By Bill Lockhart

You have to want to go to Glenuig.  It’s not exactly on a main highway, and frankly it’s even hard to find on a map. Glenuig (Scottish Gaelic: Gleann Ùige) is a small village in Moidart, Lochaber, Highland, on the west coast of Scotland. It is around 30 miles west of Fort William and 20 miles from Ardnamurchan Point.

But visiting there is something I remember vividly.

Sometimes those of us who do photography get wrapped up in stuff.  Cameras, lenses, filters, backpacks, and when we have spare time working for hours in photoshop, and then reading more and more and more to try to improve what we do.  We forget, I think, to just go; and in the going to enter the world of discovery.

One never knows what is around the corner or what one might find along a deserted road or even in a city.  Sometimes we stumble upon enriching moments that we recall and enjoy.

There is a wonderful loch at Glenuig, in fact, it may be one of the most beautiful spots I have visited in my travels.  But, despite the beauty of the area, the story I have to tell is about someone I met there.  His name is Duncan Sinclair.  Here he is:

Duncan Sinclair

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Duncan was pulling a boat filled with wood he had found floating in the loch, left over stuff from a bonfire that had been celebrated on Guy Fawkes Night (also known as Bonfire Night) which is celebrate on November 5 each year.  It is a special day when villages all across Scotland build bonfires and come together remembering some obscure chapter in history.  But I digress.

The water in the loch was cold.  I mean cold.  And, here Duncan was pulling a boat through the water with his wellies filled with that cold water and never once did I see him shiver.  It would have killed me!  He hailed me from the water and I replied with a loud hello.  He proceeded to anchor his boat, giving me a lesson on how to do it right, otherwise the anchor rope would have floated and the boat would have been freed.

Then, he proceeds to tell me about his find.  Good lumber that he will use to repair one of his boats.  And he pauses to ask for a smoke and then goes on to ask me where I am from.  “The USA,” I said.  “I know that,” he said, “your accent is not Scottish.”  I laughed.  So I told him I was from Florida.  Then he proceeds to give me a long discourse about weather and how the hurricanes that affect Florida also affect Scotland.  “For years we knew that,” he said, “but it wasn’t until satellites confirmed it that most accepted the fact.”

Hum, I thought, this guy is more than I first thought.  This really came to light when he discussed in detail the elections in America and how wonderful he thought Obama would be as President. And then he talked about the world’s condition and what Obama might offer to people like himself.  And, suddenly I realized that I was speaking with an intellectual, someone who examines his world in great detail.  Here he was, someone that most would avoid, a person with a first rate mind.  But what made the event so powerful in my mind was that it occurred there at Glenuig, one of the most peaceful and beautiful places on this earth.  I think perhaps there is a story there too.  For the beauty of this earth must certain affect our ability to see clearly even on a miserable day when the cold curls one’s toes and the wind blisters one’s eyes.

In next 20 minutes or so I learned a great deal from Duncan, it was one of those special times that we encounter that is enriching.

Most tourists never have the opportunity to meet people like Duncan, or I suppose they might be afraid to engage in conversations with some guy who walks out of a Loch drenched in cold rain with his wellies filled with salt water.  Too bad.  I enjoy meeting people, real people, people who live and work and dream, and more importantly, people who share the same things I do.

Meeting Duncan was a special moment, and I am glad I had my G10 in my coat pocket and that he allowed me to photograph him.  I need to do more portraits of real people.

Special moments are rare.  One should look for such opportunities.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

A voyage to the St. Kilda archepelago is like none other trip the PTR Team has made.  Indeed, it is the end of the earth.  Photographs don’t do it justice, it is overwhelming, awesome, humbling.

Two members of the PTR Team, Melanie and Bill, boarded the Good Ship Cuma and set sail for St. Kilda with high expectations.  Weather played a big role in the trip.  The first day out was rough at sea and the Cuma had to return to safe haven.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

The next day the team set out with great hopes for good light.

We were fortunate, our Captain Murdo Macdonald, has decades of experience traversing the dangerous waters off the coast of the Isle of Lewis.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

As we approached the St. Kilda Archipelago, the wind died down and we were gifted with wonderful light on the stacks of Boreray.  Can one imagine 100,000 gannets at nest on one island?  It cannot be described.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

As the Cuma moved into Village Bay, we got our first view of the famous village on the Island of Herte.

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Once on the island of Herte, Melanie decides that the team needs to go find some Puffins, so next thing Bill knows he is trekking along a steep cliff, trying light the dickens to keep from plunging 200 feet into the water.

Trek at Herte, St. Kilda Archipelago at EveryTrail

Bill still remembers how frightened he was while walking along the edge of the shore towards the southern end of Herte, where hopefully one might find Puffins.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Alas, the Puffins were nowhere to be found, seemingly they avoid humans and nest on Dun, a separate island that once adjoined Herte.

Rather than traverse the trail to the end of Herte, Melanie suggested that they climb to the top of the southern end of the island and followed a road shown on her map. And what a climb it was! Herte is mostly grass and wet muddy surfaces, meaning that the steep slopes are dangerous if one falls as it is likely that one would keep rolling down the slopes into the sea. Once on top, the light began to fade as a mist began to settle on the island.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Returning to the village, enough light was available for a few photographs of houses once occupied by the people of St. Kila, who evacuated the island in 1930, ending over 2,000 years of occupation on this remote place.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

The island is covered with hundreds of cleits, which the St. Kildans used to store feathers, hay, manure, and remains of Gannets which were a staple food source for the inhabitants.

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Our second day on the Island of Herte was a big disappointment. A heavy mist had covered the island during the night and a light rain greeted the team as we once again landed on the island.

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After five hours of traversing the island in the rain, the PTR Team decided that hot coffee and a late lunch on board the Cuma seemed appealing.

The following day we set sail from Herte and journey across the North Atlantic to the Isle of Lewis. Disappointed in the weather, the team shared part of the journey with another party on a wonderful old sailboat.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

As the team left Herte, the light began to change, as it always does in Scotland. We cruised around the archipelago in awe of the cliffs, the sea, and the utter remoteness of the islands.

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

A journey to the St. Kilda Archipelago is a rare event. Only about 3,000 persons visit the islands each year.

If one seeks adventure, then by all means go. If one is prone to seasickness, the trip is not advised, be prepared for rough seas and hours of tossing in the North Atlantic.

If you go, Photo Travel Review Magazine highly recommends that you book with Murdo Macdonald on board the Cuma.

How to get there.

One must get to the Isle of Lewis, best achieved by Ferry arriving at Stornoway. Murdo can arrange to meet you at the ferry for the drive to where the Cuma is anchored.

What to expect.

Outstanding food. Hardy and plenty of it, be prepared for basic Scottish meals served hot.

Fresh water showers and flushing toilets.

Cabins are small, but adequate. Located below deck, each cabin has two bunk beds. Large enough to accommodate Bill’s six foot two frame.

Rough seas and wet weather. Make sure you pack waterproof gear.

A large lounge for meals and relaxing.

An experienced and seasoned crew who know the islands well. The area is treacherous and PTR recommends that you inquire about the credentials of anyone who offers trips to St. Kilda. We think Murdo is the best.

What will it cost?

A six-day trip costs 795 Great British Pounds. Considering that both room and meals are included, this is a bargain!

Photo Travel Review rates the trip on the Cuma as five stars. Our highest rating.

Further Reading.

Wikipedia Article.

National Trust for Scotland.

The End of the Road

By Melanie M

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

From March 24 to April 12, 2010, the PTR Team, Melanie M, Claire Carter, and Bill Lockhart went to the Isle of Lewis, Lochinver and Torridon for a PTR Seminar.  The Team was joined by friends Dougie Salteri and Herman Cater.  The journey was initially about wind and snow and sleet and hail and gray skies but ended very differently.  Did we mention the wind?  Yes, wind at gale force.  But, the light found the team, as it did passages along the way.

Passing Place

By Bill Lockhart

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Did we mention the wind?

Storm on Beach

By Bill Lockhart

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Did we mention the light?

Tràigh Uuige

by Melanie M

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Bill:

“Much like this gentleman who walked among the stones of Callanish, I found myself in contemplation of light and wanderlust.  Like him, I stood among the stones and thought about passages.

En Passant

By Bill Lockhart

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

“I was home again among the hills of my ancestors and anxious to explore.

The Bridge

By Bill Lockhart

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

“Here I discovered a bridge one morning at Camas Uig.  A magnificent bay lay before me with beaches absent of footprints; and not a sound heard except for the wind, and the call of the Oyster Catchers as they flew along the shore.

Dancing Light Among the Stones

By Bill Lockhart

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

“And did I mention the cold?  Or the wind?  Or the stray rain clouds that seem to always place droplets of water on my lens just at the wrong moment?  Or did I mention the people who show up at the wrong time and sorta mill around among the stones?  Or, perhaps a friendly dog who chooses to run to me in the twilight for a quick inspection of me and my equipment?  Did I mention the wind?  Did I mention that my nose is running again?  Did I mention that the wind keeps making my eyes water to the point that I cannot see what I am doing?  Did I mention getting my left knee wet again, stooping as I do to get low for a shot?  Did I mention the sheep droppings?”

Claire:

“Eventually the whole party were to be together in Lochinver (see accommodation link below). Herman, our mountain man from Slovenia,  joining us for his second adventure to Scotland. On the journey up from Glasgow he was admiring the trees and typical highland views and I was wondering what he would make of the area we had chosen for his adventure. To my eyes this region seems almost alien and can be bleak and  and I was hoping he could see the beauty I had found  during my last trip.”

Bleak but with its own Beauty – Quinag

by Claire Carter

“I need not have worried, at times I could see he was spell bound by the unique quality of this ancient landscape.”

Above Lochinver – Quinag Dawn

by Claire Carter

Melanie:

“What a joy to find a rainbow at Ardvreck Castle!  Built in 1490, the ruins of what was once the home of the MacLeods of Assynt stand near the eastern end of Loch Assynt.”

Advreck Castle and Rainbow

by Melanie M

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

While Melanie was finding rainbows, Bill was finding a tight shot with his telephoto.

Castle and Mountain

By Bill Lockhart

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Dougie:

“Enroute to Lochinver I was  always mindful that Herman wouldn’t have seen most of the things that I take for granted, Stirling came up on the right and the Castle and Wallace monument were pointed out, Perthshire’s rich farming land and mountains passed by, the Cairngorms loomed on the horizon and always the time passing so quickly, road works and slow lorries, caravans, cyclist all get in the way when all you want to do is get to the North. Herman was ever watchful out the window, and I watched him to see his mood. Inverness passed and the next town Ullapool and the start of Assynt, then the camera stops would start, weather permitting.”

Quinag Reflection

by Dougie Salteri

Melanie:

“We visited the magnificent area along the shore of Loch Stack and here found one of the Ghillie’s boats sitting near a boat house.”

Sound of Silence

By Melanie M

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Claire:

“It is almost impossible to second guess the weather on the west coast. What is definitely true is that you have to be out there. Watching and waiting for a brief gap, that moment when for a few moments the clouds and the sun decide to dance together.”

Inverpolly – a moment of light

by Claire Carter

Dougie:

“We had a walk around the village one morning when the weather was being awkward, ever watchful Herman spotted a road up the hills behind our cottage, a possible vantage point for Suilven, the jewel of Assynt mountains.”

Canisp and Suilven

by Dougie Salteri

Bill:

“Sometimes just getting to the right spot for a photograph can be a challenge, especially in Scotland.  The hill leading down to this spot was a particular challenge for me!”

On the Beach

By Bill Lockhart

Click on Photograph for a larger version.

Claire:

“Dougie was a star, he seems to survive on very little sleep and still be able to drive for miles (whilst I caught some sneaky zzzzzzzzzz’s in the passenger seat). His knowledge of Scotland is amazing and on one memorable day took us for a grand tour that included Loch Stack. There is no doubt that one needs to be prepared to put some miles in here. Not that there are few opportunities  but there is just so much to miss. Every corner hold the promise of a possible picture as Herman proves here.”

Antlers at Dawn

By Herman Cater

Dougie:

“Being the driver has its drawbacks on single track roads, Oh look at that!… can be fatal, if you do look at what a passenger has spotted. But the expressions when you arrive somewhere beautiful that you know and they don’t is worth the miles of concentration.”

Achmelvich

By Dougie Salteri

Claire:

“One would imagine that being in a group would result in images being duplicated. This is far from the truth. At one particular location, whilst the three photographers were within sight of each other, the following images were taken.”

Inverpolly

By Herman Cater

Inverpolly

By Dougie Salteri

Inverpolly

By Claire Carter

Claire:

“I am a sea junkie  – don’t know why but waves do it for me.  There is nothing better than a dawn following a period of wind, the waves still containing all the energy of previous days. It is hard work, you have to stay focused so not to damage yourself and equipment but every second presents a different view. You start off in near dark, long exposures and the morning blues. The light emerges and you turn up the ISO to try and catch some splashes. The dawn gives some colour and the possibility of reflections in pools. Bliss. Two hours can pass as if a few minutes. You are oblivious to the fact your hands are frozen and you have the ocean in your boots.”

Culkein – getting my fix

by Claire Carter

Dougie:

“Sometimes prizing Claire’s tripod out of the sand or mud is like tearing a child away from the sweetie shop window, never easy without the promise of something else around the corner. Herman was always up for the next image, as he documented our journey as well as doing landscapes. His style was different from us, but his energy and stamina knew no bounds when the mountains were close.”

Suilven

By Herman Cater

Claire:

“After Lochinver we headed a few hours south to Kinlochewe in Torridon, an area I had just travelled through once before but not had the time to stop. We had just two days and two lochs had been selected by Dougie as essential shooting. The first, Loch Maree, is huge and worthy of a week’s visit. Landscape photography is usually about finding a location and “playing it” over many days, searching for an angle. Having Dougie guide us to a spot proved essential as I would have been like a kid in a sweetie shop and would probably have chased my tail rather than finding a place to settle. When we arrived the light was harsh, the sky was clear and I walked around a bit trying to get to grips with where we were and where the light was going. I eventually decided to head down to the loch, a bit of a clamber into the unknown. I eventually found a loch side puddle. I like puddles. They stay flat when lochs won’t. I then began to see the sense of the chosen location.

Loch Maree – reflection in a puddle

By Claire Carter

“The sun was setting behind (fight your own shadow for a while) and the mountain beyond took on an extraordinary colour. And then the show started. Someone let the clouds out. I had a few hours of joy, totally alone and totally absorbed. It is a good job I was alone as at various points I was lying flat out in boggy water, camera inches from the ground and anyone watching might have wondered at my sanity.”

Loch Maree – Torridon

By Claire Carter

Dougie:

“Whilst Claire was wallowing in the mud down by the Loch, Herman had a little snooze his head propped against a rock, drinking in the air of the Wester Ross rugged landscape & I hatched a plot to move a few miles down the lochside. Herman was all for moving and we shot down towards Kinlochewe for a different perspective on Slioch & some golden light, & then a further stop on the way back for Claire. She hadn’t missed us and knew nothing about it till we showed her the images later.”

Loch Maree

by Dougie Salteri

Claire:

“The next morning took us to Loch Clair.  Wind, what wind? It had gone. The one tiny cloud didn’t move for an hour. It was so still I ended up throwing in a rock to make something move.”

Loch Clair – making a splash

By Claire Carter

Dougie:

“Your turn to catch me off guard, I thought it had been a fish rising in the Loch. One of the drawback of flat water quite often is the lack of clouds in the sky. High pressure can do that, and it did it here. We did get some red light with the coming of dawn as compensation though. The thought of breakfast at Mary Ann’s B&B back in Kinlochewe wafted through my head.”

Claire:

“The following morning saw us here again – still no wind or clouds but Dougie managed yet another fine panorama.”

Loch Clair – panorama

by Dougie Salteri

Claire:

“Travelling home through Scotland is always part of the trip, especially when you have to head through Glencoe. Sometimes you just drive through as the it can be grey and uninviting but when there is a promise of light you have to explore and we stopped at Loch Achtriochtan. This is the first time I have taken a photo here that I like but the stillness and angle of the sun gave an opportunity to catch the colours of Scotland.

Loch Achtriochtan – Scottish Hues

by Claire Carter

Dougie:

“On the journey home despite some stops in Torridon and a run up part of the Bealach na Ba towards Applecross, a stop in Loch Carron and the obligatory shots at Eilean Donnan Castle we made good time.  Herman spotted the cliff which you see on Ben Nevis from the road down the side of the Caledonian Canal, towards Corpach and this resulted in a quick stop. As ever the light was playing but no clouds over Ben Starav but Loch Etive was fairly flat and reflecting the wonderful blues and golds. A fitting end piece to another wonderful journey through Scotland.

Liquid Gold – Loch Etive

By Herman Cater

Loch-Cul-Dromannan

by Dougie Salteri

Claire:

The journey had started out with wind and snow. The report of closed roads due to snow had made us question if we would make it there. However, on our final day we recorded a temperature of 20 degrees C  just a few miles from a place just seven weeks previously Melanie, Dougie and I had experienced minus 15.  But that is Scotland, unpredictable, often challenging but always guaranteed to take your breath away (even if it is by the wind).

Recommended accommodation:  Lochinver

Recommended accommodation: Lochinver

Recommended accommodation: Isle of Lewis

]]> http://www.phototravelreview.com/scotland-isle-of-lewis-and-lochinver-a-ptr-seminar/feed/ 2 http://www.phototravelreview.com/one-mans-dream-the-travel-photography-of-rafael-rojas-2/ http://www.phototravelreview.com/one-mans-dream-the-travel-photography-of-rafael-rojas-2/#comments Fri, 19 Mar 2010 11:14:14 +0000 Bill http://www.phototravelreview.com/?p=4645 Continue reading →]]>

Some have dreams. Few achieve them. Rafael Rojas lives his dream.

The Editors of PTR salute Rafael Rojas as one of the world’s best travel photographers. Enjoy the slide show prepared from his work.

All photographs are Copyrighted © 2010 Rafael Rojas, All Rights Reserved, Duplication is prohibited.

From Australia, Polynesia, Namibia, Scotland, Switzerland, France, The United States, Patagonia, Chile, Brazil, to Argentina and other places not listed, he ventures, often in harsh conditions, camping, walking, climbing, he pursues the ultimate dream of all who love wanderlust and travel photography.

The Bass Rock, or simply “The Bass,” is an island in the outer part of the Firth of Forth in the east of Scotland, approximately one mile off North Berwick.  It is 107 meters (351 ft) at its highest point. The island plays host to more than 150,000 Gannets and is the largest single rock gannetry in the world, described famously by Sir David Attenborough as “one of the wildlife wonders of the world.” (Excerpts from Wikipedia)

When I arrived at Dunbar, Scotland, on June 16, 2009, I was filled with excitement about visiting The Bass Rock.  A good friend, David Stevenson, who lives in Edinburgh, had written about his experience visiting the island in a previous post. The photographs from his trip were simply stunning.  My dear friend and PTR colleague, Dr. Melanie M, had arranged for the trip with the Scottish Seabird Centre, and she joined me in the journey.  We were both doubtful that we would make a landing, since only about one in three trips result in visitors getting on the island due to the effects of tides and weather.  So, we were hopeful, but knew that the chances were slim that we would actually land.

Upon arriving at the Harbor at Dunbar, I looked around to find our boat, much to my surprise what I saw was less than what I had expected, although the Seabird Centre had advised that we would be transported in a “working lobster boat.”  Yep, it was a working boat for sure!

Click on photograph for a larger version.

But then, the thought occurred to me that the gentlemen who operate such boats are veterans of the sea, and their experience and knowledge would prove to be essential as we landed on the island.  I respect their skills immensely, as the waters of the North Sea are filled with rocky crags, swift currents, and are subject to extreme changes brought about by weather.  I was in good hands.

The morning air was chilly as we departed the harbor.  Our little boat soon found the roll of the waves favorable as we tossed gently toward the island, about one-hour away.

I had been advised that the crew would be “chumming” at some point in our trip.  “Chumming” is about tossing small pieces of fish into the water along side the boat, the result is somewhat amazing as gulls and gannets soon appear in mass.  I soon found myself handing on for dear life with my Canon EOS 5D Mark II and wide-angle lens, trying to stop the action that was occurring around me.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Melanie did a much better job of capturing the “chumming” action than I.  You can see her fabulous capture at Ephotozine, which earned a “highly commended” award from its editors.

The landing on the island was interesting to say the least.  I am a big guy, about 6′2″ and weigh way too much, about 215 pounds, and I am clumsy.  So, here I am bobbing up and down on the side of the boat, trying to find the courage to step off onto a wet concrete staircase, with 20 pounds of camera gear on my back.  Thank goodness for our guide from the Seabird Centre, who lent a strong hand to get me off the boat!

We worked our way up a long series of stairs to get to an area marked out for us by our guide.  We were required to stay within a good sized area, but could not venture out of the markings because of concerns for the birds and nests.  The island is quite steep and most of the time it was difficult to find level ground.  Along our way up the stairs we passed by the lighthouse on the island.

To put it mildly, I was absolutely stunned by the activity of the birds, tens of thousands of them!  I soon got out my Canon EOS 5D Mark II and my Canon EF 400mm f/4 DO lens and started firing away.  And, time and again, I would find shot after shot after shot filling my viewfinder.  And, I soon mounted my Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6L lens as it was much easier to maneuver for the fast action in front of me.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Canon EF 400mm f/4 DO

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Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 DO

I have done bird photography for many years, but I must state categorically that I have never experienced anything like my day at The Bass Rock.  It is a photographer’s dream come true.  An absolutely fabulous experience that challenges one to do one’s best.  This shot “Behold,” done with the Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 DO is one of my favorites.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

And I like this one, “Head On,” because a head on shot is one of the toughest to get of a bird in flight.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

There were ample opportunities to capture behavior shots as well, as in this one where the male held the females beak in what appeared to me to be a very painful way.  I have read that this is a courting behavior, one which is very aggressive.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

And in this shot, showing the classic pose that Gannets are noted for as part of their mating ritual.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

I won’t bore you with many more shots, you can view my Gannet gallery as I add additional photographs in the future.  Let me just say that I have hundreds of photographs to process and I may never get through all of them.

During my journey to The Bass Rock, what I learned was that my recent choices in camera and lenses paid off.  I am totally in awe of the Canon EOS 5D Mark II and when coupled with either the Canon EF 70-300mm f/4.5-5.6 DO or the Canon EF 400mm f/4 DO, it produces outstanding images of the finest quality.  I could not be more estatic.

For those of you interested, the cost for the six-hour (no restroom) trip is about $150 per person.  Plan on taking along a good water proof jacket and pants, a hat (yep, you will get dumped on), and some good boots or shoes that can grip slippery surfaces well.  Arrangements for the trip must be made with the Seabird Centre, private trips are possible but will cost considerably more.  One cannot find a better bargain for a truly unique and exciting travel adventure.

I end my story of the journey with some additional shots, and my special thanks to Dr. Melanie M for taking the time to make the arrangements for the journey.  It was perhaps the best photographic experience of my life.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Click on photograph for a larger version.

Photo by Dougie Salteri

Mellon Udrigle is a small crofting community that sits at the end of a single-track road, North of the village of Laide in Wester Ross, North West Scotland.

( Mellon fom the Gaelic for ‘little hill’ and udrigle being derived from Norse and meaning ‘gully’ or cleft).

My first visit there was close to five years ago when I was new to photography, and though I thought I knew something about light my technical knowledge was minimal.

I had been staying down the road in Laide when I first visited the beach at Mellon Udrigle in the early evening. My memory is one of rocks glowing pink in the late rays of the day and a vista of magnificent mountains beyond. My attempts to capture it did not do the place justice, though the memory is there.

My second visit was in November 2008, I decided to stay at Mellon Udrigle this time. The first day was one of sunshine and showers, it was a pleasure to be able to dash back inside after each drenching. There were some good moments in the week, but I felt the spot had a lot more to offer.

Having recently acquired the Canon EOS-1Ds Mark III, and not having had the opportunity to put it to the test I decided to travel back North to this spot of memories and take the camera with me.

The drive north was not promising, nor was the forecast and it was with something of a heavy heart that I arrived in Ullapool. I’d arranged to spend my first night in a B&B and had had a vision of visiting some spots I knew in Inverpolly and the coast around Achiltibuie. Let’s just say I visited the spots, and they are still in my list of places to visit again. The  B&B, was delightful with very welcoming hosts.  A fellow guest, who I know only as John, was a fascinating character from Belgium. He knows the Highlands like the back of his hand having spent many vacations there. He did not have his own transport and, as many times before was using public transport, the Post Bus and Shanks’ Pony to get around. He is a wonderful artist, I did get to see a couple of his pieces of work one being a beautiful picture of the island of St Kilda. What was most impressive was that he will not paint a mountain unless he has climbed it. I wonder if there is a photographer out there who does the same?

After a disappointing dawn and a wander to scout a couple of new spots I’d seen on the map, I took the road back to Ullapool. Stopped for groceries in the former Somerfield (now Tesco) and managed again to part with some money in the Ullapool Bookshop.

I arrived at Mellon Udrigle too soon to get in the chalet, but a walk in the brisk wind around the headland watching the Arctic Skuas, cormorants and the odd gannett and the view over the silver, sandy channel to Opinan soon took care of the time.

The next 24 hours continued much in the same vein as the light was concerned but, as I’d journeyed north immediately from work I was ready for some rest. In retrospect that was about the only rest I got for the week, apart from the four hours sleep at night! After the first couple of days of grey and rain, someone decided to switch the lights on and it was time to get out and play.

Having murdered, by drowning a 5D and a 20D, and having had a close shave with a 10D and a rock  I wanted something that might have a better chance of survival. I recalled  a story about Andy Rouse dropping a 1D series camera in the sea and that it had survived. As a fan of getting my feet wet I had hankered after the 1Ds Mkll, but with the Mklll on the market I knew I’d buy it at some point.

What had put me off most was the knowledge I would have to upgrade a pile of stuff to go with it.

My main camera for the past 3 years has been the 5D, and it has served me well. I found it easy to use and the menus easy to navigate. I’ve shot some with the 1D MkllN mainly for wildlife so I have some experience with the weight and feel of the series in my hands. Unfortunately I find landscape photography not as sedentary a pursuit as its wildlife counterpart. My experience of running around with the extra weight on my back was limited. But, you know, you get used to it, or I seem to have done so far. That’s with a heavier tripod too, the last gave up the ghost on the Mull/ Ardnamurchan trip.

This was my real first test of the camera. So far I am pleased with the results. Some good results using higher ISO’s, a big and clear LCD screen and rock solid to hold. After a dreary start to the trip there was a lightshow, with a sunrise the like of which  I’ve not seen for a long, long time. I could turn a 360 degree circle and there was red in the sky in all directions. It was difficult to know in which direction to point the lens.

I will let the images speak for themselves, but it may take a while and a good deal more shooting to share a critical review of the camera.

Accommodation

192 Polbain (B&B)

Clean, warm and very homely with views out to the Summer Isles from your window. Midge my hostess was very understanding. She let me have a light breakfast and made me up a packed lunch with gourmet bacon sandwiches, enough for two people. It is possible to walk from the door onto the surrounding hills, where you will find more than a boulder or two to set the scene against. There is a bar a little further up the road that does evening meals in season.

Ceol Na Mara (self catering)

Basic, but easily adequate, self-catering chalets on the beach. Separate laundry facilities. Plenty of parking. One of the best settings you could have, you only have to open the door and walk out. If you’re too lazy to do that then you can sit and watch the light paint its magic from the window.

Kildonan (self catering)

Five years since I stayed here. Very clean and comfortable with all the facilities you might want. A short walk through a field down to a rocky shore with bags of interest for photographers. Be prepared to wake up early, the sunrise from here can be magnificent.

Best time to go

Late spring, before the midges get going and autumn when the colours in the trees aroud Gruinard Bay, Loch Maree and the Badachro are should be stunning (if conditions have been favourable the fungi are amazing).  Winter can have it’s magic, but many may find it too bleak and wet and there few facilities open to divert your attention.

Other places to visit in the area

Just a very small sample of what there is to see, but places I have visited and spent some time at are:

Loch Maree and Torridon

Shieldaig, by the Applecross Peninsula

Inverpolly, Achiltibuie and the Summer Isles.

Loch Assynt and the Stoer Peninsula

The Lighthouse at Rhue and Ullapool (Pay a visit to the Ceilidh Place while in Ullapool. Great place for a coffee or a beer, good food, artwork and a bookshop to browse for titles of local interest).

Gruinard Bay

When the light is bad

Sit back and listen to the sound of the wind and the rain. Go look for otters, take a boat trip to look for wales and porpoise. Look for macro stuff on the beach. Look at your maps and guide books and go out to scout different locations.

Dundonnell Woodland

When the light is good

Keep going, you don’t know when it’s going to get better.

Melanie, May 2009.

by Claire

Every trip, no matter how poor the weather, has its moments that will be recorded in the brain even if not caught on camera. Bringing home memories and stories to retell is a good second best to having a memory card full of images. This trip failed to produce the light that I had envisaged but there were two events that are etched on my mind and will cause me to smile for years to come.

The first involved a pine marten. If you were to ask me what my genre of photography is I would answer landscape but I get huge kicks from seeing wild animals. We watch the nature programmes on TV but if most people actually recount how many truly wild mammal encounters we have in the UK it would be small. I spend hours wandering around the countryside but rarely glimpse anything other than road kill. The prospect of seeing a pine marten was therefore exciting and Mel, Dougie and Bill had assured me I would as they had seen one on a previous trip in the garden where we were staying.

In preparation for this I had brought peanuts with me. The first evening (they tend to come out to feed close to houses at dusk) had not produced a result but I had remembered that they love peanut butter so I zipped up a concoction in the blender. Again no result. I therefore grabbed a few jars of peanut butter from a shop. The shops in this part of the world are almost as rare as the animals so this was a bonus. I decided that a large dollop was needed to waft in the wind so found a small glass dish and filled it. The following morning it had gone. I don’t mean just the peanuts, I mean the dish. Gone.

Undeterred I filled the lid from the jar and placed it close to the window on the picnic table. As I was cooking supper the beastie arrived. We had a fabulous view. The onions were burnt but it didn’t matter as I had seen something few people have – and they are BIG, the size of a cat. As it left it picked up the lid and carried it away. We had a laugh about what Mrs Pine Marten would make of the latest treasure brought home.

My final attempt to see and keep the animal in view involved the whole jar. Surely a whole bottle would be safe?  I was wrong. This too disappeared. It was probably a good thing I had to go home. Who knows where this experiment would have gone and I am sorry that I have inadvertently left the countryside littered with items from our kitchen. I just hope Mrs PM has uses for them….. What she doesn’t know is that I have a huge smile on my face recollecting this event. A precious memory.

The second encounter is one I have waited for years to see. The Scottish otter has proved so elusive to me. I’ve had glimpses but never been able to say I have really watched them. This time I was able to see three playing and diving for about 45 minutes, too far away for my camera to record them well but the event is imprinted on my brain. A real hallelujah moment.

So what about the photography?  I can only imagine what this area looks like in good light. We had a few hours with sun but most were when it was too high, we had some interesting skies but they were brief. Here below are the few shots that are worth showing. I wasn’t able to stay for the Mull part of the trip but I just ask you to imagine what Ardnamurchan has to offer with  frosts and mists – I will return and next time I will work out a way to photograph that beautiful peanut lover.

Rain and Scotland go together, it’s the package you sign up for if you decide to go. As I sit here I can close my eyes and imagine the rain falling outside, in my mind I can see the unique blue light that radiates from the water in the North West Highlands and I know that one day it will be home.

A romantic notion and an image it is difficult to yearn for if your travelling time is limited and, if it is a spot you may not return to again. For photographers it can be hard keep the enthusiasm going when you have days and days of wet and grey. Most travellers would feel themselves fortunate to spend a week in Scotland without wet stuff coming out of the sky but it is often water in the atmosphere that provides photographers with the light we dream of.

During the weeks preceding the Ardnamurchan/Mull trip we had snow, frosts, mist, beautiful sunrises and exquisite light at the end of the day. It was disappointing to arrive on Rannoch Moor with snow deep on the ground but rain all around. Not the conditions I’d have wished for to try out a new camera. But, when you find yourself in some of the most magnificent scenery that Scotland has to offer, the desire to go out and get something is always strong.

That kind of set the scene for the coming days, though on Ardnamurchan any snow had gone. The dreary days ahead gave us the opportunity to make the most of the accommodation. It is part of my dream to look out of the window to the sea. As the rain falls and the wind whips up the waves I can sit comfortably warm inside with one of the many books yet on my wish list to read. Shoreline Cottages are just the place to make this dream a reality. From the windows we could watch the clouds scudding by, watch the rain fall on the decking and watch all the birds that came to feast on the pickings left for the pine martin (Claire will tell you the tale)

On one of the dreary days we journeyed to Mallaig and Arisaig (a very welcome cup of coffee in the Spar store, as the 2 nearby cafes were closed), it made a good reconnaissance trip. The day could have been a write off but for the uplifting experience of spotting an otter silhouetted against the skyline on a rock as it finished its feast. It returned to the waters of Loch Ailort to its cubs and we were able to watch the three of them dip and dive and play together. They were not close enough to photograph well, but they did make us smile and gave us a feeling of triumph.

In the rain and grey we kept an eye on the forecast and made ourselves go out, to at least explore and we did find some light, it may be that the subject matter was not what I had in mind and that it was too cold for some people to hold a camera.

Then there was the time it all came together at Ardnamurchan lighthouse, though it was a bit of a wait in a wicked wind before the sun slipped through the break in the cloud to make the rocks glow.

I’m always suspicious of those who use the description of ‘interesting’ for any outdoor activity, but it is the word I would use for our crossing from Kilchoan to Mull. The ferry took only 2 cars, and it was necessary to reverse down a wet and windy slipway and up a steep ramp onto the ferry that bobbed quite violently in the waves. Not a manoeuvre for the faint hearted! The crossing was wild, but I was glad to be inside the car as the foot passengers on deck got more than a little wet.

A revisit for me to the Isle of Mull, my last having been close to three years ago and I had a dream to replicate some of the light I caught there before. It was not to be. The spell of dreich weather followed us like a cloud of midges at sunset on a still summer’s day.

Once again our accommodation provided us with a luxury retreat and we had the added bonus of it being on the path of a sea eagle that flew over us at breakfast though, unfortunately, before we had the chance to realise what we were seeing. Again here the wildlife abounded and it was a very special moment to watch an otter run over the dunes at Calgary. Dougie, I think, caught a glimpse as it ran in front of his wide-angle lens and into the sea at his feet.

As the grey continued it added to the mood and we did find stuff to point our lenses at. These boats are well known and were so close to our accommodation it was difficult not to stop and take them in. The island though is scattered with abandoned boats, you just need to explore to find them.

Something I try to tell myself at home is that you need to keep getting out if you want to capture something special. It’s easier to put into practice when you are away from home as you want to see as much of a place as possible and are always looking for spots to return to. We’d had a day driving around in thick mist and an unsuccessful otter hunt, we were tired and hungry, but some light moving down from the north spurred us on – - -

As I sit here putting together these few words I know I want to be back there. The rain of Scotland is part of my blood. Rainy days I can deal with, I need a little more help with Mondays.

Recommended Reading

Walking The Isles of Mull, Iona, Coll and Tiree

Walking Glenfinnan The Road to the Isles

Both the above are delightful volumes from the Clan Walk Guides and both were used in this and previous trips.

For a little sense of history of the places visited try these from Birlinn:

Night Falls On Ardnamurchan

The Field Of Sighing

Island Voices, Traditions of North Mull

]]> http://www.phototravelreview.com/sunshine-on-a-rainy-day-%e2%80%93-a-trip-to-ardnamurchan-and-mull/feed/ 1 http://www.phototravelreview.com/guest-article-scotland-in-the-rain/ http://www.phototravelreview.com/guest-article-scotland-in-the-rain/#comments Wed, 11 Mar 2009 11:27:00 +0000 Bill http://www.phototravelreview.com/?p=1416 Continue reading →]]> By Dougie Salteri

Link to his website: www.douglassalteri.co.uk

Note: Click on Any Photograph for a Larger Version

You need to have a philosophical attitude towards the weather if you shoot landscapes in Scotland, especially in the regions of the country to the West with it’s Lochs and mountains and all of the things we love to look at and enjoy.

I Hate Rain . . . but after rain comes rainbows.

Rain can be the most depressing of conditions in natures armoury, but to the photographer it should be welcomed with open arms. “What” I hear you cry, welcome. Well yes because without rain we wouldn’t have Lochs and Lake (we only have one lake in Scotland).

I Hate Rain . . .but let’s make waves.

We would never see a rainbow, or smell the fresh smell of a grasses freshly washed by a passing shower of rain. Wild flowers wouldn’t bloom, clouds wouldn’t float across blue skies and reflect so beautifully in the Lochs. No more boats bobbing at anchor in the rivers and sailing into the sunset.

I Hate Rain . . . but my Granny was a Loch.

So the next time you sit beside a Loch or wait for the clouds to part and let some light down on your particular bit of heaven on earth, ponder a while the World without rain.

I Hate Rain . . . but Noah was a photographer.

A drab hot place without lots of the elements which make the landscape work for photographers, and forget the dribble of water trickling down the little chink in your waterproof collar and think of all the fun you have doing what you love. The best hobby in the world. Keep enduring the rain because when it slows there might just be a spectacular rainbow arcing across that sky in front of your lens, don’t forget to wipe the filter.

I Hate Rain . . .but I do love beaches

I hope you’ve enjoyed my thoughts on rain and that it might just bring a little comfort  someday when you’re sure the Sun will never shine again, because it surely will.

*****

Douglas Salteri has 50 years of  photographic experience, mostly in newspapers. He first used a camera when he was 12 years old, a Kodak Brownie 127. He started work at 15, processing colour film and making prints for a couple of years, and then moved to newspapers where he worked as a photographer for 20 odd years using all sorts of cameras, Rollei’s, Pentax, Canon, Nikon and Hasselblad.  As he got older he moved to the Picture Desk and worked his way through the ranks, and finally became Picture Editor of The Herald where he retired in 2006. Now happily landscaping around Scotland with  A Canon 5D II and some lenses.  As he says: ” I worked at what has always been my hobby, it doesn’t get better than that.”

“Dougie,” to his friends, he is affectionally referred to as “Lord Douglas” by the PTR Team.

In the days ahead the team will discuss the seminar in great detail, including thoughts about how to deal with bad weather, and impressions of new equipment recently acquired by seminar participants, including the Canon 1Ds Mark III, the Canon 5d Mark II, and the Canon 24mm II lens.  We will also review accommodations, clothing, and the perils of international travel.  We have much to report so please visit again as we outline our experiences during a photographic holiday.

Here, PTR team memer Melanie sets up for a photograph while other participants look on.

Any day in Scotland is a good day, and once in a while the light was good and gave the participants the opportunity to find a subject worth study as in this shot of a Highland Cow by Bill.

As the saying goes, it takes rain to produce rainbows.  And, seminar participants had several opportunities for catching shots of rainbows, as in this shot by Bill of a rainbow over Duart Castle, historic home of the Clan Maclean.

Please visit with us in the days ahead as we show how seminar participants found light in incredibly challenging situations with example photographs done by some of the participants.

We might even see some shots done with the Canon Powershot G9 and G10.  Like this one done of a lighthouse from a Ferry while crossing from the Isle of Mull to Oban.

Also, we might discuss how to attract a Pine Martin using peanut butter, or what it is like to sit in rain for two hours in the hopes of spotting an Otter.

What we will discuss is the wonderful opportunities one can find during a seminar through good discussions, shared advice, and encouragement of one another.

–The PTR Team