Tell an underwater photographer that you
have insight into an animal's behavior, and
watch them drop what they are doing and give you
their undivided attention. After all, moments
that depict courtship, mating, nest guarding,
egg laying, predation, cleaning and the like are
the scenes many of us strive to capture with our
cameras. But often overlooked is the fact that
knowing about an animal's natural history and
habits can also be extremely helpful when trying
to capture a simple portrait of a marine
creature.
The image of the juvenile spotted drum that
accompanies this piece provides a classic case in
point. No doubt, juvenile spotted drums are
wonderful subjects. With their long, wavy fins and
distinct markings, they have a great look. But
getting the shot you want can be a challenge. These
fish constantly start and stop, change direction,
change again, and stop and start again as they flit
around the reef. As they make their way, they often
swim through small openings in the latticework of
the reef while staying fairly close to a number of
potential hiding places.
Acquiring a good portraiture becomes a much
easier task if you know that while juvenile spotted
drums are often on the move, they tend to swim in
oft-repeated patterns (or near patterns). Armed with
that knowledge, you can avoid hopelessly chasing the
fish around the reef. It is best to find a good
place to photograph the fish, set up your shot and
wait for your quarry to return.
That is exactly what I did to capture this
image. When I first located the fish, I watched for
a few minutes to see where it went as it wandered in
a convoluted path around a square yard or so of
reef. As the fish moved along I looked for an
unobstructed opening in the fish's path where I
would have a clear shot with my lens and my strobes.
I had several options, and ended up choosing the one
in which I could add a splash of color in the
background by including the orange sponge.
Then, I got myself into a position about 2 feet
(0.62 m) away from where I thought the fish would
appear, a distance that would allow me to fill a
pleasing percentage of my frame with my subject
without frightening the fish into hiding. I
established my focus, set my aperture and took a
test shot to check my exposure by reviewing my
histogram. I knew the fish would push the limits of
my sensor's latitude because the fish's body is
black and white, a classic exposure dilemma. I
decided to slightly underexpose the shot to prevent
my strobes from "blowing out" (overexposing) the
white parts of the fish. Of course, underexposing
would mean the black body parts would shift toward
solid black, but I decided that was better than
blowing out the highlights.
Once I was set up, I waited, and within a
20-minute period what I got for my knowledge about
the fish's behavior were eight good shooting
opportunities and this photograph.
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