The Jurassic Coast from the Sea

Steve Belasco is a photographer who has dedicated 12 years to capturing the beauty of the natural world through his lens. His stunning photo book ‘The Jurassic Coast from the Sea’ showcases the rugged and awe-inspiring landscape of the coastline in southern England. Belasco’s passion for photography is evident in every image, and his dedication to his craft has resulted in a collection of breathtaking photographs that are sure to inspire and delight readers.

I’m in no position to teach my grandparents (fellow BIPP members) to suck eggs. So I’m afraid most readers will find this article anecdotal rather than educational. I’ve recently had my third photobook, ‘The Jurassic Coast from the sea’ published, which is selling nicely. It consists of some 180 photographs of the eponymous Dorset and East Devon World Heritage Site, which is 95 miles long, all shot from my motorboat. Over the last 12 years I estimate I’ve cruised more than 2,000 miles up and down the coast, all year round and at most times of the day and night. The only real restriction is the weather; a small motor boat offshore is no place to be when the wind pipes up.

There are a few specific challenges when working from a boat… the most important, of course, being to stay in it. Nearly always working alone, apart from the odd occasion when Zelda my sea hound accompanies me, means if I go over the side, there’s no-one aboard to rescue me. So safety is always the number one priority. And I often wish I had two pairs of hands and eyes… it’s more than once that I’ve been squinting through a lens only to eventually look round and realise I’ve drifted closer to the rocks than intended.

But I’m no hero and try not to take risks and the one time I fell in was stepping from the boat into a dinghy which decided to move away at the worst moment. Fortunately, although fully clothed, I didn’t have my camera backpack on! But it still took 20 minutes of hard work, involving stripping off, in March waters, to haul myself back aboard. Lost the mobile and car key but no camera gear.

The biggest technical challenge is camera movement. Unfortunately, VR doesn’t seem to be able to cope with a boat that can be pitching, rolling and yawing, at the same time compounded by my trembling disposition. So that means high shutter speeds, which often means using lenses at full bore. Which creates three other issues: it’s a severe test of a lens’s wide-open performance; you get the depth of field of a fag packet; plus the autofocus often struggles.

My working lens is an old 80-200 Nikkor f2.8. My others are 20mm, 50mm and 300mm mid-level Nikkors. Perhaps surprisingly the telephotos get by far the most use as it’s often not practical to manoeuvre the boat as close to the subject as I’d like. This exaggerates camera movement even more and underlines the need for those high shutter speeds. I try to work at 1/2000 most of the time which then often necessitates a high ISO.

Some subjects are understandably less accommodating than others; for example, some warships don’t take kindly to you zooming up close and pointing a lens at them. My ‘intentions’ have sometimes been questioned by HM’s Navy over the VHF with a ‘please keep your distance sir, we are carrying out manoeuvres’, which is their polite way of saying ‘go away’!

Less politely, I once pottered slowly up towards a very large anchored US Naval vessel on a warm, quiet afternoon when suddenly a deafening, twangy voice shrieked out, ordering me to leave the area immediately. I nearly fell out of the boat. I think it was one of those directional loudspeakers that they aim like guns and which, I believe, (turned up a few decibels) can paralyse or even kill people. (I’m sure I heard a muffled laugh at the end!)

Nonetheless, the sea is a fabulous environment in which to work, with some unique lighting conditions. You’re really sitting in a giant reflector pushing light back into harsh shadows and almost creating an HDR effect naturally.

Then there’s a weather phenomenon called a sea-breeze front. Mainly in the summer and autumn, warm, moist air comes across the Channel and rises as it hits the land, producing fluffy white cumulous clouds all along the coastline. Looking landward, this makes for tasty skies, but standing underneath them on the shore looking outwards, all you’ll see is blue sky.

If you’re trying (and I emphasise ‘trying’) to earn a living from marine photography, you really need your own boat. Otherwise there are many ‘tourist boats’ that will take photographers out for a daytime or evening coastal cruise for a reasonable price. Here in South Dorset we have resident dolphins and seals which means dolphin-spotting trips are very popular… and good images of them sell well too!

I’m a regular contributor to several local and national magazines which just about covers the boat-running costs but editorial photography rarely pays well these days and it’s considerably more fiscally rewarding for me to supply large pictures for individuals, hotels, restaurants, business reception areas, etc.

My latest scheme is trying to develop ‘fine art coastscapes’, particularly in monochrome. I’ve found the subtle tonal structure of the sea blending into the land and the sky lends itself very well to greyscale reproduction. It’s a bit of a circular photographic journey as, 40 years after becoming a professional black and white smudger and later overdosing on the stunning colour possibilities of digital photography, I find myself back in black once again…

I gained my L and ABIPP along the way and would love to finish with an ‘F’ but fear I’m running out of time!

The coffee table book, ‘The Jurassic Coast from the sea’, is now available direct from me for £16.99 UK postage is £3.00 (any quantity)

Copies available from www.stevebelasco.net