-orange on the nudibranch, and there’s a similar colour in the background. Shadows and strongly defined lines help to separate the nudibranch from the background…complementing the three-quarter, face-on perspective.
Next is an example of nearly the complete opposite…soft, diffuse lighting:
Why go soft and squishy here? Well…the background was incredibly cluttered, but perhaps more importantly, this is a really ho-hum normal nudibranch (Chromodoris sp.). There are probably a billion (give or take) photos of this and other similar nudibranchs taken with normal lighting. In other words, taking yet another normal photo would pose no challenge and add no value.
Hence soft focus + soft lighting…which gives the photo an ethereal, dreamy quality that makes even this no-so-special nudibranch look nice.
Finally, here’s a nudibranch (Thecacera picta) portrait taken with pinpoint lighting, a technique I’ve been working on for some time now:
The lighting emphasis is almost entirely on the face (specifically the mouth area) of the nudibranch…because this one is feeding. It’s eating the bryozoan or whatever it’s perched upon.
Thecacera nudis aren’t too rare in Indonesia, so applying unique lighting creates a different feel for a relatively common subject. I don’t recall ever seeing a Thecacera portrayed in this manner, so of course, there’s a measure of personal satisfaction involved too.
The message in all this rambling? The quality, as well as the quantity, of light you use significantly affects the way your subjects, and hence your photos, appear.
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