I’ve updated a blog post made a long time ago, and included a few more pictures and discussion about the areas noted. I thought it was appropriate as I’m beginning to make plans for the summer photography season, and I’ll likely include all four of these destinations in one fashion or another in 2010. See the post here: Your favorite place to photograph?

I’ve been reviewing some files from the summer, and thought I’d share this image of Cascade glacier, taken from a rock island prominence in Barry Arm, in Alaska’s Prince William Sound. The sedimentary layers reveal and amazing pattern of lines and the surface rock has been ground quite smoothly from the ancient work of an overlying glacier. It is a present look and a window into the past. I’ll be leaving for Antarctica soon, and there I will be seeing glaciers of a whole new magnitude!

Nellie Juan Glacier in western Prince William Sound is a magical place, and remains one of my favorite destinations in all my years of travel to the Sound. The Glacier is fed by the Sargent Ice Field above, and often harbors chilly winds that blown down over the ice and into the Lagoon. This day was remarkably warm, perhaps because I was running and climbing all over the granite ridges that surround the lagoon. The traction on this rock is amazing, with a good pair of rubber boots. The only caveat is avoiding the wet areas (and there are a lot of them where water drains) which are slippery, and the view shows that the fall could be a bit precarious including a chilly finish.

I saw this composition just near the end of the day on my way down the rock face, and the sun was vanishing in a matter of seconds. I made a quick exposure setting on manual and shot a few frames, then the sun vanished behind the clouds.  If I had more time, I would have set the exposure to 1/125 sec at f/16 or so for a little more starburst element, but there is just enough there as it is. The amazing dynamic range intrinsic to one single exposure on a Canon RAW file makes a photo like this possible. I split the exposure value so I could recover enough of the shadows in the rocks, realizing the sun would be slightly blown out. I no longer use split graduated neutral density filters for reasons worth discussing in another post. If I had more time and a tripod, I would have made two exposures and blended them appropriately to expand the dynamic range even further.

On a short excursion in Prince William Sound (courtesy of Discovery Voyages), a group of us basked in the sunshine on a tremendous hike through the lush and verdant hillsides of Western Prince William Sound and the Chugach National Forest. It was an area I longed to trek in given a clear day. The granite ridges offer spectacular hiking, and views to match. Progress for me hit immediate reduction as photographic opportunities encompassed my peripheral vision. After slowly ascending the ridge, fog began to creep up the hillside. Creep perhaps is not the best word, as it happened rather quickly. While up high, I captured a few cool shots, but it was very difficult to grab the scope of that view in a camera lens. In a short time, I was a few thousand feet up immersed in fog, rather than go higher, I conceded to a decent against my preferred wishes. The direction was obvious–down, but there are many cliffs and inaccessible routes along the way. I had my IPhone GPS and compass, but did not need to use them.  The group that was ahead of me had a much longer and circuitous route down to the shore in the thick fog.

The Columbia glacier in Prince William Sound has been receeding rapidly for many years, and all the chunks of ice in this photo are trapped in a tidal lake by an old glacial morraine.  Its truly a wild place to explore and walk around. I took this picutre after climbing on top of another large iceberg, as vertical perspective was hard to get at eye level down amongst all the large chuncks of ice. The big icebergs here are much larger than your average vehicle, to give you a little sense of scale. The evening sidelight offers some interesting dimension to this scene, quite a contrast compared to shooting to the right, which had interesting geography, but just boring front light.

Harlequin ducks inhabit Prince William sound in large numbers, often in flocks exceeding a hundred birds. Since the Exxon Oil spill of 1989, studies have sought to determine the long term damage of oil contaminants to this species. They are know to return to the same feeding grounds each year, thus increasing their risk should that feeding area contain sustained oil contamination.

In early May, the ducks congregate in large groups to feed along the shores, favoring mussels and other goodies. They are a skittish duck, and getting close to them in a skiff is a challenge. With many failed attempts, I did get a few shots of the birds, most often just taking flight. Hand holding a 700mm lens in a small moving skiff, while panning a quickly flying bird is part science, part art, and part luck, especially using auto focus on such a small portion of the frame. The Drakes (males) are beautifully marked birds, and their clown-like markings are in accord with their name. The veritcal frame is a crop from a horizontal shot.

Surprisingly, sea otters are larger than they may appear.  Most often one sees their cute, whiskered faces peering from the water as they playfully groom or feed on shellfish. But when they are viewed completely out of the water, as in this photo of otters on a floating iceberg, their size is considerable. A mature animal can weigh up to 90 pounds, and they sport one of the finest coats of fur in the animal kingdom. Some sea otters in Western Prince William sound have grown familiar with motor vessels, and are therefore fairly tolerant to a close approach—that is, as long as you don’t stop. These two were photographed just after the sun went behind the mountains, and therefore the flat but rather balanced light.

While flying over the Copper River Delta in south central, Alaska, I grabbed a few frames of Harbor seals hauled out on a sand shoal along the river delta. They were pretty densely packed together and I was curious as to how many were present in the picture.

Field biologists have methods for counting and estimating populations by observation, and it does not included counting every single animal! However, if there is someone industrious out there who wants to chime in, I’m curious how many are in this frame. I included a tight crop just to show the animals a little better. My rough guess is that about 1000+ seals are in the full-frame shot. There were many more on adjacent and surrounding shores and ice ridges that had yet to melt.

If you are a bird, the condition of your feathers means everything. And so the process of preening is a continual one. It is also at this stage that a bird can ingest oil and other contaminants that may adhere to their feathers in polluted waters.

This Surfbird (Aphriza virgata), was one of thousands along the shores of Montague Island in Prince William Sound. The birds stop along these shores during their spring migration north to feed along the rich intertidal zone. Surfbirds like the little mussels and other biota at the water’s edge.  I took the two above frames laying on the beach with my 500mm lens and a 1/4 converter.

What was amazing to me was the perfectly cryptic coloration of the birds. If they were not moving, you would never know they were on the beach, blending in perfectly with the stones, barnacles, and seaweed.  Believe it or not there are well over 100 birds in this picture.

I’ve spent the last two weeks photographing in the Prince William Sound region with a primary focus on the birds migrating through the area at this time of year.  Eight days were spent on the MV Discovery, owned by Dean Rand of Discovery Voyages. I met Dean while working on the Exxon Valdez Oil spill and since then, have been on many voyages with him. I’m indebted to his tremendous generosity, as much of my imagery from Prince William Sound was taken during trips with him. His website is worth a visit.

This bald eagle was perched on a floating iceberg that calved off the Columbia glacier.  The shot was taken from the bow, hand held, in AI servo auto focus mode. You are never really sure how close you can approach in these instances, so I had a lot of magnification (700mm).  As we got closer, I realized that I had too much power, but did not want to risk removing my teleconverter for fears that I’d miss the lift off shot in the process. As the second image reveals, being at 500mm would have been perfect.

There is a lot going in a shot like this. The boat is moving, the iceberg is moving, and the bird is moving.  Hand holding a 700mm in a stable position, at least for me, makes it difficult to accurately try to manual focus–which is a challenge in its own right. So, I tried to pick a focus point that was compositionally acceptable.  Tracking the bird then becomes more about auto focus accuracy than composition–the unfortunate downside of auto-focus. Additionally, the wings of a bald eagle are huge, and this becomes very apparent when it goes from a sitting position to a full wing spread. I set my exposure manually so it would not be thrown off by the bright white of the ice or darkness of the bird.  Boy would I like another chance at that shot!