If you've never been to Ke'e beach on Kaua'i during a swell, I'd add it to your bucket list. When a swell comes in and the waves are particularly powerful, it is an adrenaline rush even if you remain on the beach (which any sane person would do!). They're incredible to watch, crashing madly against the end of the reef, and when the reef ends and cliffs begin, something really special happens.

As one wave comes in, hits the cliff and is pushed back toward the sea, it collides with the wave coming in behind it. When this happens with just the right force and timing from each wave, it is like water is exploding right out of the ocean. Some of these waves can reach incredible heights, or morph into gorgeous curls and fans -- and when combined with a colorful sunset the show is as exciting as watching fireworks on the forth of July. Plus, for a photographer, watching the dramatic change in mood as the lighting shifts is an extra wonderful bonus, going from this:

And this:

To this:

And because it's me, I have to appreciate their beauty in black and white as well:

Once of the most noticable things about Kaua'i, at least for someone with an interest in photographing birds, is the odd balance (or imbalance) of species and how it has changed and continues to change over time. The issue was most apparent when I saw a little green bird among the palm tree leaves outside the lanai while I ate breakfast one morning.

The bird is a Japanese white-eye, one of the dozens of introduced species of Kaua'i. Introduced to O'ahu in 1929, it has spread to the other islands and is one of the most abundant birds found on the Hawaiian islands. While that's great for this species, it's not great for native species. Not only is it a vector for avian parasites that impact native birds, but it also competes against native nectar-eating birds and is thought to be a reason for the decline in those native nectar-eating species. It also does a wonderful job of spreading invasive plants through seed dispersal, which is highly problematic. It is all too common a story among the many species that have changed the islands forever. And whether or not its population will be culled or the species erradicated is questionable.

While beautiful and fun to watch, the Japanese white-eye is just another out-of-place species. I have yet to see a native species of bird on Kaua'i in two trips, but I hope to on my next trip which will include some extensive hiking.

I love that moment -- that moment that the sun tips from one side of the horizon to the other. When it's a growing golden light then Bam, a burst of rays. Or when it's a burning orange orb that is going, going, going, and suddenly gone. It's amazing. And my new-found joy in landscape photography has given me the drive to see that moment more and more often -- as well as to appreciate it for how incredibly brief it really is.

Luckily, that moment may be short in and of itself, but it extends beauty on either side of it for long minutes. Enjoying the colors blooming and fading during a sunrise or sunset is something that will never grow old.

So, the longest lens I took on my trip to Kaua'i was a 70-200mm. Had I thought hard enough about it, I would brought along a much longer lens because I realized for the first time the sheer fun of photographing surfers. Anyone who has scanned the surfing magazines at the book store knows that the photos are so much fun to stare at, and surfer photographers always talk about the joys of catching the action of both water and human. But I didn't really get it until I was already on Kaua'i and saw a couple dozen surfers taking advantage of the swell that had just come in a day or two before. I hadn't witnessed much surfing on Kaua'i during my last trip for whatever reason, so I didn't really think about planning for that kind of shot. Bummer for me because if you're photographing from the beach a couple hundred yards away, you're not going to get anything that's usable. I had to crop waaaaaaaaay in to recognize that the surfer was not just a bit of scuz on my sensor. Ha! Next time I head to the island, I'm packing a nice long telephoto. Here are some couldhavebeencoolif images that I'm keeping as reminders.

The other day I mentioned that one of the only things that would have made seeing the spinner dolphins any more amazing was if a monk seal happened to pass by the boat. Well, one apparently heard that I was hoping to see it and decided to haul up for a hello. 

I was walking down the beach to a favorite spot to get sunset shots when I saw a small crowd of people with their cameras out. My first thought was, "another wedding" but no one was dressed up. So my second thought was, "Oh brother, a celebrity." As I started to pass, I realized there was indeed a celebrity laying on the sand -- only one that I actually get excited about. A Hawaiian monk seal was resting on the sand, surrounded by a few orange cones and signs telling people to leave the animal alone, and a single seal monitor ensuring that people followed the rules. 

Hawaiian monk seals first appeared in the oceans somewhere around 11 million years ago, and it has changed little since then. It is the oldest species of seal on the planet, and it is also critically endangered. During the 1800s and 1900s, they were clubbed by whalers and seal hunters for meat, oil and their skins, and they were hunted by U.S. military forces stationed on Midway and Laysan during WWII. The species nearly disappeared, and today there are only around 1,100 individuals left. As one of the most rare marine mammal species on earth, the current threats facing them are marine debris (being tangled and drowned in abandoned nets or getting fishing hooks caught in their mouths), the problems associated with climate change and warming seas, and habitat loss from human encroachment, exactly like what has happened on the southern beaches of Kaua'i. If a monk seal is disturbed too often when hauled up on a beach, it won't return to that beach again, and its habitat is even further reduced. 

Of course one of the most hated rules of photography was played out for me: If you think you'll need a long lens, you won't. If you think you won't need it, you will. I figured I was just heading out to get a few sunset shots and to enjoy a beach stroll, so I took my 7D with my 17-55mm, leaving my higher quality (but heavier) gear, long lens included, behind. Could not kick myself harder for that. Nor laugh at myself harder. Of course it would happen that I'd need it. Again it is proven: It's better to lug gear around just in case than to miss out on an amazing opportunity. 

Luckily I still got a few shots I like, and the wide-angle lens allowed me to capture the monk seal in its beach-side habitat: surrounded by gawkers and people posing for a photo near the seal. 

The difference between treatment of monk seals here versus what I experienced on Midway Atoll is amazing. I was fairly shocked to see how close the seal monitor allowed people to get to the resting animal -- we're talking more like 10 feet rather than the 150 feet requred on Midway Atoll. There, they are afforded so much more solitude with humans kept away at enough of a distance that a long lens is required. Of course, Midway is also considered critical habitat and thus it is a much more serious issue to leave monk seals undisturbed. Also, if this individual hauled up here and is able to catch forty winks (this seal stayed for several hours) then it must be accustomed to people. As is the case with most species, there are certain individuals that will tolerate noise and human presence more than others. My guess is there are some monk seals that don't mind the relatively crowded beaches of Kaua'i and some that would rarely haul up here, preferring quieter beaches along the Northwestern Hawaiian Island archipelago. 

Either way, it was hard for me to stand there and see people getting so close to it, using the flashes on their point-n-shoots, rather than respecting the fact that this animal needs to rest and moving back. I took my shots from behind the barriers and moved away, grateful for the fact that I got to see a monk seal at all and marveling at the fact that there are so few of this amazing species left, but here was one individual, hauled up and sleeping the same sunny beach where I stood. After all, who could want to disturb this sleeping pile of adorableness??

On the way back from getting the sunset shots, I practically tripped over two green sea turtles (also an endangered species) that had hauled up to rest in the moonlight. The two boulders that definitely weren't there a few minutes before drew the attention of the few beachgoers that were still enjoying the evening. One couple pulled out an iPad and started taking pictures with the built-in flash. Another group of three did the same with their iPhones.

Though I really wanted to take pictures of these two gorgeous turtles, I couldn't bring myself to be one of them and fire off my flash in these turtles' faces when they were only looking for a peaceful place to rest. I stopped for a moment to appreciate them, but quietly kept walking past. I have a feeling as I start a career (or at least passionate hobby) as a wildlife photographer that I'm going to miss a lot of shots out of respect for the animals I'm photographing. So be it. The animals' welfare comes above a photo, any day. 

A handful of other shots of Hawaiian Monk Seals can be found on my flickr stream, as well as in this slideshow on TreeHugger.com which will explain more about these wonderful animals. And some fun photos of green sea turtles eating man-o-war jellyfish can be found in this post. 

Quick blog post because I'm on vacation and shouldn't be on the computer at all -- but wanted to pop up a couple of photos from this morning because I'm pretty stoked about the subject: Spinner dolphins!!

The first time I ever saw spinners was at Midway Atoll. There was a pod of about 80 resting in the lagoon and as we boated from Sand Island to Eastern Island, they came to play with the boat. However, they were really mellow and apparently not in the mood for their famed acrobatics. So as I boarded a boat on Kaua'i this morning for a tour of the NaPali coastline (humming "three hour tour..." in my head) I had a list of hope-to-sees and on it was spinner dolphins playing. Turns out, it happened!

There was a zodiak chock full of people and a pod of spinners showing off for them. We slowed and thankfully they kept up their antics for a short time. It was wonderful to see them spin and play, the first time I've ever witnessed it. And it sure won't be the last -- I'm already plotting how to get out in the water with spinners again soon so I can get better shots of them. And there was even an iiiiiiittty bitty baby dolphin swimming alongside its mother!  

We saw two sharks feeding on a bait ball, green sea turtles, plenty of fish, some amazing arches and caves, and of course, gorgeous coastline. The only thing that could possibly have made the jaunt any better is if a monk seal happened by the boat. That, and more time with the dolphins. And if I'm really making wishes, then I'll add better lighting onto the list. But really, it was an amazing morning, and a wonderful way to start out our vacation. 

Now, a vodka soda and a chair on the beach are calling my name while I wait for sunset!  Stay tuned, more Kaua'i photos to come.

I finally got a chance to photograph some dancers in low light, and not just any low light -- firelight. We went to a luau while on vacay in Kaua'i and I was excited because this was one of the few times during the trip where I was going to allow myself to focus more on photos than the experience. I was excited about the never-know-what-you'll-get aspect of photographing the dancers with slow shutter speeds. I messed around a lot with different settings to see how they might provide different outcomes and it was a lot of fun experimenting. I got a small handful of photos that I'm pretty happy with. And I got a lei. And we saw a calf that was born just minutes earlier on the plantation where the luau is hosted. So all in all, I'm pretty darn happy. There are a few more on Flickr if you'd like to check them out.

I'm pretty excited about this exceptionally sh*tty shot of a green sea turtle. As I mentioned in my last post, I went on vacation to Kaua'i with hopes to see sea turtles, but I wasn't going to spend every moment at the beach trying to just photograph the wildlife. I wanted to, you know, be a beachgoer. So rather than dealing with any sort of waterproof casing and blah blah blah for my camera, I bought a little waterproof disposable camera to take dorky-fun snorkling photos of each other and play in the water. I waded out at beach on the south shore and within moments of getting in the water, a sea turtle surfaced not three feet from me. The camera was around my wrist, and I grabbed it, stuck it under the water without looking and pulled the little lever. I took two quick photos (the other was just its shell), and then just stared at the turtle until a sizeable wave came and I lost sight of it.

We kept seeing sea turtles the rest of the trip but I didn't really jump in the water to chase after them (you're kinda not supposed to anyway since they're a threatened species) -- it was enough just to stare at them and be in awe that we'd been that close. I hoped I'd gotten something with my un-aimed shots, and was so excited when we got the film developed and saw I at least had something that can be recognized as a sea turtle.

I have this photo, but the image that is most clear in my head and that will always stick with me is of turning and seeing a sea turtle's head above the water, checking me out as it took a breath, and then disappearing under the surface again. My first time seeing a sea turtle. So rad.

Photo of me on vacation, taken by my closet-tographer girlfriend

I'm well aware of the fact that to many serious photographers, there is no such thing as vacation. The civilian word "vacation" translates to "photo trip!" in Tog. I'm not that type of serious photographer. When I left for Kaua'i for a much, much needed vacation, I brough my gear but I didn't commit myself to using it. I knew I would have opportunities to take photographs that I've never had before from landscapes to endangered species, but I wasn't going to turn a chance to unwind and unplug into a high-strung trip revolving around whether or not I got the shot and is it awesome enough. I feel strongly that while photographers can bring their passion with them practically anywhere since cameras are ubiquitous, it doesn't mean we should. There's something to be said for putting the camera down for hours, even days at a time, and just.... living, committing scenes to memory through experience rather than committing them to a digital file format that you can't wait to tweet out.

In Kauai I tried hard to have a balance between taking photographs and soaking in the scene sans camera. I think that awareness of enjoying a moment for the sake of the moment ensured that I got the most out of my time on a phenomenal island -- and is probably why I felt more relaxed than I have in years.

I think this trip, for me, solidified the photogilosophy that it's always a good idea to have a camera with you, but it's okay to step away from it and be simply human.

I didn't get a lot of shots, and pretty much not a single great shot, but what I did get is up on Flickr if you'd like to check em out.