Bruce Williams Photography » Travel

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 seven

Bruce — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 23:21:51 +0000

I woke up at about 5:00, and could tell that I wasn’t going to get back to sleep any time soon, so I got up, grabbed the camera and headed topside.
Glad that I did, as it turned out to be a decent sunrise; a few scattered clouds on the horizon, but broken up enough for the sun to peak through.
However, shooting a sunrise (which requires a slower shutter and a tripod) from the deck of a moving vessel as you’re plowing along into a 20 knot headwind makes for a challenging assignment!
I had to position myself to the starboard side of the bow just so I could get some foreground interest (the ship), and then once I had the shot lined up, I had to physically lean on my tripod to hold it steady! Breaking all the rules, I know, but you do what you have to do, to get the shot, right?
Anyway, after getting some shots I was happy with, I headed back to the cabin to grab another hour of sleep.
Once we surfaced for breakfast, we found Champagne Bay laid out before us under a simply gorgeous South Pacific morning; bright blue sky, fluffy white clouds scattered all about. It looked like every tropical island postcard you’ve ever seen.
Sweet.
We headed off to shore and did all the usual things.
Photos first (before my hands get covered in salt and sand).
Then, a swim and some snorkeling (sans close encounters).
Although, I did see a school of about 300 fish which allowed me to get close to them. Don’t know what they were. They were each about 8-9 inches long, silver in colour, with a thin yellow stripe running along the length of the body. Very inquisitive fish.
After the snorkeling, it was back to the beach to dry off and sample a fresh (green) coconut which is absolutely beautiful stuff. Totally different to the dried coconut you buy in the shops.
Then, having left our money in the safe in our cabin, we all headed back to the ship.
Cath decided to stay there and read her book, while Max and I headed back to the beach to do a tour with one of the locals.
While it lasted the promised hour, it didn’t blow me away.
Like most of these touristy activities, time is not really given to photographers to get out and find a great shot, and to line in up and so forth.
No, these things are designed for the photographer who holds their camera at arms length.
Clearly, I’m doing it all wrong.
Anyway, despite the less than anticipated ‘tour’, Champagne Bay certainly was the idyllic tropical paradise we had been promised, and the snorkeling lived up to expectations.
Can’t complain about that!

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

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The Coral Isles – day six

Bruce — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 10:57:55 +0000

As I wrote this, I am sitting back at my desktop in Sydney. Man, that went quick.
Today, we anchored at Wala, a really small island in the Vanuatu group, measuring somewhere around 1000 metres squared.
We had been advised that the snorkeling on offer both here, and at Champagne Bay (where we’ll be tomorrow), would be the best we’d experience on this trip. Hence our decision to buy some gear yesterday.
After wandering the local beach market place, and grabbing a few shots of the locals, I decided it was time to join Cath and Max in the water.
We snorkeled around the area of the beach where we’d left our stuff, and what we saw was ok, but not mind-blowing.
After a while, I said to Cath that I was going to wander up to the other end of the beach near the rocky point I could see, and see if the snorkeling was any more promising there.
As I headed that way, I passed a couple, masks and snorkels in hand, who were returning from that direction, so I asked them what the snorkeling had been like.
The guy told me “Head out straight off the point. It’s amazing.”
So, I swam out there and the view truly was spectacular. In hindsight, I wish I’d had one of those little disposable underwater film cameras. The quantity and variety of coral was unlike anything I had ever witnessed first hand. It was like something out of a documentary.
And the fish!
Same deal.
More types and colours than I had ever seen.
I could even see clown fish (Finding Nemo, anyone?) in their natural habitat.
So, I headed back in, walked back down the beach and told Cath (Max was out in the water playing with one of his new-found friends from onboard the ship) to come and check this out.
So, we both walked back up the beach, and swam out to where I had previously been.
Now, I don’t know about you, but when I go snorkeling, I don’t settle for just flapping along on the surface. I like to take a huge breath and duckdive down and actually swim amongst the fish and coral.
So, I was doing this over and over again, diving down to look closely at the coral and the fish, and returning to the surface when I felt the need to breathe again.
On one occasion, I had dived down to about 12 feet and was approaching a big piece of plate coral. I happened to look up to my left to where I could see Cath paddling along on the surface.
So, what do you do in an instance like this?
Naturally, you roll over to wave, right?
Yeah, right.
That’s when you find out the hard way that distances underwater are not what they appear to be!
As I’ve rolled my body by tucking my right shoulder down and under my chest, I’ve made contact with the plate coral! And let me tell you, that stuff might LOOK soft and cuddly, but it aint! It’s like course grade sandpaper which does not bend!
The impact was hard enough that Cath said later on that she HEARD it, from where she was 12 feet above me on the surface!
For me, it caught me by surprise so badly (and the pain was excruciating), that I inhaled a mouthful of water through my snorkel. Thankfully I didn’t swallow it, but rather spat it back out straight away as I made a beeline for the surface.
Upon breaching the surface, I took a huge gulp of air, and looked around at my shoulder to see that there was a reasonable quantity of blood now pouring from the wound.
Great.
I’m in open water, and I’m bleeding.
Bring on the feeding frenzy any time now.
I decided it was probably a good time for Cath and I to get out of the water.
Once back on dry land, I made my way to the ship’s nurse, who was positioned at the (beach) end of the jetty, ready to cater to such emergencies.
She cleaned the wounds out with alcohol wipes (shoulder, elbow and outside of my right hand) and then smothered them in iodine.
Yeeee-oooooow!
Crap, if it didn’t hurt enough before, it sure as hell does now!
Anyway, we decided that that was all the excitement we needed for one day, so we returned to the ship shortly thereafter.
Perhaps the coral at Champagne Bay will be less aggressive towards me!

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

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The Coral Isles – day five

Bruce — Wed, 30 Dec 2009 13:16:36 +0000

Port Vila, Vanuatu. I was here for 24 hours in 2006, on my way to Tanna. It was fun to revisit the place, and to see some of the changes which have occurred since.
Prior to embarking on this voyage, Cath had done some research on the web as to how best handle tours of these various ports. The consensus had been not to book your onshore activities through the ship, as you end up paying around 2.5 to 3 times the face value of the activity in question, even if it only involved getting a local guide to show you around.
So, once we walked off the wharf in Port Vila, we negotiated with a local cab driver for a day’s running around, including a visit to Cascade Falls, which we’d read about and had decided needed to be seen. We paid him A$100 for the 3 of us. If we had booked the same thing through the ship, it would have cost us A$69 per head!
So, this guy takes us to various other spots that he thought would be of interest to us as well, on our way out to Cascade Falls. Sweet! Probably got to see more things than we’d have seen if we’d booked through the ship! And at least we knew that the whole hundred dollars we spent was going into the local economy, not into the cruise line’s profit and loss statement.
Cascade Falls was absolutely beautiful. As the name suggests, it’s a series of waterfalls, with an abundance of rock pools in which you can laze about. There’s even a small cave behind the main waterfall, which you can access by swimming through the tumbling torrent of water. It’s quite an experience! Once inside, you realise just how small the cave is! Anything more than about 4-5 adults and things would be getting a little squishy! And because it’s all solid rock, the acoustics are quite weird. Small room, non-porous highly reflective surfaces, and the white noise produced by the water pouring down 2 feet away!
After we left Cascade Falls, we headed back into town. Along the way, we told Charlie (our cab driver) that we wanted to find a shop that sold snorkeling gear.
He dropped us right outside the store in question, and promised to meet us an hour and a half later at the fresh produce market a couple of blocks away (a spot I knew about from my previous visit).
We went inside and managed to pick up 3 masks, 3 snorkels and 3 sets of fins for the princely sum of A$96! Much better than the A$115 the ship wanted for ONE set!!
We found ourself some lunch, had a bit of a wander around the harbourfront market, picked up some souvenirs, met up with Charlie as arranged, and then headed back to the ship.
Once back in our cabin, Max decided to get his mask adjusted ready for tomorrow’s proposed snorkeling adventures at Wala (our next port). As he went to adjust one of the side clips, it broke straight off.
Great.
You get what you pay for.
Grrr.
I said to Cath that Max and I would head back into town to get it swapped over for another one.
So, Max and I headed back onto the wharf, found another cabbie and explained that we simply needed a return trip to town, and where we needed to go.
On the way back into town, it occurred to me that I had neglected, earlier in the day, to purchase the one thing I had been hanging out to buy whilst in Port Vila!
Tanna coffee!
I tell you, this is the nicest coffee I have EVER had.
After my trip in 2006, I knew I had to pick up as much as I could while here this time.
What I did not realise was just how expensive the stuff was!
About A$50 per kilo.
And unfortunately, I only had enough currency with me to buy a half kilo.
I know I’m going to drink that in about 2 weeks flat, and then I’m going to regret not having bought more of it.
Ce la vie.
Anyway, we managed to get Max a new mask. The girls at the dive shop were very accommodating, and exchanged it without fuss.
OK, all set for some killer snorkeling at Wala tomorrow.
If only I’d known just how ‘killer’ it was going to be….

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

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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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