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Perched on the ledge of a small outcropping of rock, an explosion of white soft coral intermingled with the waving arms of crinoids, against a dark blue backdrop and the faint light from the surface creeping around the edge of the reef wall.
I have used the picture above on several occasions in this blog when talking about coral reef issues and it is a favorite of mine not just for the satisfactory end result but also for the memory of how it came about. It represents what I call the art of the moment which can often be the mainstay of nature photography and videography.
Many long years ago, when the earth was cooling and dinosaurs roamed the planet, I was shooting underwater still photography using a Nikonos V 35mm film camera, which meant no auto-focus, auto-iris - basically no auto-anything. So you had to prepare your shots in advance as much as possible. I was diving on Fiji's Great White Wall, one of the island chain's signature dive sites. The Great White Wall is a wide expanse along a large reef wall in the Somosomo Strait that is covered in white soft coral - small bunches packed in so tight it forms a virtual carpet of white like a fresh layer of snow. At a distance, the soft coral would take on a lavender hue, so shooting wide angle shots meant having to sacrifice capturing the white color. But taking close-ups was a challenge due to a rippin' strong current.
You approached the Great White Wall by descending down about 30 to 40 feet to a large reef head and then drop down another 40 feet or so through a crevice that formed a near perfect tunnel. Once you exited the tunnel, you abruptly turned left - whether you wanted to or not - as there was a powerful current that would sweep you along. You then found yourself flying over the Great White Wall. There was nothing to hold on to without damaging the coral, so your time spent seeing the white coral would only last about a minute before you turned to move out of the current and back to shallower depths.
About half way through the ride over the wall, I saw an outcropping that I thought would make for an interesting shot. But it was fast approaching. I set my focus, set my exposure based on the power of my single strobe at a pre-set distance - all designed to capture this little diversion in the wide expanse of white. However, I looked up and the outcropping was nearly upon me, closer than the camera was set for a proper shot. Frustrated, I thought the moment had come and gone; an opportunity lost.
In an instant, the coral outcropping was right beneath me, whizzing past in a blur. It suddenly occurred to me that there might still be a chance. As I passed, I quickly turned around and with the current continuing to propel me along, I waited for the right moment and took the shot facing backwards and then watched the outcropping quickly sail off into the lavender backdrop of the Great White Wall.
This was in the days of 35mm slide film, so I had to wait until I got home from the trip to see if I was successful in capturing the beauty and singularity of this one geological departure from the Great White Wall's broad, flat expanse. I lucked out. For me, while unbeknownst to all viewers of the image, it is a perfect example of what many wildlife photographers and videographers experience; that combination of preparedness and serendipity that sometimes allows us to capture beautiful images which, a split second later, would be unattainable. That is the art of the moment.
When working on a stage or in a controlled location, the photographer or videographer often works with art by design. You spend time setting your lights, you set marks to ensure your focus will capture the action just right, and you rehearse your camera moves while the actors rehearse their parts. You have the time and the ability to maximize all the resources at your disposal to design the scene the way you would like it to ultimately look. You have a measure of control; art by design. Sometimes the two can work in combination with preparation setting the stage to then catch unexpected magic moments.
For me, both experiences, art of the moment and art by design, can be exciting and very gratifying. Each have their own challenges and each can be fun for wholly different reasons. Either way, they hopefully contribute to the cinematic goal of telling a story in a compelling way without being obvious or intruding upon the viewers' own experience by visually shouting "look at me, look at what I did."
What is it that draws some of us to collect ocean-themed coffee table books? Is it the usually sumptuous photographs - pictures of places we have visited or hope to someday? Is it the written word - the in-depth facts or personal stories from leading ocean advocates? Perhaps it's a little of both actually. Personally, I can't seem to get enough. I admire the hard work of others in capturing the beauty of sealife in all its complexity. And there's always more to learn about the oceans; what we have and what's at stake, what's being done to protect the oceans and what challenges still lie ahead. But with my book shelves sagging and my coffee table in need of cinder block support, is there room for one more?
There certainly is. And Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet is it.
A Joint Effort
Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet is a joint effort bringing together the International League of Conservation Photographers (iLCP), Conservation International, the Wildlife Conservation Society, National Geographic, the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, Scripps Institution of 
Oceanography, the New England Aquarium and many other organizations and individual contributors. From this extensive aquatic brain trust of science and imagery, comes what can best be called a definitive ocean almanac. It is extensive in scope, full of well-known iconic underwater images as well as new pictures combined with a worldwide scientific-based look at the various seascapes that make up the planet's marine ecosystems and what needs to be done today to preserve them.
The book is actually the 19th volume in a series of conservation publications funded by the CEMEX corporation, a global building materials company. CEMEX began in Mexico in 1906 and has grown into one of the world's largest suppliers of cement and concrete products. While the company promotes conservation and sustainability - with their series of conservation books as outward evidence - some zealous conservationists who question the motives of large corporations might wonder why leading ocean conservation groups would choose to work with an industrial behemoth like CEMEX. I put the question to Cristina Mittermeier, founder of iLCP and who oversaw much of the photography in the book.
"Over the years I have come to realize two things. One is that the private sector and giant corporations, like CEMEX, are the most powerful forces on the planet. They can hold the key to the demise or the preservation of our planet," Mittermeier observed. "The second thing I have found out is that screaming at corporations from the other side of the aisle does not work. It is far more effective to engage the leadership of the corporate world to achieve lasting results."
The writing in Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet is definitely international in scope and while it is certainly accessible to any reader, much of it is geared towards the decision and policy makers of the world. If you have ever thought that international leaders needed some sort of primer or solid reference work that could provide them with an overall understanding of the oceans, the challenges, and the possible solutions required, this book would be a great start.
"The goal [of the CEMEX book series] is to find the turn-key audiences capable of making the necessary decisions that will protect this vast ecosystem. Over the years, CEMEX has donated thousands of copies of these high quality books to decision-makers, legislators, academia and educational institutions," said Mittermeier.
Stunning Imagery, Informative Writing
Paging through the book, one cannot help but notice the photographs. This is one gorgeous edition and could stand on just the pictures alone. The iLCP, which provided most of the photography, is a consortium that includes some of the most renown wildlife photographers in the world. And it certainly shows, whether capturing the beauty of the sea or its degradation at the hands of man.
However, beneath the striking images lies some important reading from several of the world's top ocean scientists and conservationists. The book sets the stage by discussing biomes - the major categories of marine ecosystems that make up the oceans - and the range of marine biodiversity, identifying key flagship species like marine mammals, elasmobranchs (sharks and rays), turtles, tuna and billfish, and several more. This establishes the main players and from there the book proceeds to focus on ten ocean areas identified as Seascapes, which are deemed representative of critical marine regions that should flourish but are threatened, that can serve both marine life and mankind but are facing severe challenges.
I asked Greg Stone, Ph.D., Chief Scientist for Oceans at Conservation International and a lead contributor to the book, if people will be able to relate to these Seascapes, some of which are a bit remote. "We picked a variety of sites from low to high latitudes and places that had good stories and experts who could write informatively. The entire global ocean is relevant to everyone on the planet, so I hope these sites make that clear," he said.
With observations and explanations based on scientific fact (and well annotated in the book's closing reference section for those curious readers who wish to dig deeper), the book lays out the foundation for global ocean management through the concept of the Seascapes Approach.
"Over the last decades, ocean scientists and marine conservationists have come to realize that ocean systems and human societies are interconnected; human societies simultaneously depend on and affect the ocean. The Seascapes Approach is a response to that realization. Seascapes Approach, formally launched in 2004, is a set of strategies ... that foster the effective management of large marine areas so that people can continue to benefit from the many services that healthy oceans provide while preserving the unique biodiversity of the world’s oceans." - excerpt from the book
This is the core strategy of the book and it is the component which makes it both scientifically informative and, in many ways, emotionally uplifting. It recognizes that the future of the oceans must include mankind; we can't be cut out as a solution. In my travels, I sometimes meet ocean enthusiasts who suffer from a sense of "burnout" because they feel overwhelmed by the problems for which we all share responsibility. "If man would just disappear, all would be right in the seas again." Perhaps, but at 6 billion and counting, that won't be happening anytime soon.
While Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet details the science behind the issues and solutions in a manner that recognizes the social and economic needs of mankind, this juxtaposition of both ocean and man doesn't weaken or dilute the magnitude or depth of the problems or the complexity of the solutions. There's plenty that the book covers to reaffirm the notion that what 
we do right or wrong in ocean conservation within the next 10 years could impact this planet for the next 10,000 years. But it presents these challenges in a way that should resonate with policy makers and politicians who respond to economic opportunities. And for us average joes, it provides us with an understanding of what needs to be done globally, enabling us to effectively judge the efforts of our government officials or international bodies - decision-makers who need to hear intelligent discourse from their constituents in the form of support or criticism, reminding them that they are accountable.
"The starting point for addressing the problems of human impacts on the ocean is to clearly remember that we do not “manage” the natural world - we manage people. Ocean life and ocean ecosystems are fragile, but can be remarkably resilient. If fish stocks are relieved from overfishing, if pollution is abated, and if other pressures are reduced, these systems can recover. These three simple facts—humans, not nature, can be managed; ocean life can be quite fragile; and that ocean ecosystems are remarkably resilient - show us clearly how to set priorities for ocean policy: focus on the human impacts, reduce their effects, and allow systems to respond and recover." - excerpt from the book
Availability Through Today's Technology
Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet is an important work and one that I believe should be appreciated by as many people as possible. But therein lies the rub, it would seem. A large, high-quality coffee table book does not come cheap nowadays. And according to Cristina Mittermeier, CEMEX has chosen to do a limited print run with many copies earmarked for select "turn-key audiences," as she described them. However, for as long as they are available, you can purchase a hard-cover copy directly from the iLCP website.
So why am I promoting what appears to be an expensive and somewhat elusive piece of literature? Because it is available - as an iPad app e-book. And it's free.
The publishers of Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet have made a brilliant move by making the book available for the iPad format. The choice of format was probably dictated by the popularity of the Apple device and the size and quality of its viewing screen. The book's pictures look bright and crisp and the text is easily readable, aided by a dynamic table of contents that allows you to jump to selected chapters. The interactive capabilities of today's app technology is not incorporated here and that is unfortunate - links, searches, live feeds and updates could transform the book into a timely reference source for both today and in the future. However, that is a minor issue when one considers it is currently available at no cost to the reader.
So, if you are like me and would like a stunning and informative look at our water planet, but would prefer not to see your coffee table come crashing down under the weight of one more volume, then do not hesitate. Download the iPad version of Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet from Apple's iTunes. Go to the App Store and type in "ILCP" in the search window and the iPad app will appear. (Or tuck a few bricks under your coffee table for support and order a hard copy.) Either way, you will not be disappointed.
I asked Greg Stone what he hoped the general public would take away from reading Oceans: Heart of Our Blue Planet. "Value the oceans as the most important asset we have on 'spaceship earth,' a vessel on an endless journey with no chance of resupply. We have to make due with and manage what we have."
Order a hard copy from the ILCP website.
Download the iPad app of the book using iTunes.
Photo Credits:
Purple sea stars - Thomas Peschak, iLCP
School of yellow line scads - Juergen Freund, iLCP
Madagascar fishermen - Cristina Mittermeier, iLCP
Ocean conservation benefits from the many informative and visually stunning collections of underwater photos that are available in a format known as the "coffee table" book. The down side is that these editions too often remain there, on the coffee table, becoming expensive and unwieldy interior decorations.
Michele Westmorland, recognized underwater photographer and recent inductee into the Women Divers Hall of Fame, took a different approach with her book, Ocean Duets. Producing a smaller, slimmer edition - one that won't throw your back out or crack the coffee table glass - 
Michele and writer Barbara Sleeper have a produced a very accessible and readable edition based on the concept of so many animals that live in the sea can be seen in pairs. From the tiniest of shrimp to anemone or clownfish to massive manatees, manta rays, and whales - the ocean is full of these "duets." Sometimes as mating pairs, other times developing symbiotic relationships, these pairings represent the linkage that binds the marine ecosystem together. Ocean Duets captures these relationships from around the world, but particularly from one of Michele's favorite haunts: Melanesia and the stunning reefs of Papua New Guinea to Sulawesi in Indonesia.
A busy lady, constantly living out of a suitcase and dive bag, Michele is preparing to return to Melanesia after a side trip to the Cocos Islands, I caught up with her at a recent lecture at the Aquarium of the Pacific where Michele not only presented her underwater work to impress the audience with the need for ocean conservation, but she also made the connection between the ocean and man with her images of the island people and their cultures. She is an advocate of the idea that if you travel to these remote but ecologically important locales, it can be just as important to see the interconnection between the sea and the land as it is just to marvel at what is below the waves.
Ocean Duets is available at Amazon.com. Printed on high gloss, heavy stock with a foreward by Dr. Sylvia Earle, it would be a great edition to anyone's underwater library, from families with children eager to learn about the colorful creatures in the sea to the well-informed ocean conservationist.
"It is now with a sense of urgency that I encourage everyone to use whatever talents and resources are available to continue to explore and understand the nature of this extraordinary ocean planet - as depicted so beautifully in the colorful images and captivating creatures of Ocean Duets." - Dr. Sylvia Earle.
Available at Amazon.com.
Last night, my long-standing dive buddy, Budd Riker, and I did a night dive at Shaw's Cove in Laguna Beach, California. Budd had been out to this dive location two nights before and was amazed at the range of sea life he came across. One round stingray after another, large mantis shrimp strolling across the sandy bottom, and surprisingly good visibility considering the flat sandy bottom of the cove.
But as can, frustratingly, often be the case when you come across an unusual occurrence, Budd had not brought his digital SLR camera that particular evening. And so here we were on Sunday, hoping for a repeat performance. On this dive, I kept my video camera at home (not much fun dragging a 70-pound rig through the surf) and was going to act as Budd's scout, using my underwater light to search for subjects to shoot.
We arrived as the sun was beginning to set. Some dark clouds were rolling in, but that did not matter to us (whereas in a daytime dive, losing the sun's ambient light would be a bit disappointing). Shaw's Cove has a large rocky reef structure to the right side that extends perhaps 200 yards out. At the moment, the tide had much of the top of the reef exposed and so Budd and I spent some time combing over the tidepools and recalling some of the many dives we had made here.
Budd has done literally thousands of dives at Shaw's Cove both for pleasure and when he used to be a scuba diving instructor. I had not done anywhere near as many, but still knew many of the contours of Shaw's Cove's reef structure. We talked of the "Crack" and grotto that runs across the reef and how much fun it was to investigate its many passages - always mindful of the occasional swell that could rush through, sending you on a roller coaster ride and slamming you against the rocks or a wall of spiny sea urchins if your timing was all wrong. Ah, the good times.
And so we waited for night to fall, reminiscing over past dives and noting how so many formations seem unchanged after all these many years. There seemed to be a consistency to the sea, a familiarity at Shaw's Cove that said, no matter what the ocean has been through, there are some things in life that never change. Now, with a black sky above, Budd and I suited up and waded through the very calm surf. Budd was ready for images of the many creatures he saw just a few nights ago. And I was ready to be his hunting dog, pointing them out to him.
That was the plan. The ocean saw things a bit differently that night.
We swam on the surface for a while before descending to 18 feet to begin our dive. Shaw's Cove has a wide sandy plain that drops off slowly, so one can travel quite a ways and still be relatively shallow - at several hundred yards off shore you can still only be at 25 to 30 feet in depth. We moved out slowly, keeping our eyes alert for those multitudes of stingrays and mantis shrimp.
But tonight was to be a very different night. First, I saw, through the beam of my light, what first appeared to be a considerable amount of particles floating in the water; sea grass pulverized by wave action perhaps. "Well, this loss of visibility won't make Budd very happy," I thought. Then I realized that the particles had an interesting dancing movement to them. Plankton! A multitude of minute larvae gyrating about - I felt like I was trapped in a goldfish bowl full of sea monkeys.
Next up on the changing menu was the contour of the sandy sea bottom itself. What was very flat a few nights ago, with small ripples in the sand, was now transformed into deeper ridges and valleys of sand, exposing purple sand dollars and allowing small ghost shrimp or juvenile halibut or flounder to find safe haven in the deep sandy depressions. Only a couple of small rays appeared and there were no mantis shrimp to be seen. Several types of crabs were scuttling about, raising their claws in defiance of the bright lights that gazed down upon them. We came upon two small crabs in the throes of conjugal bliss and while Budd snapped photos, the male slowly dug into the sand, holding fast to his mate and taking her with him. Oh, no. Hounded by the paparazzi once again.
And so what was familiar was now different. The sea can be a very fickle place. Some things can appear unchanged, dependable - this will last for eternity. And yet, below the waves, there is a very fragile and constantly evolving world taking place. Set into motion by waves, currents, temperatures, and the bio-rhythms of thousands of sea creatures, the yin-yang of the sea is susceptible to all of these influences and those imposed upon it by man.
Eventually feeling the chill of the early Spring water temperature, Budd and I surfaced and made our way back to shore. More surprised than disappointed that his hoped-for quarry had eluded him, Budd still had some great pictures from our dive. As we stepped out of the surf, we found that the dark clouds from earlier in the evening had now turned into a light rain; another reminder that our world is ever-changing.
It was a good dive and a reminder that we can never take the ocean and all that live within it for granted.
See more at Budd Riker Photography and Budd's blog.
Sunny weather is greeting the first arrivals to the BLUE Ocean Film Festival & Conservation Summit. The Monterey area (Monterey, Pacific Grove, Seaside, and more) is one of those great places on the California coast where, given the work opportunity, I would certain consider relocating.
First up on the day's agenda was my underwater video workshop, an opportunity for beginning and aspiring videographers to get a chance to hone their underwater skills with 2 dives in Monterey Bay and a classroom session. The water conditions were, perhaps, a bit typical for Monterey: the water can have an emerald green hue to it with some reduced visibility from incoming particulates. But that did not detract us from what turned out to be the big attraction of the dives.
The past week there had been a large influx of West Coast Sea Nettles - a small but beautiful sea jelly with w 3- to 4-inch dome, trailing white fleshy appendages, and dark red tentacles that trailed up to 18-inches. Did I say a large influx? Well, congregating in a layer from the surface to about 25 feet, they were in the hundreds if not thousands. Getting below them and looking up through the emerald water, it reminded me of the fresh water jellies of Palau - on steroids!
I had told the workshop participants that on this first dive I would have them focus getting key shots for building a video: master wide shots, tighter medium shots, close-ups, etc. Once we submerged and saw the gelatinous panorama laid out before us, I think class was immediately postponed on account of something that divers just don't get to see every day.
See or feel. It was impossible to not come in contact with the trailing tentacles of the sea nettles and that meant we were going to get stung. Fortunately, not badly; we would exit the water with a bit of a rash on the face or some puffy lips, but it would dissipate quickly. But the images in our minds - and hopefully our cameras - of these amazing jellies would last much longer.
That evening saw several receptions opening the festival. Famed photographer, David Doubilet, had a wonderful gallery exhibit of his work and it became the focal point of the evening with filmmakers and ocean conservationists talking shop over wine and cheese. David has become one of the uncontested masters of the above and below shots - half in the water, half out - and he was telling me he was not quite sure what made him gravitate often to this type of shot but thinks it may have to do with what impressed him with the ocean as a child. Above is the world we live in, and just below is the world we dream in.
I told him what impresses me with his above and below shots is how, in one frame of film, he is bringing together these two worlds; that they are not separate, a place that people cannot relate to, but are actually two worlds that share an important connection, a bond that is crucial to our future.
Well, I did say there was wine. . .
Today, the festival and conservation summit begins in earnest with industry discussion groups and more meet-and-greets. Friday through Saturday will see more of the sames along with a barrage of wonderful ocean films. It's shaping up to be a great week. More reports to come.
Being involved with video and film, I sometimes just like to revel in the pictures - no story, no facts and figures, just the impact of images that announce "here is something worth protecting."
For the past ten years, over 2,000 scientists from 80 countries have been cataloging pictures of marine life, sometimes rare and unusual deep sea marine life. Their efforts are part of the Census of Marine Life, or CoML, the final report from which will be released in October.
The drawback with these and other kinds of dramatic pictures of the seas is that it can give the impression that everything is all right. "The coral reefs are fine; just look it these amazing photos. There's plenty of healthy sealife; just look at this photo gallery." Well, you can find a little bit of peace in a ghetto; a little bit of humanity in the midst of a disaster - but it doesn't mean everything is all right.
This brief collection of images, published online in the BBC News, should only serve to remind us that the oceans need our concerted efforts to protect and conserve it. For the sake of its own beauty, for the sake of our own survival.
See more images and videos at the CoML website.
Perched on the ledge of a small outcropping of rock, an explosion of white soft coral intermingled with the waving arms of crinoids, against a dark blue backdrop and the faint light from the surface creeping around the edge of the reef wall. 
