Bruce Williams Photography » Sun Princess

The Coral Isles – days ten and eleven

Bruce — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 22:17:30 +0000

Well, we might not be home yet, but really, it’s like it’s all over already.
Just 2 days of straight sailing back to Sydney.
Bit of a downer, really.
Again, with nothing but 360 degree views of open water, there was little point in bringing out the camera.
Spent most of the time standing on Promenade Deck (that’s deck 7, the one that circumnavigates the entire ship) watching the flying fish and the bow wash, thinking about everything we’d experienced in the previous week and a bit.
Day eleven saw us in the company of a few birds. Obviously getting closer to land. Still a couple of hundred k’s offshore, but I guess for some of these birds, that isn’t that great a flight. Or maybe they sleep on the water at night? Maybe they don’t need to find dry land?
These were the kinds of things I was kicking over in my head to save me from having to think about going back to work.
When I awoke at 6:30 on the 29th, we were already at King Street Wharf, which was both surprising and disappointing.
I’d have liked to have been up on deck as we came through the heads, and to see whether the sunrise might have been worth shooting.
Oh well, the final injustice, I guess.
All in all, it was a fantastic trip, and the crew aboard the Sun Princess were absolutely fantastic. They couldn’t do enough to help you out with whatever you needed.
We will certainly be cruising again in the future.
If I do have one negative thing to say, it would be this:
As much as I loved the holiday, the area in which it let me down the most was as a photographer.
Now sure, some of you will look at the photos and say “What the hell is he whingeing about? The photos look great.”
Well, thanks! I’m glad other people like them too.
But here’s the thing.
Photography is not about subject matter.
It’s about LIGHT.
You can photograph the most beautiful icons of the world (think the Eiffel Tower, or the pyramids, Machu Picchu, or whatever you like) in crap light, and they just look like ordinary tourist snaps.
Or you can take the most ordinary subject matter and with the RIGHT LIGHT (plus of course, good composition and technical mastery), create an image that sticks in people’s minds forever.
And therein lies the problem with a cruise.
Any photographer worth his salt knows that the best light is early morning and late afternoon.
But on a cruise, you don’t pull into a port until 8 o’clock in the morning (generally) so you’ve missed the nice morning light.
And you’re back on the ship ready for departure by 16:30, which means you miss the nice evening light, too.
And night time photography? Forget it! You’re out at sea, sailing off to the next port.
So what you get is 8 hours in the harsh, broad daylight to shoot a location you’re unfamiliar with, and you generally don’t know the best locations to go and shoot because you’ve never been here before.
So when you DO find something worth shooting, you have to make the most of the light as it happens to be there and then.
You can’t think “Mmmm, this looks good. Think I’ll come back at 6 o’clock tomorrow morning” or “…think I’ll come back at sundown”, because by then, you’re either somewhere else, or rapidly headed that way.
As one photographer mentioned to me a couple of days ago, “It’s a bit like shooting a wedding then?”
Yep.
Pretty much!
This is your light. Do with it what you will.
And hey, if that’s the worst thing there is to say about a ship cruising holiday, then what are you waiting for?

Take me to: <- Day nine

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The Coral Isles – day nine

Bruce — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 11:04:09 +0000

Noumea, the capital of New Caledonia.
As usual, we were docked fairly early (around 8:00 am or so) which allowed you the opportunity to get off the ship and do some exploring for the day.
Given that Noumea is quite large and spread out (in comparison to the other places we’ve seen on this trip), it paid to get moving early.
We got off the ship around 9:00-9:30.
For some reason (I think it may have had to do with the length of the Sun Princess), we were tied up, not at the usual cruise ship terminal in the centre of town, but at the freight wharf a kilometer or so away.
As a consequence, we were collectively given a lift into town on a series of coaches.
Once there, I headed first for an ATM so I could do business in the local currency. Experience has shown you tend to get a better deal when transacting in the local currency.
With Pacific Francs in hand, we headed back to the spot where we’d been dropped by the coach, to check out the local tours that were on offer.
At one end of the building was a ‘car’ rental company who specialised more in 3 wheeled scooters (or what they referred to as scoot-cars.
These things had 3 wheels, a 50cc engine, bike-like handlebars, and a vinyl roof over your head (which turned out to be a blessing, given the frequency and regularity of tropical showers that Noumea experiences in a day).
Cath was happy for Max and I to head off in one of these crazy contraptions for an hour, while she walked the streets and browsed the shops and markets.
So, off we went. The hire company gave us a pre-defined route to follow. We stuck to that plan for the first half of the loop, but once we realised we had plenty of time up our sleeve, we deviated from the map and just went exploring.
The beauty of hiring a little vehicle like this was that I could cover much more ground than I could have hoped to do on foot, but I also had the freedom to stop and take photos wherever I saw the opportunity. Something I could not have done had I jumped on one of the organised bus tours.
Once Max and I returned the scoot-car to the rental company, we hooked up with Cath who had been looking at the aforementioned bus tours on offer.
I suggested that her and Max go off and do that, while I wandered the town on foot looking for more photo opportunities.
Max was, by this stage, starting to show signs of too many late nights, early mornings, and general artefacts of “going hard” for too long.
So, it was decided that after the pair of them had done the bus tour, they would head back to the ship.
“In that case”, I said, “I’ll just wander around until I’ve had enough, and I’ll meet you back on the ship later this arvo.”
So, with that plan in place, I headed off to wander through the main part of the town.
I soon ended up at St Jospeh’s Cathedral, which offered some nice photo opps.
But other than that, I didn’t see a whole lot to inspire me. Partly because I was always conscious of the time I had left and how quickly it was running out.
Anyway, I still managed a few shots I’m happy with, and that was the main thing.
Starting to feel a little melancholy at the idea that this is the last port before Sydney, as the next 2 days are open water sailing straight back to Australia.
Too soon. Too soon.

Take me to: <- Day eight | Day ten ->

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The Coral Isles – day eight

Bruce — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 04:38:38 +0000

Ahhhh, Christmas Day at sea.
Now, there’s something you don’t see every year, unless of course you work on a cruise ship.
An interesting day in the sense that there was no family around other than the 3 of us; just 2000 strangers.
Judgement is still out on how I felt about this.
They did have Santa on board for the kids, and they all received a small Princess Cruises teddy bear, so that was a nice touch.
The food, as always, was beyond compare, although Cath felt that it didn’t quite hit the mark, in terms of what we were expecting of ‘Christmas’.
Again, I’m not sure how I felt about it. I don’t recall what the dishes were, but I do recall being sufficiently stuffed!
Another day of very little photography, as we spent the whole day at sea. The few shots I did take were just family snaps.
Tomorrow should be promising.
Noumea.

Take me to: <- Day seven | Day nine ->

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The Coral Isles – day four

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 04:24:04 +0000

Lifou, another of the many islands which make up the French territory of New Caledonia.
The first thing to really catch my eye here was the abundance of butterflies. Seriously, the air was full with them!
While Cath and Max stayed on the beach, I decided to go for a walk to see what photographic opportunities I might discover. I walked about a mile to the church which we’d been able to see from the ship. As I was approaching said church, a couple (who were heading back to the beach) said “You HAVE to visit the cave.”
They gave me directions on which natives to talk to, in order to pay my entrance into the cave, but with the added affirmation that it was definitely worth it.
Thankfully, we had thought to bring with us some little walkie talkies which have a range of 3km.
I buzzed Cath, told her about the cave, and that her and Max should walk up and meet me.
Once they arrived, we paid the locals the entrance fee and headed down a path through the bush. Every 50 metres or so, there was another local pointing you on, making sure you didn’t get lost.
Next thing, we’re pointed down this ravine into what could only be described (no matter how cheezy it may sound) as a “secret valley”.
“Secret” in the sense that the only way to get into it was to climb through this narrow (and steep) ravine.
Then, it was more steep descent over tree roots and sharp rocks until we entered another narrow ravine (so narrow, I had to take my backpack off and carry it).
Thankfully, there was another local handy, this guy carrying a torch and pointing it at the floor as each person passed through the tightest part of the passage.
Once we got to the cave, we had probably descended about 50 metres vertically from the original bush path we’d been on.
The cave wasn’t huge; the floor probably measured 5 metres by 8 metres.
However, the main attraction here was the freshwater pool which locals and tourists alike were swimming in.
I don’t know what it’s like where you live, but we were all brought up on the notion that you never jump into a pool of water you can’t see clearly, and about whose depth and submerged nasties you know nothing about.
So, it was with great trepidation that we entertained the idea of jumping into this pool on faith (and the encouraging calls of other tourists from the ship).
Everyone (including the natives) were saying that the water was beautiful and refreshing, and that it was very deep and clear of rocks, as long as you jumped out far enough to clear the rocks at the edge.
Right.
OK then.
Another local shone a torch across the water, so you could see that it did indeed look ok. The water was very clear, and you could see the beams of light disappearing into the depths.
It was around this time, as I’m trying to gauge whether or not to take the ‘leap of faith’, that another tourist (who was drying himself off after his dip) said that he had dived down as deep as he could and had not been able to see the bottom, and that he freaked himself out on the way back up, because he wasn’t sure if he’d left himself enough oxygen to make it back to the surface.
‘Fair enough’, I thought. Must be pretty deep.
So, on that basis, I took a running jump and splashed into the water.
It was absolutely gorgeous!
The water was fresh, in both senses of the word (1. free of salt. 2. cool, invigorating)!
Cath and Max also hopped in and had a swim.
It was lovely.
To add to the prehistoric-other-worldy nature of the place, there were vines hanging down into the cave from the secret valley above, and the local kids were running, jumping, catching the vines, swinging out over the water, and letting go just inches before colliding head first into the rock wall that angled across the cave over the pool.
We spent perhaps 20 minutes frolicking about in the water, cooling off from the Pacific heat and humidity, knowing that by the time we had climbed the 200-odd steps back up to the bush path, we were probably going to be ready for another dip.
After I got out of the pool, I set up the tripod, set the camera on manual everything, and did a couple of 30 second exposures while manually firing my flash unit on 1/64 power at various parts of the cave.
While I nailed the exposure, the absence of any light meant that my best attempts at manual focus were totally disastrous. A shame really, as the site was one of which I’d have loved to have captured some good images.
If I remember to do so, I’ll post the images anyway.

Take me to: <- Day three | Day five ->

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The Coral Isles – day three

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 04:02:41 +0000

The Isle of Pines, so named by Captain James Cook in 1774 for the proliferation of pine trees there (that’s it Jimmy, go for the obvious).
As part of New Caledonia, the common language here is French which makes communication with the locals less than perfect, although most of them can handle the basics of English.
Well, when I say the ‘basics’, I mean they can get far enough into a conversation to get you to part with your money!
Obviously, the afore-mentioned Captain didn’t think the island warranted annexing for the mother country.
Still, given that he claimed Australia 3 years later, I guess he can be forgiven for letting this one slide.

Take me to: <- Day two | Day four ->

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The Coral Isles – day two

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 03:42:26 +0000

Mmmmm, deja vu. Didn’t even pull out the camera today.
360 degree views of open water.
Which is something to behold the first time you witness it.
Reminds you just how big this planet can be.
By now, most of the land lubbers had managed to scoff enough ginger to help keep their meals down.
Woohoo.

Take me to: <- Day one | Day three ->

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The Coral Isles – day one

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 02:01:21 +0000

We woke up to find we were in the company of a bunch of lily-livered land lubbers, who all lost their lunch because of the “rocky” conditions.
Pfft.
The swell wouldn’t have even been a metre high.
And on a ship this size, I doubt the rolling was more than 20 degrees (10 above and 10 below the horizon).
Puh-lease.
Anyway, this was the first of 2 solid days of open water sailing on our way to the Isle of Pines in New Caledonia.
Nothing to see here folks, move along.
Well, except maybe a few shots from around the ship.

Take me to: <- Day zero | Day two ->

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The Coral Isles – day zero

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 02:00:19 +0000

The thought of fighting Sydney traffic to drive to the wharf was one which I preferred not to entertain.
And living relatively close to the Parramatta River as we do, I suggested to Cath that we should have someone drop us (and our luggage) at one of the ferry wharves on the river, so that we could catch the RiverCat.
What this would do was give us a pleasant hour long ride down the river sans congestion, and drop us at King Street Wharf, about 100 metres from the International Passenger Terminal.
So, that was what we did.
A very stress-free way of getting to the ship.
The ship?
The Sun Princess.
She’s been in operation since 1995, and is the oldest ship in the Princess fleet.
For all that, she seems to me (who has never sailed on a passenger ship before and wouldn’t know what to expect anyway) to be in relatively good condition. Although, we have since learned that she goes into dry dock in Brisbane in 2010 for an overhaul.
For those who haven’t cruised before, let me tell you, the shipping check-in process, while still lengthy, is nowhere near as painful as airline check-in. It took us about one hour from the time we joined our first queue, to the time we set foot on the deck of the ship. But once you ARE on board, you are free to roam and do you thing.
Naturally, we dumped our hand luggage in our cabin and went off (like the other 1900-odd passengers) to explore the vessel.
As I sit down to write this blog entry, with 10 days of cruising behind me, I have come to the realization that this isn’t a ship at all. It’s a ‘floating trough’!
No joke.
If you’re not eating, you’re drinking. I dread jumping on the scales when I get home. It’ll probably tell me “One at a time, please.”
Anyway, as you may have guessed, there is no shortage of drinking and eating establishments on this ship. And almost all of it is included in your fare.
There is a 24 hour buffet (included).
There is an a la carte steakhouse (not included).
There are 2 a la carte dining rooms (included).
There is a pizza restaurant where they make ‘em fresh (included)!
There is an ice cream bar up on the pool deck (included).
There is the Terrace Grill also up on the pool deck where you can get hamburgers, pies & chips and the like (included).
Plus room service (included)!
So, what’s that? 8 places to eat, and only one of them is not included in your fare!
And then there are the watering holes!
Ye gods. I’m not even going to TRY to name them all. I swear you could projectile vomit from one to the next, they are that frequent around the ship!
Not that we drank to excess, but they certainly give you plenty of opportunities to do so should that be your thing.
Anyway, we pushed off from the dock at around the scheduled 16:30 departure time.
The tug boats spun us around, and had us sailing under the harbour bridge by 16:37 (according to the metadata of my photos).
Then, it was a very windy passage up the harbour and out through the heads. What intrigued me was how rapidly the wind subsided once we had cleared the heads (for the unfamiliar, the ‘heads’ are North Head and South Head… each being about 100 metres high. They form the entrance to Sydney Harbour).
And that was pretty much it for day zero.
We sailed off in a north-easterly direction, headed for New Caledonia, 2 full days sail away, as we watched the Australian mainland disappear into the glare of the sunset.

Take me to: day one ->

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