Birthdays are terrific excuses for a party up at Blueblood. In fact, we need no excuse at all. Since there are now facilities for sleeping over, Eunie and I went up on Saturday afternoon for a small party to celebrate Karen Simmons birthday. Since I am still sick as a dog and didn’t feel much like partying hard, I fooled around with my Canon G11 camera to see how far I could stretch it. It proved to be fairly flexible.

For instance, here’s a passable shot taken of the party makers around the picnic table by candle light only:

I think that I shot this at ISO 1600 and it took a 1/4 second exposure. I had to give the “hold still” warning, but the shot did turn out nicely. I should mention that I had the camera mounted on a tripod, as with all of the rest of these shots. I like the shot. It has just the right mood and the lighting is very realistic. Not bad for a camera that sells for a little over US$400.

This shot might fool you, at first. It looks like a poor-quality image from a cell phone. However, if you consider that it was exposed only by the light of a full moon shining through clouds, it takes on a whole new aspect:

I shot it from the balcony overhanging the first floor (second floor for Yanks – the ground floor is called the ground floor by Australians – the next one up is the first floor). Believe it or not, this image was taken at ISO 80 for fifteen seconds. Therefore, it had practically no noise and was more or less perfect as it came from the camera. The long exposure accounts for the glassy water.

Here’s another one take from the beach level: You can clearly see Kar Kar Island  in the distance:

Since the giant earthquake in Chile was on everybody’s mind and we had no idea when or if a giant tsunami would engulf us, the party had a bit of a fatalistic flavour to it. “Wonder when it will get here?” “How big do you reckon it might be?” were popular topics of conversation.

Here is a similar shot taken after we lit the bonfire. You can see the firelight illuminating the sterns of Lying Dog  and Sanguma,  which were, here at about midnight, already beached by the low tide:

I noted a crazy thing which I had never even considered as I was shooting these long exposures. The night sky is not  black as it appears to our eyes. It is just as blue as it is in the day time, but it is very, very dark, so our eyes can’t see it. Below a certain light level, everything is just shades of grey to our eyes, even though colour still remains in the scene. It’s because our colour light receptors drop out of the data stream once the light level is low enough. They just don’t respond.

This shot is amusing, but I reckoned that I could do better:

Though the sparks are interesting (I had Rich Jones poking the fire to make more), the flames were badly overexposed and I lost all the detail.

This one turned out much better:

Moving away from the fire improved the shot. It’s a long exposure, so the flames are blurry, but the image is much more pleasing;

I couldn’t end this without showing you this lovely shot of Jenn Miller taken only by moonlight and the flames of the dwindling bonfire:

It’s not perfect, because it’s very difficult to hold perfectly still for four seconds, but it clicks for me. I’m very happy with it.

The tsunami never arrived. This is just as well, as we had no plans to go anywhere.

I have a few less formal shots from the wedding of Trevor Hattersley and Karen Simmons last Saturday. I had a great time. I love weddings. I’ve performed marriages for sixteen couples since I became a Registered Celebrant ten years or so ago. As far as I know, all but one couple are still together. That’s a pretty good record, but I can’t make any claim on it. Finding a mate is a crap-shoot.

We had a batch of Champagne that was inordinately difficult to open. Here’s our Master of Ceremonies, Mike Cassell doing his “Power Opening” trick for the ladies:

They were most appreciative. By the way, the new construction at Blueblood isn’t quite finished, as you can see. The broom is for cleaning up broken wine glasses, of which there were quite a few.

Here’s Trevor looking very relaxed, compared to an hour earlier, as he toasts his bride, Karen:

You may have noticed that the dress code at the wedding was “Tropical Whatever”.

And here is Trevor as we all know him – doing something iffy with a lady. His iffy somethings are now going to be limited to a single recipient. Lucky guy!

The winner of the Spiffy Gentleman’s Outfit  prize went to Charlie Edmund who, while tardy in arrival, was resplendent in attire:

Did you ever see a necktie glow like that? I think that he’s making some kind of point here in this image. That would be very much in character.

This is a sight which several people claimed had never before been seen – our very own charming and oh, so cherished Dr. John “Tinpis” Mackerel in the ocean!

And here are two fools, whose identity I will conceal out of pure mercy, attempting to stand up on a sailboard:

Never let it be said that this was not a joyous day for all.

It would be far too easy for me to make myself the actor in this little scene. And it’s very difficult to avoid the temptation. It’s not often that one gets to be so intimately involved, in such a positive and enduring way, in the lives of one’s closest friends. On Saturday, I was privileged to be the Registered Celebrant at the wedding of Trevor Hattersley and Karen Simmons. Here is the cover of the Wedding Program:

Trevor and Karen chose every word spoken in their wedding ceremony. Trevor said that he had thought about it “for weeks” and came up with a program over which they toiled for perfection for a few days. I much prefer that couples write their own ceremonies. These two did the job perfectly.

Fiona Buffini read The Selfish Giant  by Oscar Wilde. It was wondrous to watch faces progress from puzzlement to comprehension as the story unfolded. It’s a wonderful tale of transformation.  Then I said my little bit to get the show rolling. Trevor and Karen read their identical vows in unison, again speaking their own words. The mixture of laughter and tears during this brief performance was most touching and not a little amusing:

The formalities and Signing of the Registry being duly completed, we proceeded eventually to the Cake Cutting:

Pascal’s “Best Man’s Speech” was one of the tamer of those that I have heard. I have to commend Dr. Michon for showing remarkable restraint.

Here’s a nice shot of Trevor, Karen and Alexander:

And, the obligatory Wedding Party Scene:

Plus the obilgatory bigger wedding party scene:

And now we get all of the women with Trevor:

And all of the men with Karen:

I can’t say any more. It was Trevor and Karen’s day. What it meant to me to be honoured by them in this way is obvious. To put words to it would be to diminish it.

So, I’ll close by wishing my dear friends all of the happiness that life has brought to me through my marriage.

It should happen for all of us.

This Tuesday was Melbourne Cup Day. It’s arguably the biggest horse-race event in Australia and it’s a very big deal here in Papua New Guinea. Country Women’s Association has traditionally hosted a party for the event. This year was a bit different from the last one that I attended.

Work prevented me from attending this year until my wife, Eunice, called me at the office to suggest that she was ready to be picked up at the CWA Cottage. I was mildly surprised to arrive to a room packed full of . . . uh . . . happy women who descended on me, the only man present, as a plague of locusts. It was like a dream come true.

The dual-purpose party served also to celebrate the impending marriage of Karen Simmons to Trevor Hattersley. I suspect that the intensity of the partying (not to mention the number of empty Champagne bottles) was due to the nearness of the wedding at which I will participate as the Celebrant on Saturday.

In case you don’t remember Karen, I’ll show you an image that you’ve seen here on Madang – Ples Bilong Mi  before – the way The Water People  know her:

I really love that image. It’s one of the best photographs that I’ve ever captured. It’s not technically perfect, but it has a beautiful voice – like a Paul Simon love song.

I present here this humongous gallery uncensored and without comment:  (What could I say, anyway? Girls just want to have fun!)

I’m looking forward to the Wedding on Saturday. It will be a pleasure to be the Celebrant at the marriage of two of my fondest friends. These things come along only a few times in one’s life. It’s a blessing to me.

Last Tuesday evening a small group of Trevor Hattersley’s friends gathered at the Madang Club to celebrate his impending marriage to Karen Simmons. The event started with the usual Stag Party nonsense. I should mention, however, that it was remarkably constrained. I’ve been to a few of these before. This was tame by comparison. A few beers were consumed, a few cigars smoked and a smattering of mildly off-colour jokes were offered.

Then occurred the tragedy. Someone, who shall remain nameless (as shall all of the participants) decided, in a moment of dementia, that we should all  play pool at one  table. Then commenced a game of pool the rules of which were so arcane and complex that I had already lost K50 by the time that I figured out by osmosis when it was my turn to shoot.

About half-way through the game, the rules were changed once again. Anyone who dropped the cue ball had to down a shot. Fortunately I had already switched to soda water as my beverage. I dropped the cue four times and dutifully downed four shots of Cointreau. When I woke up in the morning clear headed I could still taste oranges.

This is the man responsible for this debacle:

An now, for your amazement, I present a large gallery of those who could arguably be named the “World’s Worst Pool Shots”:

It will be a while before I do this again.

Photography is about many different things. However, as my dad used to say when he was teaching me, “Composition is King.” It’s hardly innovative – artists of all breeds have held fast to this doctrine since they were painting horses on the walls of caves. It is especially true of photography because photography is all about the image. Materials, technique, process, and other aspects of production are meaningless unless the image speaks – authoritatively. A photograph that fails to find its voice is akin to a book containing only blank pages.

More than any other art form photography is dependent on light and the way it interacts with our physical world. Painters have known this for centuries. The great masters were technicians with their pigments, but near gods in their understanding of light. Photographers have it easy in a way. The pigments and basic form are supplied to us by nature. All we have to do is play with the light. That, along with composition, is really all there is to photography.

I have shown you several sunrise single frames and panoramas here, here, here, here, and here (among others – search for “sunrise” in the search box). You’ve seen several dramatically different interpretations of exactly the same scene. There are only two things that make them different. First, there is what is going on with the light. The second, is how do I want to interpret what the light is saying to me. What language do I want to use when I tell you what I saw:

In the version of the harbour scene above, I was playing with light. Nature gave me everything I needed, except an idea.

It was very hazy. The water was glassy. The sun felt close and hot. I had great difficulty seeing the screen on my camera because of the glare. It made my eyes water. The boat was sighing slowly through the tepid, reflective liquid. Colours were exhausted nearly to extinction by the battle with the blazing star. These simple observations seemed to be to be the voice of the composition speaking to me. It doesn’t take a fancy camera or great knowledge of photography to turn snapshots into art.

You just have to learn to listen with your eyes.

I’ll show you another simple example of my point. Here’s a little coastal cargo boat about a hundred metres in front of my house. It was morning and I was facing into the sun. The boat was about two thirds of the distance from my house to the other side of the harbour. As you can see, the scene was backlit – the light is coming from behind the subject – usually a difficult situation unless you’re doing it on purpose.

I could detect with my eyes, but not see on the screen, that there was a haze near the water, but above the haze, the air was clearer. The sky was nearly featureless – indeterminate shades of grey. People on the boat noticed me taking a photo. A fellow pointed at me. A woman setting next to him waved. I wanted to give the photo some life.

Here is the original:

Here is the same snapshot on steroids:

I wanted to keep the hazy layer near the water, so I did little with that. I made a graduated mask starting at about the top of the boat and getting stronger as it went to the top of the frame. I boosted the contrast in this masked-off area to let the haze seem to fade into clarity – as I saw it with my eyes. It had the side benefit of bringing up the clouds in the sky. All that I had left to do was to increase the contrast and the strength of the colours (saturation) in the area of the photo not covered by the mask. This brought the boat closer and gave it some life. It also accentuated the reflection of the tarpaulin in the water.

The whole process took about ten minutes and cost me nothing but my time. I paid that price gladly. It’s still pretty much a snapshot, but now it’s a more interesting snapshot.

I heard several comments about the photo that I showed to you of Karen and the blue fish at Pig Island. I decided to work up the other shot that I didn’t think was as good. I’m glad I did. It’s better than I thought it would be:

Here, the light is doing all the work for me. The only two problems were to control the red glow in the hazy water created by the sun reflecting from Karen’s tan and to return the black on her bikini to black instead of a dull red. It took a bit longer for this one, but it was worth the effort.

A friend asked me recently if she could really trust any photograph to be true – to truly represent reality. I told her possibly yes, if she watched the photographer capture the image on film and then took the film from the camera herself and observed it being processed and printed at a lab.

Otherwise, forget it. Assume it’s faked.

Or, at the very least, very gently massaged.

Today we went to Magic Passage for our Saturday morning dive. There was a fairly strong incoming current and the water was very warm.

Here is Tracey, Albert, and Anna heading out to the mouth of the passage:

At about twenty metres, Albert was frantically pointing under a ledge. I had to stand on my head to get a shot. It’s two spot-fin lionfish lurking next to a bright orange sponge. I was, of course seeing all this upside-down. I inverted the photo so as not to give you vertigo:

When we returned to the boat, I found out that he was actually trying to show me a painted lobster. Oh well . . .

Back up on top of the reef I spotted this arc-eyed hawkfish. It’s one of less common hawkfish in these waters:

After our dive we went over to Pig Island for some snorkelling and sun. There were thousands of small fish swimming all around. We threw some bits of bread in the water and they gathered around us. Karen was mesmerized by them. I like this shot of “aquarium swimming”:

Even after all the diving that I’ve done, I still enjoy snorkelling as well. You don’t have to be concerned about a lot of gear and it is wonderfully relaxing, especially when the water feels like a warm bath.

I may as well show you this morning’s sunrise while I’m at it:

Just another day in Paradise.