WH Yeo Photography

Portfolios: New Zealand

A portfolio of images from my New Zealand tour (Apr-May 2011). From crushing waves to icy peaks, the South Island of New Zealand has opened up a whole new world of landscape photography for me. For sure, this will be the first of my many trips to Aotearoa (New Zealand in native Maori).

The peaks of Mount Cook was quite often hidden behind the wispy clouds. Thin as they may be, they constant cloud cover was often a test of patience.
   
At the forest trail next to Lake Wanaka, I was in wait by the tripod for a jogger to come through, running towards the camera. Half an hour went by and I saw a small dog sprint out and I was bolted into action. The shutter speed was however too slow to freeze both the dog and its lady owner. All of a sudden, they both paused into their tracks and the lady looked back, giving me enough time to squeeze off a few frames.
   
The sight of the Reef Stars threw out the worried look I had as I rock-hopped across the waters. I was elated but finding an ideal composition with the Reef Stars filling up certain areas of the frame was perhaps the tougher thing to do when compared to the rock-hopping.
     
  
Tasman Lake, a location where the peak of Mount Cook could be seen not just at the top of the frame but at the bottom where the glacial waters hold her reflection.
   
The sun was too high in the sky to be worth doing any serious landscapes. Heading across the road to a small shaded area. I saw the carpet of autumn leaves and did a panorama before getting more experimental with slow shutter speeds and rotating the camera handheld.
   
The waters at Lake Tekapo was a unbelievable turqoise blue. The side lighting enhanced the colours on the hills and provided a nice complementary colour to the waters.
     
  
The air was getting chilly as the sun bidded us goodbye. Pacing up and down while I took 30 second exposures was the only way to keep myself on the edge of the comfort zone.
   
Staring at the famous lone tree of Lake Wanaka, I wondered about the possiblities when I saw the reflection in the water. The overcast gloomy sky was perfect and the shoot was over in minutes as it the heavens opened up.
   
Once set up, it was not click and go. To get the waves at the right part of the frame, it was essential to wait, shoot and repeat the process till the perfect frame is achieved. During the entire process, changes to filtration, exposure settings and fine-tuning of the composition have to be made.
     
  
Panting with each step, I stopped midway up Castle Hill. Staring at the rocks, I caught breathe and wondered how they really had a more stable hold on the ground then I had.
   
From curves to stacks, the rocky beach of GreyMouth was a treat to work with.
  
The flat bed of rocks with angled lines and soft light from the sunrise came together for this photo at low-tide. Within half an hour, the bed was once again submerged.
     
  
Lake Wakatipu at Queenstown was silent in the early morning. No steamer ship, no motor boats with gliders in tow. It was a feeling that would last only a few hours before the rising sun wakes the town.
   
  
At a lake off Queenstown, the autumn colour was in full throttle and the morning sun negated the use of any additional clicks of the Saturation slider.
     
  
Resembling the paterns of the Silver Fern on the New Zealand flag, the boat left a trail that lasted only a few seconds.
   
It may not look like it but the clouds were not moving much at all. The Big Stopper (10 stop ND filter by Lee) was used to slow the shutter speed way down and only then did the sky showed some movement.
  
It was something that bothered me: I did not have a recognizable object next to the big rock just off Fox Glacier. That would have shown it's less than obvious size really nicely. I however guessed it was about 2 stories tall.
     
  
A 3 shot panorama with the Canon 24 TSE, the 3 rocks stood out together from the empty lands.
   
After thousands of years of constant pounding by the waters, the Moeraki Boulders are now subjected to the damage by vandals.
   
The farmer's dogs were sprinting up and down the fields, seemingly begging for work to start.
     
  
The ultra wide angle used here exaggerated the size of the Reef Stars which are really just palm-sized.
   
The lone tree seemed to be the only member of the forest striving to reach for the skies. Taken at the Catlins, the still waters provided a near perfect reflection.
   
At Wilson's Bay near Queenstown, the rock stacks were beckoning and the evening light was lifting the clouds nicely. The rush to get to the location with the light arriving is always a heart-pounder.
     
  
At Gillespies beach, after trying hard shooting the petrified trees trunks and roots, I headed down to the waters and with the ominous sky, composed the outgoing surf before the rain fell.
   
With the rain pouring down, Lake Matheson Cafe became a comfort for the battered souls. Stuck in a cafe with nothing to aim for was something I could not take for long however. So heading out for a walk in the drizzle, I stood over the running waters and saw the waterflow being shaped by the rocks.
   
The Comorants at Kaikoura seemed not to mind the splashing of the occasional wave. Perched high on the rocks, they were however spared the smaller currents that was far more frequent.
     
  
Lake Hayes was in rich autumn colour when we arrived on the morning. The dark clouds in the distance added some nice contrast to the warm scene in the foreground.
   
The piece of floating ice was placed on the rock by one of the group and even though I personally will not really do that, it made an interesting photo.
   
Perhaps my favourite image from the few days spent shooting Mount Cook. It would have been fantastic to have clouds but we always wish for more right?
     
  
Knowing the rules of composition is not to enforce them into onself but rather, it allows us to know what we are breaking and allows us to think out of the box. In this image, there is no foreground, no rule of thirds but something about the hills coming together with the clouds pushed me to process this image.
   
With a wingspan close to 3 metres, the Albatross instills fear in the smaller birds as they head towards the boat, in hope of getting some food.
   
Troubled by the thought of not getting something worthy from the petrified roots at Gillespies Beach. I paced around this particular root when I stopped and looked at it from a top-down angle. Bingo.
     
  
That was exactly what I felt the cows were telling me though I hoped not. Doing so would however mean tumbling downhill a few hundred metres.
   
The lake was filled way back in time and will soon be disppearing with the forest taking over the fertile land. The enclosed area meant that the waters were often void of movement.
   
The small herd of sheep, just an insignificant fraction of the 70 million in NZ provides a good sense of scale of the size of the hills. I was however more in awe of how graceful they were in scaling the slopes. Practically effortless.
     
  
The sun was up and started to light up the peak of Mount Cook. Wanting something different from the usual wide angle shot of the scene, I switched to telephoto and maneuvered till I had a reflection and part of the melting iceberg in the frame.
   
The lenticular clouds wee slowly forming up and rushing downslope (whew!) to a spot that had a clear view of the hills, I waited before the light and clouds came together to make the picture.
   
The clouds came in and the sky was no longer worth to be included in the frame. When that happens, I tend to head for the macro compositions. In this case, I was lucky to have a wave having a shape similar to that of the Reef Stars.
     
  
The rays were coming slowly but surely. This was one of the few moments when I could set up, ensure the composition was as perfect as I could muster and wait for the show to start.
   
Perhaps one of the "wildest" images of any place I have made of. The foamy like waters was critical to the initial impression. If the shutter speed was longer, the water flow will be smoothed out and impart a totally different feel.
   
The second last frame of the day. The light was fading fast and that not only posed problems with the shutter speeds but also the search for a composition.
     
  
The cool blue of the dark clouds along the horizon provided the much needed contrast from the spot-lit hills. The lone tree provided a point of interest and sense of scale.
   
A long hike to Hooker Lake was well worth it as the scene unfolded before us. It could be much more placid and I truly could have gotten a mirroed version of Mount Cook but the gentle breeze was constant and that disturbed the waters.
   
The Reef Stars have amazingly strong suction and I have not witnessed one dislodged by a rush of water.
     
  
The fiery sunset was coming to an end and the Comorants were perched on the rocks, braving the cold winds and huge splashes of water. It did not last for long though as they were off a few minutes after this shot.
   
The kayak was what caught my eye but a red kayak in a blue lake does not really stand out much. Walking briskly to the left, I aligned the tree within the frame and waited for the kayak to enter the frame.
   
Getting across to this marshland was a mission itself. The stream that had to be crossed was cold and the steambed was not visible at all. The yearning to get the shot was however overwhelming and the hesitation was soon over and done with.
     
  
As I framed up the image, the thought of how long the pebbles and rocks have been subjected to the eroding prowress of the rushing waters came through my already exhausted mind. From boulders to rocks and rocks to pebbles, they have for sure been subjected to the force for millenia.
   
Mount Cook (Aoraki in native Maori) was bathed in clouds on the evening. Straying off the trails by a few metres, I managed to get the well-worn path off the frame.
   
Despite their close proximity to the farmers, none of the sheep I saw was really comfortable with human presence. This particular kid was having a good meal and I was about 50 metres downslope when it noticed me. After staring at me with its chomping action slowing down, it turned and trottered off.
     
  
A somewhat tedious climb of both hard and softened rocks brought me to a aerial view of the boulders and waters. The light was however not ideal and that begged for a monochrome.
   
The air was amazingly fresh and even though I was panting a little from some rock hopping, it was a great feeling to be out there and the resulting image just reminded me of how clean and unpolluted the air was.
   
A blend of 2 exposures. The first was a 30 sec exposure of the famous church at Lake Tekapo. The second exposure was for about 60 minutes for the star trails. Blending in Photoshop was an easy task as both images were aligned perfectly.
     
  
As calming a feel this image can impart, it was actually a bit of horrifying experince for me. After setting up, I shifted my foot and heard a cracking sound. Looking down, I realised I was standing on a sheet of ice and that saw me jumping up onto the rocks behind me.
   
Curio Bay with the never-ending lengths of kelp is also where the Yellow-eyed Penguins head out to sea every morning. It is baffling how they can swim through the dense formations of kelp and not get stuck amongst them.
   
The first morning at Queenstown saw fantastic light of magenta and reddish hues coming together. With not much foreground near the lakes, I decided to just get a shot of Queenstown with the majority of its residents still snugged in bed.
     
  
With lactic acid burning in the calves, I climbed albeit a little clumsy with the load on my back onto the rocks and stared in awe of the scene ahead. The waves were thunderous and the rocks on the seabed were breaking them up. It was only after 20 minutes of triggering did I get the pattern I wanted.
   
The title is perfect for the image as I only had just a split second for this image. The waves would come in and displace the 40cm wide rock and I would be once again looking for it on the beach and moving quickly to compose before the next wave comes along.
   
Hiking a distance from the hotel, I reached a clearing and was grabbing snapshots when a solid rainbow appeared on the left, over the Remarkables. Running back to the tripod and grabbing it, I sprinted up a slope to get over the trees for the resulting view.
     
  
Leaving the group behind, I headed down the slope towards the edge of the lake which was about 1 kilometre away. I was amazed by the frosty scene ahead and proceeded to get the Canon 500D closeup filter onto the lens to allow closer focusing. Few steps later, the lone yellow leaf standing out from the green terrain caught my eye.