Photo-tours – Page 5 – Peter Cairns Photography Blog

Wild Wild West!

Posted on October 14, 2011October 17, 2011 by Peter Cairns1 Comment

Sometimes, just sometimes, words (and pictures for that matter) are just not enough. “Can we just stand and look?” came the request from two ladies on our recent Wild Wild West tour to Lewis and Harris. We were perched high above a remote beach with an angry sea boiling beneath us. Occasionally the sun pierced the bank of scudding clouds, lighting the bay and painting the crest of each rolling wave yellow. It was, as they say just across the Atlantic, awesome. But standing and looking is just not on when there are pictures to be taken. Oh no, we were having none of that fluffy nonsense on a Northshots tour.

There is definitely something about islands and yes, the weather can be rough out here on the edge, but for a photographer, it’s a tiny price to pay for a slice of solitude and some truly spectacular vistas. Wildness for me is like a drug; I just have to get a regular fix and it doesn’t get any better than staring out across a sea that stretches almost beyond our limited imagination. Sharing the experience with a truly great bunch of guests…well, it’s just the business.

From our cosy and welcoming base at the Harris Hotel in Tarbert (thanks for the recommendation Paul), we explored all four corners of both Lewis and Harris taking in remote windswept beaches, rocky headlands pounded by the Atlantic, and of course the famous Callanish Stones. For one of our days, the rain was more persistent than usual but we found sanctuary in a charming deserted croft house followed by coffee and cake at Skoon Art Cafe, a perfect respite from the inevitable Hebridean squalls.

We all got pictures of course and I hope you like the images above, but do you know what, our two guests, Julie and Sue were right. It’s the images that have etched themselves on our minds that will persist long after the photographs have lost their appeal. Standing and looking is no bad thing.

Thanks to the Wild West bunch of 2011. If you’d like to join us next spring when we return to the Wild Wild West (and I have to say, I think you should), you can book here

No such thing as bad weather.

Posted on September 23, 2011 by Peter Cairns2 Comments

I was recently giving thought to the onset of autumn – and then winter – and the roller-coaster of weather we’ll inevitably be dished up. I’ve always been a fan of ostensibly ‘bad’ weather although over the years, I’ve struggled to find people who share such a view. I was buoyed therefore on reading a recent blog post by colleague Bruce Percy, who’s difficulty in filling his winter landscape workshops on Harris & Skye, reveals an apparent widespread reluctance to photographing during the ‘dark months’. As Bruce says – and I agree with him – photographing on the edge of dynamic weather systems is often the most rewarding.

Inaweek or so I’ll be headed off to Harris myself with a group of guests who have ‘seen the light’. I’m sure we’re all hoping for a nice bit of sunny weather to reveal the turquoise Hebridean sea as we sit eating our lunch, but at the same time, I’m hoping for changeable weather providing exciting light. Yes it might rain. I guess it could even snow, but in between, there’s change and that’s when it all happens.

Perhaps we all need to re-arrange our photographic thought processes and spend the ‘good months’ processing the images from the time we spend on the edge during autumn and winter. It can be an unforgiving edge but ‘bad weather’ is only bad for those who aren’t prepared to embrace it.

Does a suicidal gannet constitute a ‘Wildlife Workshop’?

Posted on September 14, 2011 by Peter Cairns3 Comments

In the second of our special reports from Arctic Norway, correspondent John Cumberland philosophises about philosophy in a philosophical manner.

Location: Still in Svalbard, still August ’11

Floating about in the Zodiac, before Pete’s ‘cold shower’ moment, I was deeply moved by the pinky – brownie – diffused – ethereal light, which softly bathed the nearby icebergs. The serenity, the calm green water, the rich brown hills overlooking the enormous fjord, the crisp stripes of mist which wreathed around and in between them, the shafts of pale golden light sneaking between the peaks, our home, the M/S Origo, conveniently moored at the ‘golden mean’ for a perfectly composed shot. It was a landscape photographer’s heaven.

“This is an excellent landscape workshop” I commented to Pete. In a miffed tone he snapped: “This is a wildlife trip, we start landscapes in the autumn,” (it had been a while since we saw our last polar bear; he was tetchy). Now, we all love Glen Affric in its autumn finery, there is no doubt that it is a beautiful place, but this landscape, rather, icescape, is something else.

Pete twitched. “Fast starboard” he assertively instructed Captain Dan, our Zodiac driver. “Now slow, very slow”. We all strained to see what he was focused on. All I could see were kittiwakes. Now I like kittiwakes as much as the next man but they were hardly cause for the intense concentration that Pete was now displaying. He reached over the side (no, not yet, that was later) and promptly plucked a dead gannet from the water, holding it up triumphantly. It has to be said that it was a healthy-looking dead gannet, but definitely dead. You could tell. Yes, nice but dead.

“It’s a visual metaphor for life and death in the Arctic” said a philosophical Pete. “You should photograph it with its head pointing towards the hills.” (The word ‘metaphor’ was heard several times during this trip. I think it is part of the ‘Philosophy Module’, which comes free with Northshots photo-tours. Excellent value!)

I think by this time we’d spent too long at sea. As various members of our team leaned precariously over the side composing the dead gannet shot, Swedish Captain Dan (not a man renowned for his humour) piped up. “It reminds me of the Monty Python dead parrot sketch”. We all looked at Dan, then at each other.

‘Why is it here?’ asked one of our team.

‘It came here to commit suicide’ said an authoritative Captain Dan, even more surprisingly. Again, we looked at each other and pondered.

We saw what he was getting at. After all, it was a ‘Scandinavian Gannet’ and they do that kind of thing in Scandinavia, don’t they? It’s the long, dark winters. S.A.D. syndrome they call it…and too much Schnapps. They commit suicide. And so do their gannets.

We returned to the Origo with dead gannet pictures in the can. Pete was happy we’d seen the potential in a sopping wet dead bird, Dan was satisfied that his suspicions of our madness had been confirmed and we all enjoyed coffee and chocolate brownies. The gannet had not died in vain.

This was John Cumberland, Northshots News, The Arctic. Again.

Cairns finally goes over the edge!

Posted on September 8, 2011 by Peter Cairns12 Comments

A report from our Arctic correspondent, John Cumberland.

Location: Svalbard: August ’11.

We’re happily bobbing around in our Zodiac in the middle of an Arctic fjord against a backdrop of three colossal glaciers that ‘calve’ noisily and create mini tsunamis with blue icebergs the size of articulated lorries, bouncing around and sometimes rolling over. The water beneath us is a gorgeous shade of aquamarine and a chilly 1⁰C.

Pete, one of our so-called ‘expert’ guides, is in ‘Viking mode’ sitting on the prow of our flimsy vessel enthusiastically searching out a seal here, a bird there, was that a bear in the distance? Then suddenly, a splash. A very loud splash. He’s in the water! He’s actually in the bloody water! His camera and 500mm lens remain on the zodiac, somewhat lonely, on the prow. But Cairns himself is completely submerged! His lifejacket automatically inflates, just as it should but whilst returning him to the icy surface, nearly throttles him in the process. Chaos reins. ‘Belfast Annie’, sitting on the starboard side, is in no mood to see our Viking hero float off into oblivion. Adrenaline pumping, she leans over the side and grabs Pete in the neck region clamping him firmly to the side of the Zodiac. As her spectacles steam up, Pete is heard to say, over and over again , “Annie, I am trying to get my leg over!” This sounds to Annie like one of the best offers she’s had in years and so her grip tightens on her Viking hero. While those of us on the port side balance the Zodiac (and if truth be told take as many pictures as we can), calm Swedish Captain Dan intervenes and soon Pete is safely back on board.

Pete becomes the subject of great concern (that doesn’t stop us taking yet more pictures) but our bedraggled leader remains cheerful and Annie helpfully points out the similarity between Pete’s inflated lifejacket and a ‘Double D’ bra that’s somehow got caught around his neck. Spitting out several mouthfuls of Arctic brine, Pete admits to feeling somewhat foolish, or words to that effect. A hollow, unsympathetic, chuckle is heard from our sister zodiac which Pete immediately recognises as the voice of his (supposedly) best mate, Mark Hamblin. We all vow that he should be next for a dunking!

On returning to the mother ship, Pete is soon restored to warmth and his usual level of exuberance. Never mind, you can’t have everything!

This was John Cumberland, Northshots News, The Arctic.

Note: The views and opinions expressed in this feature are not necessarily shared by Northshots and are clearly those of an individual who derives satisfaction from the misfortune of others.

Svalbard 2011.

Posted on August 31, 2011September 1, 2011 by Peter Cairns5 Comments

Picture the scene. We’re bobbing gently on a mirror-calm fjord surrounded by the most exquisite of ice sculptures, some reflecting myriad turquoise tones, others graphic in their design and transparency. Beyond, a series of jagged-toothed mountain tops are periodically caressed by delicate wisps of snow-white cloud as their bases are gnawed by glacial teeth, unrelenting for millennia. Periodically the constant pushing and heaving of ice delivers a thunderous crack and a slab of history the size of a tenement block, crashes into the aquamarine waters, stirring a wave that takes several minutes to reach us, by which time all is silent once more. “All we need now is a glass of red wine,” quips John C, one of our merry ‘class of Svalbard 2011’. And he’s right. The silence, solitude and sheer majesty of this primeval, evolving landscape is hard to improve upon, but yes John, a glass of vino would certainly round it off.

As ever our good ship Origo provided a warm and cosy bolt hole from the worst of the arctic weather and thanks to an excellent crew (great grub throughout), we never felt deprived of creature comforts even in this, one of the remotest places on earth. Despite one couple (sorry Bob & Anne) forgetting that an open cabin porthole in choppy seas, has inevitable consequences for the moisture content of bed linen and carpets, our group remained dry and warm throughout (well, not quite but more of that later).

Given the abundance of classic polar bear images from this part of the world, it’s easy to imagine that the largest land predator on earth is easy to find. Not so. We’re talking about a solitary animal that roams huge distances in search of food, spends much of its time holed up behind icebergs and can swim almost as inconspicuously as any otter. They are also white. And so is ice. You need to put yourself in the right habitat, spend some serious time on deck with a good pair of binoculars, but above all, you need some luck and the arctic can be a fickle friend.

We notched up 10 polar bear sightings and photographed 4. Disappointingly the ice pack was unusually far north and was hellbent on travelling even further north, depriving us of some time in prime polar bear habitat and we prematurely headed south following Plan B.

One of the other real characters of the arctic is the previously-persecuted walrus. Now bouncing back, these leviathans present the photographer with several challenges: they are uniformly brown, rarely awake and are found in places where the sun don’t shine. Apart from that they’re easy and we had two great sessions with a worthy support act of squabbling arctic terns in superb light.

The north can be cruel – light is hard to come by, weather is fickle and there are no migrating herds of wildebeest – the Masai Mara this ain’t. But when it’s good, it’s fantastic and if you accept the 90/10 rule (90% of the time there are no pictures to be taken), the 10% gets under your skin and lures you back time and time again.

Other highlights included particularly obliging bearded and ringed seals from the zodiacs and mirrored ice sculptures in perfect light. But for me, it’s not polar bears or seals or landscapes or mirror-calm reflections, it’s all of it rolled into one big spectacular life experience. It’s 12 months before I’ll be there again but I’m already counting the days. If you want to join us, you’d be welcome as there’s only one thing that tops Svalbard itself and that’s being there in good company. We were, so thanks to this year’s group – you were the glass of red wine that topped it off.

I mentioned staying dry. Of course this assumes that you avoid inadvertently taking a dip in the frigid arctic waters. I failed in that particular objective but more of that in a future post…

Ultimate Autumn Gold.

Posted on July 18, 2011 by Peter CairnsLeave a Comment

We have just 2 places left on our Ultimate Autumn Gold landscape photo-tour in October. The tour, taking in the very best of landscape locations on Skye and in the Cairngorms, is timed to coincide with the height of the autumn colour and the most dynamic of west coast light.

We are offering either a couple (or friends sharing) a deal whereby one guest goes for half price – that’s a saving of over £500! If you’d like to join us in the spectacular Scottish Highlands, drop us a line on [email protected]. Full details of the tour can be viewed here.

Take what you’re given.

Posted on July 15, 2011 by Peter Cairns1 Comment

If you photograph in northern latitudes it will only be a matter of time before you become an obsessed weather-watcher. It’s tempting to be put off in the face of ostensibly poor light and I’m as guilty as anyone for using less-than-perfect conditions as an excuse to crack on with office work. But a photo-tour takes away that choice – you have to go out, there are expectant guests eagerly waiting to exercise their trigger finger. And so it was on a recent tour in Shetland (renowned for its fickle weather) that I was reminded of the opportunities available in less than optimal conditions.

With the exception of one morning when it rained very, very hard (did I mention it rained hard) we ventured out to photograph every day. I dare say that had I been at home I probably would have stayed there for much of the time, but forced to innovate and work with whatever the weather gods offer, it’s amazing what can be picked up.

Shetland is one of those places. It can be very grey – indeed it is very grey for much of the time. One of the major benefits of working in a digital age however, is that grey is the new bright. Kicking off our tour in south Shetland we visited a thriving colony of arctic terns. I could tell the group were initially less than inspired but with a little encouragement, white birds against a white sky started to produce some nice results and importantly, I hope, persuaded our guests that sunlight isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be.

Moving north via Mousa and on through Yell and Unst (with most of our group enjoying close encounters with otters at various locations en-route), we came to focus our efforts on the swirling cacophonous seabird colony at Hermaness. This is a place that never fails to take my breath away and with confiding great skuas providing camera fodder on the lengthy walk up, it’s one of Britain’s must-see wildlife spectacles – with or without a camera.

Ourweek-long tour flashed by in an instant as we concluded with a day on the island of Noss complete with arms-length puffins flying in at our feet.

Shetland, like many northerly locations, can be cruel to the photographer but sit out the inevitable showers and your patience will be rewarded. Yes you have to make an effort; yes you have to think a bit about how you make the most of the often challenging conditions and yes, you will be glad of your bed each night, but make the most of what you’re given and the rewards will be well worth it.

My thanks to Cheryl, Pat, Mike, Chris, Peter, John, Rudolf and Derek for your company and I hope you enjoyed the tour as much as I did. In Cheryl’s case…perhaps not!

My thanks too to Brydon Thomason of Shetland Nature for his otter expertise. We’re running our Shetland photo-tour next year – same time, same place. If you’d like to join us and wallow in the photographic potential of grey skies, you’ll be very welcome. And just to prove the sun does occasionally show it’s face…

Red hot Iceland.

Posted on June 20, 2011June 21, 2011 by Peter Cairns9 Comments

I’ve got to be honest, I don’t do holidays. I’ve tried. I’ve really tried. But no. If I’m not taking pictures there’s a good chance I shouldn’t be there in the first place. And so off to Iceland on holiday with my (tolerant) wife Amanda and my (not so tolerant) son Sam. And my camera.

Initially austere, even foreboding, Iceland quickly gets under your skin and casts its almost mythical spell. Forget any media hype about volcanoes going off (I’m proud to say that I can in fact pronounce the “E” word!), this is a big place with big skies and big potential.

Being a holiday we decided to restrict our travel to the south of the island taking in the geological icons of Reynisdrangar and the suite of waterfalls including Seljalandsfoss and Skogafoss with its conveniently located fulmar colony. Further east Jokulsarlon lagoon is a must-see and is incongruous amidst the flat featureless coastal plains which skirt the Vatnajokull Glacier, Europe’s largest chunk of glacial ice.

OK my pictures are no better than what has been done before (a few more on the Northshots facebook page by the way) but for once, I’m not that bothered. Iceland is an experience. I can’t wait to return next year.

And just to prove I can almost do holidays, here’s Amanda at Iceland’s hottest tourist spot, The Blue Lagoon. In fairness it was a lot less touristy than I imagined and the ice creams are something else. I didn’t think it quite fair to inflict the locals with the sight of my ageing flesh but Amanda was less altruistic!

The (very) Wild West.

Posted on May 16, 2011 by Peter Cairns3 Comments

Any photographer visiting Scotland’s Western Isles will set off with two surefire expectations: rain and wind. They’ll also have in the back of their mind a nugget of hope: exciting light. Of course the latter is largely dictated by the former. It is the constant stream of Atlantic weather fronts which bombard these low-lying islands, that give rise to some of the most dynamic light anywhere.

And so it was with expectation and hope in mind (plus a decent set of waterproofs) that I recently set off for Lewis, Harris and North Uist (in that order). It had been 10 long years since I last visited the Outer Hebrides and apart from re-acquainting myself with some favoured sites, I was charged with the task of capturing the essence of the Hebridean coastline for the 2020VISION project. Now the deal is quite simple in these remote islands: wait for long enough (normally in horizontal sleet) and you’ll get good light. And so I did.

It was windy, in fact at times it was extremely windy and of course it did rain. But between the showers, the light at times was sublime. It’s not always a pretty place; it’s not always comfortable. But when it’s good, it’s very, very good.

And now for the capitalist sting in the tail: did I mention we’re running a tour to the Hebs in 2012? No? Well I’m mentioning it now! If you’d like to join me, view the tour here.

Rocking all over…Skye!

Posted on February 20, 2011February 21, 2011 by Peter Cairns2 Comments

Somewhere in the unfathomable depths of our minds, we all connect differently with places, people and cultural trends like music and fashion. I guess it’s what’s referred to as taste. Most would say…well at least my wife…that I’m not over-endowed in that department: she’s seen my 30 year allegiance to Status Quo (try as I might Hip Dizzy Doo-Daa Wotsit just doesn’t do it for me)! And so it is with photographic locations.

Last autumn I visited Skye for the first time (yes OK it’s taken me a while) and I wrote about it in this blog. It was a great trip (fun group of people always helps) but in many ways, not radically different from any other. So why is it niggling away at me? Why is it I can’t wait to get back? Is it that for some reason I connected with the place…or the people? I’m not sure to be honest. What I do know though is that in spite of it’s well-visited iconic landmarks, Skye is somehow tugging at my creative apron strings.

As time goes on working in Scotland is becoming increasingly exciting – I’m seeing new opportunities for creative imagery and perhaps more significantly, visual story-telling. Skye is right up there on my list, a list which in the past might have been topped with ostensibly more rewarding locations much further a field. So perhaps my photographic perspective is evolving (I hope that’s the case) and perhaps too are my tastes. As for the Quo, well some things transcend fickle cultural trends. Down Down y’all.

ps. If you fancy joining myself and colleague Mark Hamblin in Skye, take a look in Photo-tours.