October 29^th, 2012

We arrived in Johannesburg at 8am on October 27th after an 8 1/2 hour flight from Buenos Aires. It really wasn’t so painful. Unfortunately, we took a wrong turn exiting the plane and ended up in immigration instead of continuing to our next international flight – so much for being seasoned travelers. We were confused and it must have been obvious, because that’s when a customs officer found us and asked for our passports. Not knowing what to do we handed them over, but the officer just walked away. We began following him around asking why he had our passports. The officer just ignored us. Later in the trip, a South African man told us that this is a technique for inciting you to offer a bribe. Well, we were clueless to the game and simply kept following the man around like little lost puppies. The officer ignored everything we said and kept on walking. This went on for about 30 minutes and I was getting nervous about missing our connecting flight to Zambia and, more importantly, getting our passports back. He must have gotten bored because he finally took us to a room where he proceeded to half-heartedly search our luggage. In the end, I think he started to feel sorry for us and eventually gave up hope for any bribe money. He was laughing as he returned our passports and then gave us directions.

We landed in Mfuwe, Zambia on a chartered flight by 10am on Oct 28th. A French Belgian woman named Izzy met us at the airport and quickly moved us into three open safari vehicles for a 2 hour and 45 minute drive on dirt roads to South Luang wa National Park. More specifically, the Kaingo Camp. The drive was hot, windy, and dusty – three things we would get very used to in the following days. By 3pm we were out driving around the park and getting our first look at zebra, hippo, elephant and impala. We even found a small lion pride with two adult females, two adult males, and five nine-month old cubs. Hooded Vultures waited on the ground near lounging lions, waiting to feed on lion dung. The day ended with sunset on the Luangwa River. Hippos waded in the water while elephants dusted themselves on the riverbank. Crocodiles slowly slid back into the water once the sun touched the horizon. A typical African sunset.

Oct 31^st, 2012

It‘s my birthday today and it couldn’t have been any better. We started the morning by photographing a large heard of Cape Buffalo, a Cookson’s Wildebeest, and a Western-banded Snake Eagle. The eagle was far from the road, so we asked if we could get out of the vehicle and move a little closer. After looking around briefly, the guide and armed guard both agreed it was safe and allowed us to exit.  German stayed in the vehicle while Chris and I moved forward slowly. We made it about 15 meters when I heard German say, “Laura, you’re being stalked by a lion.” I decided he was kidding. That was when our guide said, “Please walk back to the vehicle slowly”. I looked around and found a female lioness sitting up and watching us very carefully, only sixty meters away. We made our way to the Land Rover moving backward, our eyes never leaving the lioness. That’s when we saw movement about half the distance between the lioness and us. A nine-month old cub raised his head up and over the tall grass, blood all over his mouth and nose. To more heads popped up beside him. On the other side of the cubs sat a second lioness, also staring at us intently. It was a kill.

The good news is that we made it back into the vehicle (or I don’t think I’d be writing this now). Once safe, we got a little closer to the action. The three cubs were hot and panting as they fought each other over the head of a warthog. The females stayed alert but allowed us to get fairly close in the vehicle as we photographed the cubs eating. One of the cubs was more dominant than the other two. He kept control of the food, occasionally hissing and scratching at the others. We stayed until he dragged the warthog head under a thick bush. We were so wrapped up in photographing the action that the reality of the potential danger we had put ourselves in didn’t really register until later. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it!

But, the day wasn’t over yet. Just as we were heading back to camp, we found another lioness lying in the shade directly on the side of the road. We stopped. That’s when a little head popped up from under the mother’s belly. A three-month old cub was nursing. He was so small. Then two more cubs came around the back of the mother and began playing in front of us. One ran away as the mother stood up and walked farther into the bush, but two of the cubs continued to play right beside the vehicle. Bright eyes watched us carefully, interested in every move and noise we made.

November 1^st, 2012

Today, it was my turn to stalk a lion…on foot and without a vehicle! I was with Derrick (the owner of the camp), Patrick (a 20 year seasoned guide), German, and Max (our armed guard). We took two canoes across the Luangwa River paddling through crocodiles and a hippo pod. (This started my blood moving rather quickly!) We then hiked along the base of a cliff and up to a hippo trail on the opposite side of the river. We followed the hippo trail up the bank and began crawling forward slowly. The lion was an adult male, unfamiliar to Derrick and Patrick. The plan was to get closer and try to ID him. We crawled behind logs and bushes, following the armed guard as we got closer and closer. Eventually, the lion saw us but remained lying on the edge of the riverbank. We waited a little while, hoping he would get comfortable with us. Then, we slowly began moving forward once again. We made it about 100 meters away when he stood up and moved inland. He stopped and sat down regarding our presence for a little while. That’s when Derrick says, “Be ready with your camera he may do a mock charge!” What? All I could think was how do I know if it’s a mock charge or a real charge? Fortunately, the lion decided we weren’t worth his trouble and retreated into the brush. I can’t tell you how much adrenaline was coursing through my body the entire time.

On the night drive, we found several hyena feeding on a dead buffalo and tracked a one-eyed leopard through the brush. You’d think this would be enough excitement for one night, but it wasn’t over yet. A little later, we spotted a spitting cobra crossing the road. The snake was as long as the dirt road was wide. The guide lost track of it and asked if we could see how close it was, he didn’t want it climbing underneath the vehicle. As he found it again with the spotting light, the snake flattened out its hood in an aggressive gesture and began climbing the bush immediately beside us. It was climbing fast! I watched in ignorance as the cobra positioned itself beside the vehicle and turned with its hood still extended. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guide and the armed guard jump to the other side of the vehicle. I decided that if they jumped I should be jumping as well, which in turn made German jump. Apparently, spitting cobras spit quite a distance and will aim at your eyes in order to blind you. The guide started the vehicle and we quickly sped away. We were all laughing – once we were out of harm’s way.

November 2^nd, 2012

At dinner tonight, we were treated to an unusual natural event instead of to desert! As we began our outdoor meal, a few flying insects started gathering  around the candles in the center of the table. They were about 1cm long with 4cm wings. They fluttered about the light occasionally getting stuck in the candle wax. It reminded me of an experience I had in Argentina, where just before a big seasonal rain, thousands of water beetles descended on our dinner table during an outdoor asado. I told this story and everyone chuckled. Little did we know what was actually to come. As we ate, more and more of these bugs came to dinner. Eventually, they were at every outdoor light source and now swarming the table. Termites! Big ones! The locals informed us that it would only get worse, so we should just sit back and enjoy. Everyone was fascinated and rather tolerant of the fact that thousands of large insects were crawling on and all around us. It was impossible to go into your tent without being followed by more bugs and if you turned on a light indoors, termites would begin crawling through every nook and cranny to get inside. So, we all just walked around and enjoyed one of nature’s grand events. For the locals, this was harvest time. The cooks and waiters went for large buckets that they then filled with water. They put the buckets under the lights and let the bugs fall to their watery graves. They were even scooping up huge handfulls from the ground.  Once the termites are collected, they take them to be dried and then fried up for dinner. The bartender wasn’t waiting. He was picking up termites that landed on his bar and eating them one by one, right then and there. Once you gave in to the strangeness of the situation, it was really rather funny. Everyone was laughing and taking videos of the whole event. Poor termites, they were only trying to find mates and then move off to start new colonies. In Zambia this time of year, they’re transitioning from dry to wet season and we had just had one of the first rains last night. That’s perfect timing in the termite world. It’s their cue to emerge, disperse, land, lose their wings, and then walk around looking for a special friend! Once paired, the boy follows the girl as they crawl off into the moonlight, the promise of a new family of millions just on the horizon…

November 6^th, 2012

Today, we left for northeast Zambia. More specifically, Kansanka National Park, a place that’s miles away from nothing. We landed by 10am on a dirt landing strip. Again, it was dusty and over 100F.  We’ve come to see and photograph an unusual sight. In late October, an astounding eight million Straw-colored Fruit Bats arrive here from the Congo to feed on wild fruit. At twilight, bats fill the sky in all directions as they leave their roost to feed through the night. This has to be one of Africa’s most amazing and unusual wildlife spectacles. I was very excited. But, the day was hot and uncomfortable. The wait from 10am until 4:30pm, when we left to see the bats, was very long. Finally, we loaded up the truck and left. It was a 15-minute drive and then a mile or so walk through thick grasses to 3 blinds positioned at the edge of the bat roost.  The view from the blinds was limited and we had a cloudy sunset, so the lack of light made shooting difficult. We left by 7:45pm and were really disappointed with the experience. There’s got to be a better way to do this.

November 8^th, 2012

We’ve spent the past 2 days photographing the bats at Kasanka. We had a slow start but were able to move shooting positions and had the luck of good weather the following days. It’s an amazing thing to watch, especially if you like bats as much as I do. The bats stay in the forest roost during the day, but are not totally inactive. Many roost side by side in tall, spindly tree branches that occasionally break under their weight. Crocodiles, vultures, and the occasional leopard wait below for dinner to fall. But, most bats spin restlessly in a furious circle at the center of the forest reminding me of the Tasmanian devil as they spin. On one afternoon, we went to a blind built by the BBC for filming David Attenborough’s Life series. The blind is a two story rickety structure high up in a tree, but has a good view down into the roost. Getting the gear up and down the unstable ladder was interesting to say the least. At dusk, bats slowly leave moving out in all directions, going to feed on fruit for the duration of the night. By twilight the next morning they come back to the roost. Literally covering the sky as they move back and forth.

On our last morning the bats performed magnificently. They stayed spinning around the roost in a high, wide tornado then slowly spread out to cover the sun along the horizon. In no time at all, they covered the sky in all directions sometimes flying only meters above our heads. It was a concert of motion, light, and silhouettes that I could have not conducted any better myself. The perfect ending to a fantastic trip!

North Central Argentina is grand, colorful, and truly unique. Our most recent Frontera trip took us back through the Valle Calchaqui and the Quebrada de Humahuaca. Areas used by Incan traders so many years ago. Incan ruins abound in these areas and many of the people here are direct descendants of the Inca.  We visited Pucará de Tilcara, one of the best-known archeological ruins in the Quebrada de Humahuaca and, coincidentally, discovered by German’s grandfather Juan Bautista Ambrosetti. Many of the indigenous people living here, survive as goat herders scraping out a living in the vast high altitude lands of the Puna. The Puna is an eco-region between 10,500 and 16,500 feet found in the central Andes Mountains of South America. It’s a sparsely populated region of mostly dry desert and shrub-lands with the occasional wetland.

We were lucky to have met so many wonderful people, many who invited us into their homes to take a peek at lives we can’t imagine. Most of them lived far below what we consider the poverty line, but they were warm and welcoming, even proud of our interest in their lives. In a couple places, we found children that had been left alone for days while parents tended goats up in the hills or had walked 30 miles into the nearest town for supplies. One group of young women were living alone with multiple children in an almost barren landscape. When we arrived, they were tending their goats, helping mother goats have their babies. We visited the same family last year but this year we brought shoes, warm clothes, candy, and toys as gifts.

We did have a bumpy start as one client missed his flight to Argentina and another had his baggage lost en-route. Unfortunately, they missed the first few days in Tucuman, but we gathered them up in Jujuy and continued on our way. We followed the same route as last June through Jujuy and Salta. We explored salt lakes, colorful deserts, lush wetlands, and grand snow-capped mountains. Everyone had a great time and returned with indelible personal and photographic memories!

May 9, 2012

I’m writing this to avoid being seasick. It should have the opposite affect when sitting on a sailboat that’s rocking and rolling, but it seems to be working. Normally, I can’t even read in the car. The hard part is keeping the computer on my lap!

Yesterday, we left the port at Prince Rupert, an island along the coast of British Columbia. We’re headed about 40 km northeast to a place called the Khutzeymateen, Canada’s only grizzly bear sanctuary. The sanctuary includes 109,500 acres of rugged peaks, old growth temperate rainforest, and a large estuary. I love the natural setting of British Columbia: dark waters rimmed by huge moss covered trees, set against looming snow-capped granite peaks. I feel age and mystery when in these waters.

There are 9 of us on board, 7 men and 2 women. At this particular moment, it’s cold, we’re crashing through waves, and it’s sleeting outside. The men are crowded above deck under the canopy. I think they’re focused on the horizon and hoping they don’t get sea sick, but no one will admit it! My “room” for the next 9 days is more like a shelf than a room and is located in the bow of the boat. For those of you not familiar with boating, you feel every bump and roll in the bow. So, here we go again. German and I are on another adventure, enduring many forms of discomfort with the hope of returning with unique photos and videos. Maybe we’re crazy, but we’re also excited by the possibilities.

May 11, 2012

The weather hasn’t improved much and we’re still on our way to the Khutzeymateen. Along the way, we’ve spent time looking for bears in the Kwinamass Valley and have been lucky. We found a male Grizzly that was digging for clams at low tide. He’d find one small clam and delicately open it to reveal the smallest morsel of food. After eating several of these, he returned to the shoreline to continue eating grass. The most exciting find of the day was a mother bear with two cubs. They were feeding on mussels attached to exposed rocks, scraping the mussels off with their teeth. You could hear loud crunching as they chewed – I don’t know how they keep from hurting their mouths. In one moment, one of the cubs broke away from the mother and came toward us. After what looked like an attempt to look casual (I’m not headed your way), he finally crawled on a rock near our boat. He faced us, raised one paw and grumbled. He looked like he was waving hello.

May 13, 2012

We’re finally at the Khutzeymateen, but our permit doesn’t allow us to enter until tomorrow. We’ve spent a lot of time cruising around in the zodiac just outside the sanctuary. This afternoon our captain spotted a sea wolf walking along the shoreline. Everyone scrambled for their gear and photographed the wolf from the deck of the boat. It wasn’t long before we wanted a closer look, so we loaded up the zodiac and headed out. The wolf stayed right along the water’s edge but was moving fast and we lost it. We spotted a male Grizzly and headed toward him. That’s when I heard German say, “Wolf!” Unbelievable, the wolf was headed directly toward the bear. The bear continued eating unconcerned as the wolf slipped directly behind him and into the woods.

Video: The Khutzeymateen Grizzly Bear Sanctuary, May 2012

May 14, 2012

It was 6:45 this morning when I heard lots of activity on deck. I went up to see what was happening and there it was, the wolf, directly beside the sailboat. I ran for my gear. She was beautiful, with light colored fur that stood out from the dark shadows underneath overhanging trees. She stopped and looked directly at us with those yellow eyes. Much to my disappointment she disappeared again. After breakfast, we finally headed out into the Khutzeymateen. It wasn’t long until we spotted the first Grizzlies, a male and female. The girl was at the edge of the woods and the boy heading toward her. When he reached her, he gently bit her neck and pulled her out into the meadow. With open mouths they waved their teeth at one another (something called “jawing”), stood up on their hind legs, pushed, pulled, bit, scratched, and punched – mostly with a gentle touch. They were playing. At one point, the female began walking away. The male simply lay down on his back, ears up and paws on his chest, and she came running back again. The rest of the day was slow and we didn’t see more bears. But, at the very end of the day just as the light was fading, a black wolf with yellow eyes came walking out of the woods. He was impressive and beautiful to see. He disappeared as quickly as he came.

Video: The Khutzeymateen Grizzly Bear Sanctuary, May 2012

May 15, 2012

Our boy and girl Grizzlies didn’t disappoint us this morning. The same two that were playing yesterday, started up again just as we arrived in the estuary. We were in a better position for photography and the light was better as well. They were playing a little rougher than yesterday. The female gave the boy a couple of hard scratches. Later when looking at the images on the computer, we could see cuts in his fur. It rained the rest of the day and we didn’t find more bears. We were wet and cold and the day was long.

May 16, 2012

The bears really came out of hibernation today. They were everywhere. A large alpha male named Brutus was chasing the younger males away, a female was taking a nap on an ice flow, and other bears were eating grass or swimming back and forth between islands.  There were at least 14 all around us. We photographed like crazy. It also rained like crazy. The bears were not bothered by the rain or by us as we cruised along in the zodiac. Often times, they swam quite near the boat. Even Brutus, with his consistently grumpy-looking face, was tolerant of our presence. Actually, he surprised me. We were in a narrow channel watching another bear. The walls of the channel were high because it was still low tide. The bow of the zodiac was pushed up against one of the walls as we sat perpendicular in the channel. I was in the bow looking straight ahead when I heard deep, hollow breathing above me. Brutus came to the edge and looked down at me. I didn’t know what to do. I looked up and talked to him quietly as we were told. After that, he collapsed to his belly like a dog. He just lay down with his head facing me. He was huge and mangy. Patches of fur were missing along his sides. Our captain said he’d known Brutus since he was a cub and it seemed plausible that Brutus came to lie down near his old friend after a long morning of chasing away younger males.

May 19, 2012

Today’s our last day and I’m sad to go (but I haven’t had a real shower in 9 days so I think it’s time to make my way back to civilization). We’ve loved our time with the bears and have learned a lot about their world and their ways. They allowed us into that world without aggression. There’s no doubt they sit above us on the food chain, but during our time with them we witnessed an immensely gentle nature. Most of the time, bears were more afraid of us than we were of them. We were taught to move slowly and talk softly to the bears. They were tolerant or indifferent, and occasionally curious. Some bears had distinctive personalities while others were very similar.  I wasn’t surprised by the experience but I realize that I’ve lost some of my fear of them. There’s no doubt I have a healthy respect. They’re huge and powerful, I know enough not to be careless. But, at the same time, I’m a little more comfortable in their presence and I look forward to seeing them again someday.

For excellent information about the defense of wildlife and habitat on Canada’s Pacific coast go to http://pacificwild.org

German and I recently spent five days at El Condor in southern Patagonia, an estancia in a remote location near the Chilean border. We were the guests of Raphael Smart, Jaime Smart, and Alejandro Serret of the Cielos Patagonicos investment group. This beautiful estancia sits beside the glacial blue waters of Lake San Martin, five hours north of Calafate. We drove all night from Trelew and arrived near the entrance of the estancia at sunrise. As the light crawled slowly across the landscape, we saw bright yellow grasses covering dry Patagonian steppe. An Andean Red Fox ran past our vehicle as Guanacos grazed casually beside us.  Snow-covered mountains loomed in the distance while fall colored Lenga forests settled in a blanket of red below the snow line. Austral Parakeets squawked in the trees as Andean Condors soared high above. It was a feast of motion, color, and texture.

We’d like to say thank you to our hosts! It was a beautiful time for photography. We had our share of cold rain but it was valio la pena! Thank you again. I’d also like to thank our incredible guides Santiago Bush Frers and Jorge Cazenave. You guys are the best!

Laysan Albatross flying against blue water and Laysan Albatross nestling at sunset

Laysan Albatross taking-off, Frigatebird male displays red pouch for female, and Green Sea Turtles

The plane touches down at 10pm. It’s dark outside the windows of the Gulfstream jet that just brought us here. We exit the plane into a darkness occasionally interrupted by headlights of vehicles, a fire truck, and flashlights in the hands of those awaiting us. It reminds me of a scene from Close Encounters of the Third Kind. We’re escorted to golf carts as others unload our baggage behind us. German and I have just landed on Midway Atoll in the northwestern Hawaiian Islands. The darkness is disorienting but it isn’t long before we see legions of small birds soaring in the skies above us. Sounds surround us in the darkness: whistles, clacks, something that resembles applause, and even Woody Woodpecker. Meanwhile, birds swarm closer to the vehicle, attracted by the headlights. It’s cold and windy, with a hint of moisture in the air. For an atoll that’s primarily a seabird nesting colony (with an estimated 3-5 million birds), it doesn’t smell that bad!

Black-footed Albatross in coursthip ritual and Laysan Albatross in flight

Laysan Albatross nestling

The next morning we awoke to quite a sight, albatross were everywhere: outside the front door, in gardens, on runways, surrounding buildings, in fields and on beaches. They were the source of all the amazing sounds we heard the night before. Pairs were performing courtship dances while standing near brown, fuzzy chicks in shallow nests. Thousands of albatross filled the air like bees buzzing around a hive.

Curious Laysan Albatross and Laysan Albatross adult feeding squid to nestling

The waters around Midway are truly amazing, the turquoise and blue colors are deeply saturated while beaches are almost white. As you might expect, birds are the dominant life form. Albatross, terns, boobies, frigatebirds, and petrels spend most of their life at sea but return each season for nesting. Most of these birds evolved without land-based predators and have no fear of humans. As a result, visitors can get up close and personal. Laysan and Black-footed Albatross are the most numerous. There are several endangered species living on Midway as well. We were very fortunate to see Monk Seal, Laysan Duck, Green Sea Turtle, and Short-tailed Albatross.

Short-tailed Albatross and White Tern

Hawaiian Green Sea Turtles on the beach

Midway is probably most famous for its role in U.S. history. The atoll served as a military base during WWII and the Cold War. Runways and military buildings cover the atoll, but nature is slowly taking back the land. Old buildings are beginning to decay while plants are pushing their way up through the pavement. The atoll is now preserved as a National Wildlife Refuge. Why do these ruined buildings remain? It’s because the cost of removing them is simply too high. Government money is used for the most important things, like habitat and wildlife management.

Red-tailed Tropicbird and Black-footed Albatross silhouette

Black-footed Albatross preening and White Tern preening

Refuge personnel fight invasive species and work to provide the right kind of habitat for animals. They also work to keep beaches clean from garbage that floats in with the tide. Most of this garbage is from products made of plastic. While walking through the Albatross rookeries, you will occasionally come upon a small mound of plastic: colorful bottle caps, cigarette lighters, toys, and fishing gear. If you look closely, you’ll also see bones and fragments of feathers. Adult albatross are eating plastic and it’s killing them. Chicks are also fed plastic items. It fills up their bellies and they mistakenly feel full. In the end, they slowly die of starvation because they no longer beg for food from a parent. I left Midway with a much stronger resolve to minimize my use of plastic and recycle everything possible. One afternoon, German and I found a chick with fishing line wrapped around its foot. Our guide asked us to remove it. The little albatross snapped at hands and eventually threw squid up on German. The smell lingered on his hands for days. But, that’s the cost of saving one small life!

Plastic found in the carcass of a Laysan Albatross and Plastic refuse collected from the beaches

We spent 6 days on Midway and left knowing what a really special place it is, not only for its amazing wildlife but also because of the dedicated people who live there. They were all truly kind and generous, each with a passion for their work on the refuge. Volunteers were equally enthusiastic. Thank you to all of them for providing us with such a great experience!

The Laysan Duck is one of the most endangered birds in the world

Laysan Albatross pair and Laysan Albatross running for take-off

Striated Caracara, Imperial Cormorant, and Juvenile Elephant Seal

Rockhopper Penguin and Black-browed Albatross

As I write this, it’s summer in December and I’m in the Falkland Islands. German and I are sitting along a stretch of beach on Sea Lion Island. The sand is white and the water Caribbean blue. You might assume that white beaches and clear blue water could equal swimsuits and pina coladas, but not here! It’s very cold and extremely windy. We’re in the land of penguins, albatross, and elephant seals…

Imperial Cormorant, Black-browed Albatross, and King Penguins

Saunders Island landscape and Rockhopper Penguins hopping

Despite the weather, something amazing is happening in front of us. A large male Southern Sea Lion is swimming up and down the shoreline, hunting Gentoo Penguins. Hundreds of Gentoos are swimming just beyond the shallows, waiting to come inland. They know the sea lion is here and that he’s waiting to snatch them. Last night, we watched him catch seven penguins. This is an amazingly sad experience, but exciting at the same time. You find yourself praying that the penguins escape but then fanatically photographing the moment when they’re caught. It’s an extremely violent moment and I find myself feeling those hopelessly conflicted feelings again.

Southern Sea Lion male with Gentoo Penguin prey

To me, the Falkland Islands are a magical place, despite its brutal beauty. This is my second visit. I love it because it’s one of the few locations where you can wander among wildlife unhindered: trusted that you will respect the animals and enjoy the gift of solitude in wilderness.

Black-browed Albatross on its nest and King Penguins on the beach

Dolphin Gull with nesting material, Rockhopper Penguins, and Gentoo Penguin nestling

The animals in the Falklands are unafraid on land. They evolved without many land predators and are trusting to a fault.  Penguins are especially curious. If you sit near a colony and remain somewhat still, they will come to greet you – each sideways glance a prelude to closer inspection. This is true of many of the animals, birds and mammals alike. The islands themselves are mostly treeless. Native shrubs like the compact Diddle-Dee and the fountain-like Tussock Grass dominate the landscape. The terrain is rolling. There are unique geographical features called ‘rock runs’ that flow down from the top of higher hills. Tall, sharp cliffs also rise from the sea.

Male Falkland Flightless Steamerduck and White-tufted Grebe with chick on its back

Gentoo Penguin adult feeding nestlings, King Penguin, and Black-browed Albatross with nestling

One of my favorite locations is on Saunders Island at a place called the Rookery. There’s a large Rockhopper Penguin colony that stretches high upon the hill. Near the colony is a fresh water spring. All day long, the Rockhoppers walk, run, or hop to the spring, hunched over like little old men with big pink feet. The nails at the end of each toe allow them to climb up steep rocks in order to come to an area where fresh water drips like a waterfall. It’s known as the ‘penguin shower’ and is a must see location if you ever visit. Penguins stand in line as they wait for their turn in the shower. If a penguin takes too long cleaning up, waiting penguins gang up upon them and they are chased away so that others may take their turn. We witness very human behavior in a similarly human situation.

Rockhopper Penguins in the shower

The idea of traveling through the Falklands with German, a 42-year-old ex-marine corps Argentinean was intriguing to me. I didn’t know what to expect.  German had never been to the Falklands and he was only a child when the Falklands War began. Argentine history is branded with scars from this war. The same is true for people in the Falklands. I visited the Falklands in 2005 and was surprised at that time to hear so many stories about the war, personal stories from the locals I met along the way. For some, there was a great deal of resentment and unhealed emotional scars. For others, it was simply a sad situation. However, there’s no way to escape the history. Evidence of the war is hard to ignore in the Falklands. Thousands of acres are still filled with land mines. British as well as Argentine war memorials and cemeteries are on all major islands. The crashed remains of helicopters and other aircraft can still be seen. Impact craters gouge the landscape near battlefield trenches that still contain rotting ponchos. Locals are more than happy to relate their experiences, whether you ask them to or not. I think all that we saw and heard relating to the war touched German more strongly than he’d imagined. For me, it was an incredible learning experience. One of those moments that give perspective and appreciation for your own life situation.  Still, the point of this adventure and of this blog is not to focus on the Falklands War. It’s to celebrate the beauty of the islands and their endemic species.

Rockhopper Penguin with newly hatched nestling and Gentoo Penguin nestling under its parent

It was a great time of year to be in the Falklands. Most waterfowl were paired-off and escorting newly hatched, buoyant balls of fluff. Chicks were everywhere. Ruddy-headed Geese, Upland Geese, Kelp Geese, Falkland Flightless Steamerducks, Crested Ducks, and White-tufted Grebes were all herding around newly hatched babies. Gentoo and Rockhopper Penguin eggs began hatching during our second week, while Rufus–chested Dotterals, Black-browed Albatross, and Oystercatchers mostly were sitting on eggs. We also saw Dolphin Gulls and Arctic Terns gathering nesting material in preparation for their own nesting season.

Dolphin Gull with nesting material and Black-browed Albatross in flight

Carcass Island seascape and Falkland (Brown) Skua with stolen Rockhopper egg

I applaud the people of the Falkland Islands for managing to keep tourism small and controlled. This could easily become a location similar to the Galapagos Islands. Too many people require too many restrictions. The Falklands tourism board intentionally works to keep tourist numbers regulated so that visitors are able to have a unique and special experience. Most people I talked with want that balance. On each island, I was told that the goal is to provide a quiet, intimate experience without crowds or too many regulations. I hope they’re able to keep this balance.

Unfortunately, money and conservation are often at odds. Cruise ships have begun coming, bringing 300 people at a time to walk freely among penguin colonies. Eventually, it will be too much and most of the locals are afraid of this. History shows us that the temptation of money is strong. I hope that the people living in the Falkland Islands prove that to be wrong!

Elephant Seal adults and Elephant Seal juvenile

Gentoo Penguins riding the waves on to shore and sunset over a Gentoo Penguin colony

German with his video camera and Laura taking pictures

Does anyone respect a duck?

Even the most serious birders often ignore this waddling family of birds. To children ducks are funny birds to be chased, hunters look at them as targets, and to most other people ducks are the amusing birds you feed at the park when pigeons aren’t around. They waddle awkwardly and the most common ones quack. (There’s really no way to make a quack sound graceful.) Ducks make us laugh. Even their courtship displays make me giggle. They flip their heads, raise their butts, and kick water up with their feet. You can watch multiple males as they circle around a female doing all of the above. To a girl-duck this is sexy. To the rest of us, it‘s simply comical. But, when taken seriously, ducks are also beautiful. The patterns and colors of feathers can compete with the best work from graphic designers and modern artists. They’re also extremely skittish, which makes them difficult to photograph. They don’t like humans getting too close. This article describes what I’ve learned about photographing wild ducks and other waterfowl.

Preface

First, let me say that the easiest way to photograph ducks is to go to a public park where they are used to human presence. This is a great way to get good shots of a variety of species and a great place to practice. Boat docks are also a good place to go, again because the birds are used to humans being nearby. But, I prefer photographing wild ducks in wild locations and that’s what this article is about.

In search of…

For me, truly wild ducks need to be photographed from a blind. But, first you have to find them. You have to do some fieldwork and find a location where the ducks come to feed in the morning and evening. Small ponds and farm fields are excellent places to start. Ask farmers or refuge managers where you can find flocks of waterfowl. Once you have your location, it’s time to observe the birds from a distance. This takes a little patience and a pair of binoculars. Visit the location at least one morning and afternoon. What birds are there? Where are they consistently hanging out – on the shore, near a specific food source, on a fallen branch or island? Is it the same location each morning and evening? Where is the sun? Will it be better to shoot at sunrise or sunset? Start looking for a place to put your blind (make sure you have permission to do so). Find one that faces a clean or interesting background with the sun behind you.

Setting up the blind

When setting up the blind, do it when the birds aren’t around. I use small, one-person bivy tents that I’ve adapted for photography. They keep me low to the ground so I can shoot looking eye to eye, not looking down. These tents also resist wind and are easy to set-up and transport. Ducks may be afraid of a blind at first, but should get comfortable with it quickly. If they do not, remove the blind immediately. When I shoot in ponds, I like to add a nice looking log in the water, off to one side. Birds often climb up on it after feeding and begin to preen. This provides you an opportunity to photograph a different behavior. Before leaving, I c lean my setting a little bit, removing sticks and debris in front of the blind.

Do your homework

While scouting your blind location, you should make a list of the birds you see. Bring your field guide and try to identify each species while out in the field. Chances are that with ducks will also be geese, shorebirds, or other waterfowl. Once you get home, do a little homework. Learn about various behaviors you might see like ceremonial drinking, breeding displays, bonding gestures, or threat displays. Books like Stokes Guide to Bird Behavior or Sibley’s Guide to Bird Life and Behavior will give you clear and succinct descriptions that prepare you. Take as much knowledge as you can with you into the blind. You will take better and more interesting pictures.

Don’t stress the animals

Go into the blind before the birds arrive. I prefer to shoot ducks in the mornings so I go into the blind well before sunrise. W hen you’re finished shooting, only leave the blind once the ducks are gone! Don’t stress or scare them. It won’t help them or your photography!

Start slowly

When inside the blind for the first time, start slowly. In the beginning, ducks may be afraid of your movements or the sound of your camera. Move very slowly and start by taking only a few images every so often. Stop once the birds look nervous and let them relax and return to feeding before beginning again. Eventually, they will accept your movements and the sounds of the camera. I find movement to be the most intimidating for them. Sound doesn’t seem to bother them as much.

The elements can trick you

Let’s say you’ve done everything perfectly, you enter the blind only to find that for some reason the birds didn’t come back. There are two elements that can change your plans. Very windy days can be a problem. I find the birds are more skittish with high winds. Perhaps they can’t hear impending danger as well or maybe raptors have an advantage with the wind speed. I’m not sure. But, the most difficult (and often surprising) obstacle is the moon. When the moon is very bright on a mostly clear sky, ducks will change their pattern and feed at night. So, be aware of the weather and phases of the moon as you plan your days in the blind.

Don’t forget to catch the action

My best advice is to go for action, interaction, and behavior shots! If you did your homework you should know what species you’re looking at and what some of their more common behaviors will be. Often times, a sound or movement precedes an interesting behavior. Listen, watch, and have fun!

Summary:

·      Don’t stress the animals, always respect them.

·      Ask locals in rural areas where birds go to feed mornings and evenings.

·      Observe from a distance before deciding how to begin.

·      Look for a ‘feature’ where ducks repeatedly visit (log, localized food source).

·      Ask permission to set-up a blind.

·      Place blind when the birds aren’t around.

·      Place blind with sun to your back and facing the most pleasing background.

·      Clean your ‘setting’ a little (don’t go crazy).

·      Add a perch or log nearby to maximize shooting opportunities.

·      Identify the birds you’ll be shooting; learn behaviors beforehand.

·      Never enter or exit the blind while birds are around.

·      Remove a blind that causes birds to change behavior.

·      Watch for weather related elements that can change feeding habits.

·      In the blind, start slowly, let birds get comfortable with your movements.

·      Shoot action and interaction, not only portraits.

Where we are

I’m sitting on a 71 foot sailing vessel called the Ocean Light II. It’s raining, as it has been for days. The temperature averages about 50F, but it seems colder because of the humidity and wind. I keep a cup of hot tea nearby mainly to warm my hands. We’re sailing along British Columbia’s mid-coast. On shore, in the Great Bear Rainforest, Spruce, Cedar, Pine, and Crabapple populate one of the largest remaining remnants of coastal temperate rainforest. The bright greens, yellows, and reds are especially vibrant in the rain. The deep water we’re sailing through is cold, dark green, and extremely clear.

What we’re doing

The target of this adventure is to photograph the rare Kermode Bear, otherwise known as the Spirit Bear. Spirit Bears are a white color phase of the Black Bear. They have dark eyes and cream-colored fur because of a recessive gene that prevents their coats from turning black. Biologists estimate there are around 400 living on different islands in the Great Bear Rainforest. They are a special part of a complex ecosystem that includes Salmon, Herring, Humpback Whales, Orca, Wolves, Deer, Bald Eagles, Harbor Seals, and Grizzly Bears. Fortunately, the Canadian government has chosen to protect the Spirit Bear, even though hunting of Grizzly and Black Bear is rampant. Still, there’s no guarantee that we’ll be able to find them, so we’re hoping for the best.

Getting there

I traveled by floatplane from Prince Rupert to Hartley Bay. This is where I met the Ocean Light II. From there we traveled southeast toward Gribbell Island, where we hoped to see the Spirit Bear. Along the way, we saw migrating Pink Salmon and agile Harbor Seals swimming in the clear water around us. We also found several Humpback Whales as well as a pod of Orcas. Most of these marine mammals were elusive, but a few allowed us to see them up close. One Orca passed directly under our boat with a Halibut in her mouth. Her baby was close beside her.

The first encounter

We arrived at our destination by early evening the first day. It was raining, but we went to shore and hiked about one mile into the forest. I was excited. This would be my first experience with bears of any color and I didn’t have long to wait. The first bear we found was fishing at the edge of Riordan Creek. She was a Black Bear and a very patient hunter. Pink Salmon were running up the creek to spawn and could be seen swimming and splashing around her. Each time she caught a fish she would retreat into the forest to eat it. She did this many times as we sat quietly watching her. Once the sun had set, we headed back to the boat …and there he was. A male Spirit Bear came wandering up the creek directly in front of us. We saw him only briefly in the fading light, but now we were excited. We’d just confirmed that at least one Spirit Bear was in the area.

Our time with the bears

The following morning, we left early. I was settling in along the edge of the creek when the bushes in front of me began to rustle. Something was walking almost silently through the forest. It felt like the scene in Jurassic Park when all you could see was the grass waving as the dinosaurs moved closer. I was nervous, but I trusted our guide and didn’t move. That’s when a Black Bear came out of the forest with two cubs behind her. I’ve been told that a mother with cubs is the most dangerous kind of bear: black, white, or brown. My nervousness increased. I expected her to be aggressive, but what actually happened was quite the opposite. She was unconcerned with our presence. In fact, she barely acknowledged our being there. She walked directly to a shallow pool and began fishing for salmon as her cubs played nearby. She stayed with us for about an hour and then disappeared into the forest. I began to move around, drying my camera and checking my images. That’s when I heard our guide make a strange sound. I looked up and saw a male Spirit Bear directly ahead. I had been so focused on the mother bear that I didn’t see his approach.

Over the next two days, we photographed two different Spirit Bears and several Black Bears. At one point, we had seven bears fishing all around us in the rain. Some bears had special hunting techniques. One female preferred to stand under the shade of a fallen tree and wait for the salmon to seek refuge underneath. Another rested in the middle of the creek with his weight on his elbows. He held his mouth open just over the rapids and waited. Others seemed to splash around aimlessly. For me, it was an amazing experience, simply spending time with the bears as they fished and interacted with one another. I was truly grateful to them for willingly accepting us into their world, if only for a little while.

Conservation of the Great Bear Rainforest

In August this year, National Geographic featured a story about Spirit Bears and the amazing wilderness in which they live. They describe the various threats to this fragile ecosystem, such as the Northern Gateway Tar Sands Pipeline project. The proposed pipeline would stretch 700 miles across western Canada to a port in the heart of the Great Bear Rainforest. From there, the refined oil would then be shipped to China, Japan, and perhaps California. Logging is another concern. The Spirit Bear is threatened because much of its home range has already been logged. The loss of big trees means the loss of dens for protection during winter hibernation. Logging also exacerbates erosion problems as well as fragmentation of habitat and health of river systems that support a crucial food source, salmon. Take a look at Nat Geo’s article if you haven’t already or visit www.pacificwild.org for more information about conservation of species on Canada’s Pacific coast. It is a truly wild and pristine location worthy of protection.

I don’t know how to tell this story. I’ve tried to write it many times. The reason for my difficulty is emotional: a mixture of anxiety, desire, frustration, and failure. This is a sad story.

The story begins on a small estancia in Northeastern Argentina, where German and I met two captive jaguars: Sinbad and Simone. It was a chance meeting, not planned or expected. Before living in captivity, Sinbad and Simone were considered problem jaguars accused of killing livestock on nearby estancias. Problem jaguars are killed in Argentina, despite the fact that it’s illegal. Keeping jaguars in captivity without the proper qualifications is also illegal, so the man who trapped and kept them was also breaking the law.  He did it to save their lives, but what’s the lesser of two evils: to kill the jaguars or cage them? In the beginning, the answer was very clear to me, but now I’m not so sure.

Serendipity guides this story. Each time I returned to Argentina, we were consistently re-connected to Sinbad and Simone through random conversations and coincidental meetings with a variety of people in a variety of places. Overtime, I began to feel a sense of responsibility. I don’t believe in fate, but I can’t deny the unusual nature of the circumstances.

The first visit

Jaguars are impressively powerful and I had a surprisingly strong emotional reaction to their size, strength, and demeanor. This is brutal beauty at it’s finest. Sinbad looked rather healthy but Simone was throwing up in her cage. I do not condone photography of captive animals, especially animals kept in conditions and circumstances such as Sinbad and Simone. (I will photograph rehabilitated animals that are no longer able to return to the wild.) But, repeated offers to donate time, materials, and money to improve the cats living conditions were wholeheartedly refused. The only answer I could find was to document the situation and then find a way to use the images to help them.

I spent the most time with Sinbad. He was very calm and accepting, even when I was very close. I watched his behavior carefully, slowly working my way closer and closer and staying low to the ground. By the end, I was using a macro lens as Sinbad lounged patiently against the bars. My surprise came when the keeper that had caged and cared for Sinbad for over a decade came near the enclosure. Sinbad’s demeanor changed completely. He growled, hissed, and roared while pacing. The difference in behavior was startling; I realized I’d been naïve to be so close. Sinbad’s giant paws had no trouble squeezing through cage bars in order to scratch his taunting keeper.

At one point, while German was on the phone, the keeper came to me and waved for me to follow him. He didn’t speak English so we were playing charades. He pointed to my camera and then placed me directly in front of Simone’s cage door. I was confused and then shocked as he slowly began to open the door. Simone stared and growled at him directly. She wasn’t interested in me… yet. He waved at me and pointed at my camera. I took 6 frames in a very confused and panicked state. On the last frame, through the viewfinder, I saw Simone turn her head toward me and stare directly. The keeper quickly slammed the door shut.

There’s a blurry line between what we feel we must do and what we believe is the right thing to do in a situation like this. Perhaps my choices could have been better. We did not walk away and declare true feelings of outrage or tragic sadness for the conditions and treatment of these animals. In my mind, the best interest of the animals superseded stating our dislike of the situation. We were being as friendly as necessary to convince the keeper to accept our help.

The second visit

Not satisfied that we had done all we could, we returned 2 weeks after our first visit. Again we were refused. The keeper was convinced that if he made things better for the cats, the government would “take his farm” and “exploit the jaguars”. We were frustrated and defeated, but we gave him money and he promised to get better food and health care for the cats.  Around the same time, German and I were beginning our photo tour business. Conservation education is an important part of our mission statement and we agreed that Sinbad was a perfect choice for our logo. Sinbad was to be our ambassador and he remains so today.

4 months later

While having dinner with a friend in Corrientes, one guest began telling the story of a hermit who lived with jaguars in the jungle of the Northeast. Guess who? The tale had taken a tragic spin after Sinbad killed the keepers’ brother when opening the cage to feed him. Afterward, Sinbad didn’t run away. He stayed in his cage with the door wide open. He had lived in captivity for so many years freedom was no longer a consideration. We asked what had happened to the cats but no one seemed to know. We finally found a newspaper article on the Internet, but it said only that the government confiscated the cats. It didn’t say where they had been taken.

1 week later

While walking through a small airport in the Northeast, a security guard stopped German for having a utility knife on his belt. The guard asked German to put it in the car and escorted him to the parking lot to do so. Upon seeing our company logo (with Sinbad in the middle), the guard mentioned his work with a local wildlife facility that had just received two new jaguars: Sinbad and Simone! Within a few days, we met the guard at a government owned rehabilitation facility and visited our old friends. It was one of the most depressing days in my life. The cats were caged in a small building that stood in the bright, hot sunlight. The cement walls were 5 feet tall and without windows. Only bars at the top allowed a view down into the cats’ separate compartments. I thought they had lived in the worst conditions before, but I was wrong. Both cats looked sick. Sinbad had lost weight and seemed diminished. Simone looked worse. Her tail was swollen with infection and her eyes cloudy. She was lying on her side and would only raise her head to look up. She had always been aggressive, constantly growling and pacing in the past. Now, she didn’t move beyond tossing her head for an occasional halfhearted growl. I saw scraps of meat but no water around them. The cages were very small, dirty, hot, and barren. I got up on German’s shoulders and began taking pictures down into the cages. Both cats were extremely lethargic and unresponsive. A worker confirmed that the cats had been drugged, but wouldn’t say why.

Two days later

A client was coming to travel with us for 3 weeks and we’d arranged for him to photograph raptors at a privately owned wildlife rehabilitation center. This center is extremely well equipped and has the very best veterinary care. On our tour of the center, the manager showed us enclosures set-up specifically for jaguars. But, the cages were empty. We were excited and talked about Sinbad and Simone. She knew of them and had been trying to get them moved to her facility, but political muscle was keeping this from happening. The man in charge of the government wildlife facility was standing in the way.

The end of the story?

There is so much more to this story, but the summary is that despite the obvious benefits of the privately owned facility, all attempts to move the cats have failed. I ask that anyone who feels they can be more successful at changing the mind of self-serving politicians, please contact me and teach me what can be done. We’ve tried, our friends have tried, but we’ve been told that by fighting we are putting ourselves at risk. So, I’m walking a fine line into unknown territory. Is there a way to make the remaining years of these unfortunate animals a little better? In the beginning, I thought ‘alive and caged’ was better than dead. After this experience, I can no longer say that with conviction.

Tucuman, Jujuy, and Salta Provinces

When German approached me about doing a scouting trip to northern Argentina, I was skeptical. My mind played images of barren desert landscapes with little wildlife to be seen. Yes, I’d seen colorful photos of mountains and giant cacti that were very nice, but not really “my thing”. I resisted his idea for over a year. At about the same time, I met an old friend at a photography conference. He teaches photo workshops in the States and had just begun to explore some international destinations. His name is Corey Hilz and he specializes in nature as well as travel photography. We had talked in the past about co-leading a photography tour somewhere in Argentina. I mentioned the possibility of visiting several different areas, including the north. After a little more discussion, some research, and gentle prodding from German we agreed that in June 2011 we would explore Tucuman, Jujuy, and Salta in Northern Argentina. We just returned from that scouting trip and I’m happy to say that I was wrong, completely. The area was full of life, color, and variety. It is a truly amazing place.

The landscape

Our goal was to explore the Calchaquies Valley and the Quebrada de Humahuaca, narrow valleys once used by Inca as trade and transportation routes. While it’s true that this is a semi-desert region, that’s far from all we saw. I was completely surprised by the variety of landscape in such a small area: mountains, desert, salt flats, high plains, volcanoes, and lush valleys. We went from 1000 (3281 feet) to 4895 (16,059 feet) meters above sea level. We saw the altiplano (high plains) to the North and vast salt flats of the Puna to the West. (The Puna is a high altitude plateau at an average of 4000 meters or 13,123 feet above sea level.) The landscape was constantly changing around us and the colors of each were amazing. It’s true that we focused on landscapes more than I normally do. And, it’s also true that I’ve never taken so many pictures of colorful patterns on the mountainside. But, the colors were stunning, the culture unique, and the landscapes far from similar. It was a trip that literally celebrated color, truly vivid color from the grasses, mountains, and slat flats to the adobe homes, artisan markets, and clothing worn by the locals.

The people

Each little town had its own charm and the people were truly unique; everyone was kind and friendly and the food was delicious. We had original dishes like Humita and the best tamales I’ve ever eaten. The people in these areas have adapted to some of the most extreme climatic conditions. Their heritage comes from pre-Hispanic times and they hold firmly to traditions and rituals passed down through generations. Interestingly enough, we also found ourselves fascinated by the variety and beauty of primitive graveyards in the most rural as well as more urban locations. Yes, these are poverty stricken places, but it’s different from the poverty you witness in more urbanized locations. The people survive from the land. Homes are built from clay/mud bricks and the skeletons of the Cardones cactus. Many depend on goats for their livelihood.

One afternoon, while passing near the town of Payogasta, we found the road blocked by an old woman herding goats along the dirt road. The goats were all hobbled, their feet tied closely together so they couldn’t run. The woman walked slowly and with a walking stick. We stopped to talk with her and asked permission to take her picture. She was sharp, wanting to know each of our names, sometimes repeating them over and over after being introduced. She asked lots of questions about our travels. Her name was Torres and she was 89 years old. We shared cookies and good conversation before saying goodbye and asking if we could visit her again in the future. She said she would be happy to see us, but we couldn’t bring the same car and pointed to our Frontera logo on the side. This was a little strange and there was a pregnant pause filled with confusion until she explained. Our Frontera logo contains a picture of Jaguar. Torres felt the logo was bad luck; it could attract large cats like the Puma that roamed in her area. That’s a problem for her because Puma eat goats. So, on our next visit…no logo and no cats!

The wildlife

While landscape and cultural photo opportunities took precedence, there was a surprising amount of wildlife. The most common animal we saw was the Vicuña, most similar in look to the Guanaco and related to the Llama. They were very curious, craning their necks from side to side as they stopped to check us out. We also found Llamas. While some were domesticated and often decorated with colorful pompons for celebrations, others were wild and roaming the high plains. Llamas are great because they always seem to be smiling at you. Like Dolphins, their faces just look happy which is only exaggerated when their ears are decorated with pompons. Toward the end of the trip the bird photographer (me) was finally given a treat. We found Flamingos in the salt flats, their pink colors blending perfectly with the colorful mountains surrounding them. But, my favorite subjects were three Red-legged Seriemas in Salta. (Seriemas are long-legged birds related to rails and bustards.) They visited the freshly mown grass around my hotel looking for bugs and other tidbits. They even found a poor, sick Clay-colored Robin and promptly made a meal of it. Unfortunately, we never saw any Puma. Sorry Torres, the logo didn’t work!

The conclusion

I don’t know why I havn’t noticed before, but guess what? Mountains don’t run away. You find them and then wait for the great light, no worries. They will still be there later. No tracking, chasing, crawling, sneaking, or sitting in cramped blinds for hours. For me, this was a vacation and the photo opportunities just never stopped! There were times where Corey and I were completely confused about which way to turn our cameras.

If you’d like to see snow-capped mountains that resemble Georgia O’Keefe paintings, places that look like Santa Fe or the Badlands on steroids, truly original cultures that still hold to ancient traditions, quaint colorful villages, friendly people, extinct volcanoes, vast salt flats, and bright yellow grasslands…all while eating amazing food (without crowds of other tourists), then go to Northern Argentina!

Corey, German, and I will be taking a group of between 8-10 people in June 2012. Send me an email if you’re interested!