The Camera is the Least of It

I’m in Alaska at the moment, and have been for the last three weeks. Next year, I will be here for 5 months. For now, however, it’s a breakneck schedule. A week living on a boat photographing orcas, humpbacks, seals, sea lions, puffins, and a menagerie of other species. From there, it was float planes into remote and isolated lakes high up in the mountains to photograph bears feeding on sockeye salmon. And as I write this, bags sit piled up next to me ready for yet another bush plane flight to yet another remote stretch of Alaska in search of bears chasing down a different species of salmon: coho. Different fish. Different environment. Different photographs.

But here’s the thing: these days, EVERYBODY photographs brown bears in Alaska.

Folks like myself have made accessing bears in the remote backcountry of Alaska easy for many photographers. We spend years on end scouting and photographing areas only to then begin organizing workshops to bring others to these same locations. I can’t tell you how many times I have opened up a magazine or landed on a website only to see a photograph that is almost identical to one of mine that was created by one of my workshop clients.

No hard feelings here on my part. I’m genuinely excited to see clients succeed like this. But this does bring up a very basic question about wildlife photography in the 21st century. With so many photographers running about with big lenses in extraordinary places now-a-days, how do we continue to make our work stand out?

On the one hand, the business of wildlife photography has very little to do with what happens behind the camera. Instead, 90% of it is what occurs once you have made it back to the computer with those photographs. But that does still leave the other 10%, which is the photograph itself.

Keeping ourselves relevant, making sure our work always stands out, is the secret sauce that every working photographer is constantly trying to sus out. As we begin our journey into this form of visual art, this concept is typically framed as “trying to find our unique style.” But as we begin selling our work, this question becomes paramount.

None of this is to say that you have to single handedly revolutionize wildlife photography, of course. Instead, this is a matter of finding better ways of working that help our photographs stand out.

Sometimes this is a matter of camera equipment. I choose to use extremely fast glass such as the Nikon 120-300 f/2.8, 400mm f/2.8, and the 600mm f/4 for a reason. 99% of the time I am shooting wide open with these lenses and working as close to my subjects as I need to be for the given lens choice (instead of relying on cropping) in order to achieve a specific look and feel to my photographs.

Likewise, when Sony released the A1 with a truly functional animal eye tracking algorithm, I knew that this was going to revolutionize wildlife photography for ever and so jumped on the Nikon Z9 as soon as it was made available for Nikon professionals. If Nikon had taken another couple months to release this, I would have likely switched to Sony. Why? Because these new and advanced autofocus systems that are only capable with mirrorless systems (without the mirror, the camera can stay in constant communication with the camera) allow me to concentrate more on what actually matters in a photograph – composition and creating a photo that has impact or tells a story.

With all of this said, however, more often than not, the stuff that really makes a tremendous difference in the final product of our photographs has little to do with having the latest and greatest and most expensive equipment. Instead, it’s usually the ancillary gear that allows us to create unique and compelling imagery that we couldn’t / wouldn’t otherwise.

For me personally, one such piece of gear are my waders.

Sometimes I use waders to actually “wade” into deeper or colder water. I have multiple pairs of waders for this reason. My 5mm neoprene waders are what I use in truly cold water. I have literally had saltwater freeze up around me in these and had to break ice with my elbows because it was beginning to constrict my breathing. I also have a pair of Simms waders that are lightweight and breathable that I practically live in when I am in Alaska photographing bears – which sort of brings me back to the beginning of this article.

More important than staying dry in the water is the ability to not have to worry about water, mud, dirt, wet sand, etc. Waders allow me to get down and dirty. Or wet. Without consideration of my clothing beneath.

This is important.

One technique that we use as professionals to help our work stand out is simply getting down as low as possible to our subjects. I love the look and feel of photographing just an inch or two above the water – meaning my lens is just an inch or two above the surface. I love the look and feel of images created where the lens is literally laying directly on the ground as well. These types of angles allow us to create intimacy with our subjects. We bring our viewers into the world of the animals themselves and we create compositions this way that are not often seen.

Thank of it this way. . .

Let’s say you and another photographer are out in a small wetland with a boardwalk above the marsh. You decide to walk down the boardwalk and photograph birds as you find them. You are about 5 feet above the surface of the water and looking down at the birds. The other photographer is doing things completely different. This person is actually in the water at the edge of the marsh looking at the subject from eye level.

Consider the difference in photographs that you and this other photographer are now creating. You are looking down. For this reason, the background is only 3 or 4 feet behind the animal. Even at f/2.8 there is a ton of detail in there that competes for your viewers attention. Likewise, the high angle is obvious.

As for the other photographer, everything is different. They are eye level or lower to the bird. There is a nice long and silky reflection in the water. The background is much father away since they are not shooting down at the bird and thus capturing the water 4 feet behind the subject.

Which photograph is going to be more compelling?

Which photograph is going to “look” more professional?

Which photograph is going to be easier to sell?

Few photographer bother to actually get down and dirty (or wet) with their photography. This means that photographs created from these angles and in these situations are already unique in a world of cliché photographs for sale by millions of other photographers.

Here in Alaska, I am photographing bears on beaches, from boats, and from the banks of rivers. I’m not a big fan of bears eating sedge. They remind me of fuzzy cows in June and July when they are all standing around gorging themselves on green “grass.” For this reason, I choose to come photograph brown bears in August and early September in order to hit the peak of the salmon run. Bears running through the water. Bears with fish in their mouths. Bears doing giant belly flops off rocks into deep pools of water. Bears playing in the water. Bears fighting in the water.

So, for this reason, a pair of functional waders is equally as important to my photography as the camera and lens and tripod that I use day in and day out. Can I lay belly down in the mud? Can I wallow around in cold wet sand for hours on end? Can I jump out of the boat and set up in 4 feet of water coming off a glacier because the composition is unique and beautiful?

If I were wearing jeans and a pair of boots, the answer to all of the above would be a hard no.

Sitting on float planes, I’m wearing waders. Sitting in boats, I’m wearing waders. Sitting in the mud, I’m wearing waders. Sitting in the water, I’m wearing waders.

All of this comes together to give me options. If I see a photograph I want, I can make it happen. I can wade to the other side of a creek. I can wade out into deep water. I can wallow in mud and sand and grit and grime and yuck. Then, when I am ready, I can simply peal off the waders and walk into a lodge or restaurant or whatever.

Waders, for me, equate to access to new and unique compositions that others are unable to create.

And this is the point of the whole thing.If you are going to be in the business of selling photographs, then you need to create photographs that are different in some fashion from everyone else’s. And while the latest and greatest camera equipment can help in some fashion, more importantly is your ability to access wildlife in new and unique ways.