Posts Tagged papua new guinea

Dinah With Her Gobies

Bob made a print of one of my Lubricogobius dinah goby photos to give to his wife, and just forwarded me this terrific snapshot of Dinah with her namesake fish:

Dinah Halstead with photo of Dinah's gobies from Milne Bay
Dinah Halstead with pair of Dinah’s gobies from Milne Bay

The print hangs on the hook that’s just visible on the wall behind Dinah, next to a drawing by Valerie Taylor.

This picture represents the culmination of ten years of obsession for me.

I must have come across a reference to Lubricogobius dinah when Randall and Senou published a description of the species in 2000-2001, and ever since then, I’ve been hoping for an opportunity to see and photograph these adorable fish.

I met Dinah in early 2006, when she, Bob and I were on MV Chertan together for a TV project. And finally, in 2011, I succeeded in taking pretty photographs of these fish to help bring a lovely smile to Dinah’s face.

Nice.

Lighting the Black Jack B-17

One thing I forgot to describe the other day when I posted about the Black Jack B-17 wreck was the lighting tools I took down with me.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I set my camera to a high ISO in anticipation of dark conditions at a depth of 40 metres. This allowed me take photographs without using strobes.

It’s not all that apparent from the sepia-toned images I posted before, but there was a considerable amount of stuff in the water, so controlling backscatter would have been a challenge. I’m sure it would’ve been possible to take reasonably clean images with strobe light, but it would’ve taken time, which is something I didn’t have at that depth.

Instead of using strobes, I took a couple of Sola 1200 lights down, mounted on Ultralight arms in place of my strobes.

Why did I do this? To add a hint of light and colour for considerably less effort and lower risk of creating backscatter than using strobes:

Julian taking a photo of the Black Jack B-17 wreck
Julian taking a photo of the Black Jack B-17 wreck

As you can see from the photo above, the Sola 1200 lights allowed me to light Julian a bit, as well as the nose of the plane. I got some added light from Julian, who had one of my Sola 600 lights mounted on his camera, pointing at the plane.

There’s nowhere near the amount of light and colour that strobes could generate, but in this circumstance, it was a heckuva lot quicker and simpler than fiddling with strobes. There’s a lot to be said for quick-and-easy.

Here’s another photo, where I was able to isolate one of the props and get really close, concentrating both lights on a single area to bring out more colour:

Black Jack B17 bomber wreck lit with SOLA 1200
Prop of Black Jack B17 bomber wreck at 40m, lit with Sola 1200

As an unanticipated side benefit, this lighting set-up also came in handy for shooing Craig away when he cut in front of me, pointing at his camera while babbling incoherently (normal behaviour for him):

Craig Dewit with Black Jack B17 bomber
Craig asking me for photo advice at 40 metres!

I aimed the Sola lights directly for his face, mostly with the hope of getting him out of my way, but in doing so, I managed to add a nice, selective highlight to bring out his dopey expression, something that would have been more difficult to achieve with strobes.

None of this means that you should ditch your strobes! But if you find yourself in a similar situation or want to try something a bit different, this might be worth a go.

(Disclosure: Sola 1200 and Sola 600 lights provided by Scubacam and Light and Motion.)

Fish Frenzy

Following on yesterday’s post, here’s another photograph of the frenzy of orange basslets (Pseudanthias squamipinnis) at Lynda’s Reef near Nuakata Island in Milne Bay, this one with a bit of motion blur to convey the frenetic pace of activity:

Orange basslets (Pseudanthias squamipinnis) at Lynda's Reef, Nuakata
Frenzy of orange basslet activity at Lynda’s Reef

More Fish Than Water

So here’s the thing about Milne Bay province…it’s gigantic.

I’m not sure how much physical area the province comprises, but Milne Bay is a lot more than the bay itself. The province spans several major groups of islands with over 600 islands, encompassing a variety of distinct environments.

In a sense, saying that you’ve dived “Milne Bay” is meaningless. I’ve come to realise that you need to be more specific.

Toward the end of our month-long excursion, for instance, we visited several reefs around Nuakata Island. To say that on many of our aquatic forays, we saw more fish than water is but a slight exaggeration.

I took this photo at a place called Lynda’s Reef in the Nuakata area. One of the distinguishing features of the reef is an enormous formation of knobby coral. Above, around and beside this coral monument is a swarm comprising thousands (probably tens of thousands) of fish, the majority of which were beautiful little orange basslets (Pseudanthias squamipinnis). What a mind-boggling experience it was to hover among the frenzy of a myriad tangerine fish!

Swarm of Pseudanthias squamipinnis at Nuakata Island in Milne Bay province
Gazillions of fish in the waters around Nuakata Island in Milne Bay province

To the extent that most people have an impression of diving in Milne Bay, muck and critters are probably what come to mind. There is definitely terrific muck diving and critter life, but as I’ve discovered over the past month, Milne Bay province is enormous…and in many areas, the reefs are jam-packed with beautiful corals, fish and other marine life.

The reefs around Nuakata Island, for instance, were consistently fishy, teeming with not just basslets and other small piscines, but bigger stuff as well, like potato cods, trevallies, barracuda, fusiliers, Spanish mackerals, white tip reef sharks, grey reef sharks, etc., and there was a lot of plush soft coral in a range of hues from lemon-meringue yellow to strawberry-sherbet red.

This beautiful specimen is from Surprise Reef at Nuakata Island, named by Bob after a large bull shark snuck up on him in the water (It’s really not that difficult to spot a mature bull shark, but Bob’s not always the most observant guy.):

Plush soft coral, Nuakata Island, Milne Bay
Plush soft corals characterise many of the reefs around Nuakata Island

The diving around Nuakata Island made such a strong impression that I’ve decided it’s a must-do destination on its own.

For those of you who’ve been to the Eastern Fields of PNG with me, I’d put the reefs in this area at an 8+ on a scale of 1-10 with Carl’s Ultimate dive site being a 10.

I’m already laying plans to come back for a week or two just at Nuakata.

Black Jack B-17 Bomber

I’m not big on wrecks. I know a lot of people are, including many of my friends, but I’m already obsessed with marine life, and I figure one obsession is more than enough.

On the final of the three legs of this adventure however, I had to give in (sigh), and we visited a couple of wrecks, including this well-known site at Cape Vogel, where a B-17 bomber known as Black Jack sits at 40 metres.

Black Jack B-17 bomber wreck at 40 metres in Milne Bay, Papua New Guinea
Black Jack B-17 bomber wreck at 40 metres.
Bob Halstead above, Craig Dewit near the prop, Julian Cohen at the nose

Given the depth, we didn’t have much time. The visibility didn’t look all that great, so I decided to skip the strobes and just go with high ISO. Before jumping in, I took a guess and set the ISO at 2500, with f8 aperture and 1/100 shutter…which happened to work out perfectly.

The main advantage of doing this is that I didn’t have to worry about backscatter or lighting such an inherently dark scene. Also, with limited time at depth and the mind-numbing effects of narcosis, I didn’t need to worry about strobe settings, only camera settings. Had I guessed incorrectly about the exposure, it would have just required a tiny bit of fiddling to figure out what would work.

The primary disadvantage is added grain/ noise. But DSLR sensors are good enough these days that the results are perfectly acceptable to me under certain circumstances…like this one.

Finally, while the original files look decent in colour, I decided to convert these two to sepia tone to imbue the images with a vintage mood I felt appropriate for the subject.

Blackjack B-17 bomber wreck at Cape Vogel
Julian taking a photo of the Black Jack B-17 wreck

Five Years Old

Today marks five years since I posted my first entry to this blog. Time certainly flies.

I’m not sure exactly why I started this site, or what I hoped to achieve, but in hindsight, I’m happy that I struggled through my initial ignorance of most things web-related and persevered through the times when I thought: “Why bother?”.

From time-to-time, I look back at the thoughts I’ve written and media I’ve posted. I re-live the good times, have occasion to contemplate lessons learned from difficult times, and of course, take pause to be thankful for how fortunate I am.

Perhaps the biggest benefit to accrue from the time and effort I’ve invested in this site is the friends I’ve made and friends with whom I’ve re-established communication. Many of the people I first met online have since become close friends…people I look forward to seeing, sharing adventures with, or even just receiving an email from.

Right now, for instance, I’m sitting on a boat in Papua New Guinea, preparing to post the photo below of two such friends…Julian from the UK and Jenny from Taiwan. Believe it or not, I didn’t need to coax them into posing like silly tourists when we were at Gona Balu Balu in Milne Bay. It just happened.

Divers and a giant clam
Jenny, Julian, and a giant clam in Milne Bay, PNG

The way I look at it…you have to be really good friends to act like hams with a clam. Especially when I have a camera to capture evidence for posterity!

So…here’s to five fantastic fun-and-friend-filled years…and hopefully many more to come.

Dinah’s Goby

We’ve just arrived back in Alotau, after another terrific journey of exploration aboard Golden Dawn, which took us first to the Cape Vogel area, over to Goodenough Island, around Fergusson Island, through the strait between Fergusson and Normanby, and finally to the fantastic reefs around Nuakata Island.

Bob, Wen-Tsae and Eric have just left for the airport. The rest of us will be catching flights in the next day or two.

Without a doubt, one of the highlights of this trip for me was having the opportunity to see and photograph Lubricogobius dinah, an irresistibly cute yellow-and-white goby:

Pair of Dinah's gobies (Lubricogobius dinah) with their beer-bottle home, at Observation Point in Milne Bay Province, Papua New Guinea
Pair of Dinah’s gobies (Lubricogobius dinah) with their beer-bottle home,
at Observation Point in Milne Bay Province, Papua New Guinea

I can’t remember the exact circumstances under which I first came across a reference to these fish, but I’m pretty sure it was over a decade ago. What I do recall however, is my gut reaction at the time, which was something like: “I like!”, with a big, silly grin plastered across my face.

Anyway, it’s a good thing I have an obsessive personality, because it’s taken me this long to find and photograph a pair.

This fish is named after Bob’s wife Dinah, who is as nice a person as these fish are cute. When we reached a dive site known as Observation Point on Normanby Island, Bob took me down to look for several beer bottles he placed here in the past, where these gobies often take up residence.

Given how long I’ve waited to see these fish, I was anxious…anxious that we might not find any gobies, and if we did, that I might screw up the photos, as these fish are small, skittish, and live down at 30 metres or more. They have a tendency duck inside their homes at the slightest disturbance. When you’re down deep, there’s not a lot of time to twiddle thumbs while you wait.

The first bottle we checked was a blank, but the second was occupied. Bob left me at 30 metres, where I spent 40 minutes approaching fish.

If you’re a diver, you’re probably thinking, “40 minutes at 30 metres? That’s serious deco time.”

It was.

Actually, I was on a rebreather, which was a big help…first because it helped to minimise sounds associated with exhalation, and second, because it allowed me to maintain a high PPO2 and stay down longer with minimal nitrogen saturation. (Almost sounds like I know what I’m talking about, doesn’t it?). Anyway, the upshot is that without the rebreather, I would’ve been significantly more time-restricted and nitrogen-loaded, and the sound of bubbles may have kept the fish from growing comfortable with my presence.

Even with the relative silence of a rebreather, the gobies ducked into the bottle as soon as I approached, but after I waited 10 to 15 minutes, they came out again. Little-by-little I closed the distance, until I was near enough to nail a few images like this:

Super-macro shot of Dinah's goby (Lubricogobius dinah)
Super-macro shot of Dinah’s goby (Lubricogobius dinah)

[Behavioural note: When the gobies eventually grew accustomed to my presence, one (always the same individual) stayed in the bottle all the time. The other fish swam outside, often perching atop the bottle entrance, but more often, hovering five to 10 centimetres above the bottle, swimming in a slightly twitchy fashion, reminiscent of how dart gobies move. I’m not sure if anyone else has ever seen this behaviour before, as the goby only started swimming above the bottle when it seemed completely at ease with me.]

When preparing for the dive, I knew that this would be a one-time opportunity. If we found the fish, I’d have one chance, and one chance only, as we were planning to move on to another site after the dive.

With a bit of deliberation, I chose to use a super-macro set-up, because I wasn’t sure how close the gobies would allow me to approach. I figured that with a 3x teleconverter + 100mm macro lens + Canon 5D Mark II camera, I would be able to maximise image magnification, even at a considerable distance. Of course, with the loss of light from the teleconverter and the inherently dark conditions at 30m in muck, it was nearly impossible to see.

I took a Sola 600 light down with me and used the red focusing light. Fortunately, that provided sufficient illumination for me to focus manually, and the red light didn’t seem to bother the fish.

So…after 40 minutes of lying at 30 metres on the bottom of the ocean, crawling centimetre by centimetre, using a KISS rebreather, wielding a super-macro lens set-up and aiming with a Sola 600 light, I slam-dunked a series of shots I’ve been pursuing for more than 10 years…thanks, of course, to Bob’s sage advice and impeccable fish-spotting talent.

(Disclosure: Sola 600 provided by Scubacam and Light and Motion)

Shapes and Colours

Chaos reigns on healthy coral reefs, like the ones found in Papua New Guinea. A profusion of life produces a mesmerising hodgepodge of forms, patterns, nooks and crannies. Divers couldn’t ask for more; there’s so much to take in and enjoy.

But if you’re a photographer, having too much to see can be counterproductive, as visual clutter often results in a ho-hum image, one without a specific subject.

Here’s a photo tip: When presented with visual complexity, try to simplify. Look for strong colours and shapes that are easy to recognise, easy to isolate, and easy to present in an uncluttered composition.

Soft corals, for instance, make great subjects, especially if you can find some that aren’t intertwined with lots of other stuff, like this scene I came across on a dive yesterday at a site in Milne Bay called Sullivan’s Patches:

Colourful soft coral at Sullivan's Patches in Milne Bay
Colourful soft coral at Sullivan’s Patches in Milne Bay

Having stark colours and contrast side-by-side like this immediately draws your viewer’s attention.

Try looking for interesting shapes and combinations of shapes as well. Also at Sullivan’s Patches, I came across this intriguing formation with a mushroom leather coral perched perfectly atop a globe-like coral that had a jagged cleft in it for character. Those two elements alone got my attention, but what sealed the deal for me was the squiggly little wire coral at the bottom that looks somewhat like a piglet’s curled-up tail.

Each coral alone isn’t terribly interesting. Viewed together however, they acquire new meaning, transforming into something akin to a floral arrangement…an aquatic still-life, of sorts.

Interesting coral formation, with a squiggly little pigtail for emphasis
Interesting coral formation, with a squiggly little pigtail for emphasis

At Hornbill Channel a few days ago, the visibility was so-so, but there were a lot of elephant-ear sponges in an assortment of shapes and sizes. Swimming from one to the next, I came across the unusual specimen pictured below, which provided both colour contrast and symmetry…

Symmetrically shaped yellow elephant-ear sponge at Hornbill Channel
Symmetrically shaped yellow elephant-ear sponge at Hornbill Channel

…as well as this one, which looked to me like it belonged in an art gallery, or perhaps even a museum of modern art:

Nature produces amazing works of art, like this elephant-ear sponge that looks like a sculpture
Nature produces amazing works of art,
like this elephant-ear sponge that looks like a sculpture

My point…by all means enjoy the reef’s complexities and subtleties, but keep an eye out for simple forms and striking colours, which make perfect photo subjects.

On that note, we’re heading out again today for the final leg of this three-part adventure, so I’ll be offline again for a while.

Pearls Before Swine

Craig and Bob. Poor Macs…sigh.

Craig Dewit and Bob Halstead
Quintessential depiction of the saying: “Pearls Before Swine”

Black and Silver

One of my favourite dives during the second leg of this trip was at a place called Black and Silver. It was my first visit.

The visibility happened not to be so good on the day of our stop at the site, but I liked the reef so much that I stayed in the water for nearly three hours….during which time, everyone else dived, went back to the boat, took a break, geared up again, got in the water and finished a second dive, then had breakfast. Yup…I have an obsessive personality.

Among the highlights was a lacy scorpionfish that Bob found. The fish wasn’t too deep, so everyone had a chance to take photos.

Lacy scorpionfish (Rhinopias aphanes) at Black and Silver
Bob found this lacy scorpionfish (Rhinopias aphanes) at Black and Silver

At one point, I looked over my shoulder and saw a group of jacks, several really big barracudas, and a school of smaller barracudas milling about in the current. The jacks were swimming too far, too fast, while the larger barracudas were a haphazard lot..not coalescing into any reasonable formation.

I decided to give the school of smaller barracuda my undivided attention, which is how I ended up swimming to and fro, up and down, around and around the reef…all in pursuit of a pretty picture, as other fish and divers looked on in amusement, no doubt tinged with a hint of bewilderment.

In the end, I got quite a workout, along with a few images of the barracuda lined-up for a nice family portrait.

School of barracuda at Black and Silver
School of barracuda at Black and Silver

The dive site is reasonably big, and there was a lot I didn’t get to explore. If conditions permit, I’m sure we’ll pay this reef another visit on our upcoming itinerary.

Skull Caves

As our intrepid group of adventurers trudged up a jungle path in sweltering tropical heat and humidity yesterday, I remarked to fellow traveller Julian that I find myself in unusual situations so often that it’s become a normal part of life. In this instance, the “unusual situation” was a visit to a cave filled with human skulls.

Back in the day, when tribal/ village rivalries in this region were settled primarily through direct confrontation, chopping off heads of the vanquished was apparently the social norm. In many places, such battle trophies were thrown into caves like the one pictured here for safekeeping.

One of two skull caves at Hiliwau in Milne Bay, Papua New Guinea
One of two skull caves at Hiliwau in Milne Bay, Papua New Guinea

I’m not sure if anyone knows how old the skulls are, but judging from the fact that the interminably slow drip of ground water seeping through the cave’s ceiling have formed mineral deposits encasing some of the bone fragments…they’ve been there quite a long time, probably hundreds or perhaps thousands of years.

Though it’s chilling in a way to see a place like this, the experience also offered an insight into human nature, as well as an opportunity to reflect on how far we’ve advanced…or not.

That’s Captain Craig in the background, with an appropriately contemplative expression on his face, doing his wannabe-Indiana-Jones thing.

Friendly Fish Faces

For our final day of this second of three cruises aboard MV Golden Dawn in Papua New Guinea, we dived at a mucky area called Waga Waga, which is across the bay from Alotau.

From previous visits, I recalled that there was an interesting variety of gobies that made their home near the wreck, so I decided to go with a super macro set up.

Specifically, I used my Canon 100mm lens stacked with a Kenko 3x teleconverter; a Sola 600 focus light to help me find/ see my subjects; and two Inon S-2000 strobes to keep my rig as light as possible.

Close-up of a Vanderhorstia sp. goby at Waga Waga in Milne Bay
Close-up of a Vanderhorstia sp. goby at Waga Waga in Milne Bay

Using a focus light helps a lot, as you’ll need to achieve critical focus on the eye, which is sort of like being Luke shooting a missile down that ridiculously small hole in the Death Star. It takes a bit of luck, a lot of concentration, and plenty of muttering under your breath.

For this purpose, the Sola 600 is a perfect size to sit on top of my camera. I really like using the red light function, which imparts some colour contrast for a smidgeon of extra help discerning lines and edges. (Disclosure: Sola 600 provided by Scubacam and Light and Motion). I chose Inon S-2000 lights because they’re compact and light, while providing plenty of light for macro photography.

If you try taking photographs like this with a DSLR, you’ll need to use manual focus, as teleconverters reduce incoming light levels in a big way. In this instance, murky water and overcast skies made focusing even more of a challenge.

Cryptocentrus cinctus shrimp goby
I think this is a Cryptocentrus cinctus shrimp goby

Gobies are generally skittish fish. You would probably be on-edge be as well if you were subject to the constant possibility of being made into a mid-morning snack by a larger animal.

But…it’s actually not too difficult to approach gobies if you keep a few things in mind.

First, descending from above rarely works. You should get low to the ground, preferably lying on the sand or rubble. Obviously, you should make sure you don’t crush anything in doing so, but fortunately, shrimp gobies often make their homes in places where nothing else lives.

Second, control your breathing so that you don’t spew bubbles all at once. If you exhale in a sudden manner, you create a series of explosive sound waves that smack the fish in a manner similar to the shocking sensation you’d experience if a squadron of supersonic jets buzzed you at close quarters while doing Mach 5.

Rayed shrimp goby (Tomiyamichthys sp.)
Rayed shrimp goby (Tomiyamichthys sp.) in almost the exact
same place I found one five and a half years ago

Get your camera and strobe settings right before you approach. To do this, try aiming at a rock or some other inanimate object of similar size and colour to get everything just right while you’re still some distance from the goby in question.

When you approach, do so slowly, centimetre by centimetre. As you crawl toward the fish, you can be sure that the goby is watching you, so be considerate. Stop and return the favour from time to time. Sit and watch for a while without moving, so the fish has time to adjust to your presence.

In many cases, gobies will get nervous and dart back into their burrows in spite of your best efforts to mimic an innocuous rock, but every once in a while, you’ll get a cooperative fish, and you’ll soon find yourself within reasonable shooting distance.

Amblyeleotris sp. shrimp goby
Amblyeleotris sp. shrimp goby giving me attitude

Finally, it pays to study fish body-language and behaviour. Shrimp gobies, for instance, twitch their tails when they’re nervous. They do this to warn their blind-shrimp companions of possible danger. So if you sense twitchiness, freeze and make like a boring coral head until the fish gives the shrimp the all-clear sign.

Note: My goby IDs are tentative. If you spot a mistake, please let me know.