Robert's Ramblings

There were no belfries anywhere in sight but that did not stop the fruit eating, wing flapping, throat screeching foxlike locals from taking up residence in the tree next door.

For the most part they were good neighbors, kept the music down, their garden tidy and were not partial to dropping burnouts in the street or even encouraging such behavior.
For most part we lived harmoniously as good neighbors might; until ... a fight broke out.

You could tell the signs well in advance as one bat happily supped nectar another would start to taunt.

First there was the inconspicuous upside down and sideways shuffle getting almost shoulder to shoulder before a sharp wack of a wing sent the offender off in a screech.
The second time the screeching began even before they could swipe each other. An exchange of wing wacks ensued leaving the defender hanging and the offender flapping madly in thin air.
The third time it was all out war with screeching and flapping and leaves flying.

Then like magic they both find their own nectar laden flowers and settle down as if nothing ever happened.

That would not have been so bad if it had happened only once, twice or a handful of times.
Instead, we had a hundred fruit bats squabbling over and over for an hour or more as afternoon turn to dusk.
Then as night fell all became silent.

They were good neighbors after all.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Just Hanging' 1/100s f/4 ISO160 280mm

There is a blue out there in the open ocean that can't be described. When that black water is filled with a luminous glow, the bright sunlight reflected by millions and millions of tiny particles suspended.

That blue glow, softly caressing, beguiling, comforting me, encouraging me to follow, down and down and down to follow these gentle beasts as they dive.

The ache in my lungs forgotten, the pressure in my ears ignored, that gentle blue glow, that hypnotic blue glow, like a siren's song begs me follow as the gentle beasts descent below.

Softy at first, then louder and louder like Cloister Bells in the halls of Gallifrey a warning sounds. This beautiful blue place is not all it seems having drawn me down here to a depth I should not be.

I look up but all that I see is that gentle blue glow, every direction that gentle blue glow and those warning bells louder and louder.

The enchantment broken, the whales now gone, alone in this luminous blue I start the long swim back to the surface again.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Into The Blue' 1/320s f/7.1 ISO160 15mm

Everything we see around us is relative to everything else we see around us. Small is smaller than big, huge is bigger than large and minuscule is smaller than tiny.

All meaningless really without the context of everything we are comparing everything else with.

To me this makes macro images so interesting because our whole paradigm of comparison becomes useless.

When I look at an image created under a microscope my mind desperately tries to relate what is sees to things we know. More often than not I see things that match objects I am more familiar with.

In this case I however I have the upper hand. I observed my subject from a distance in the world of 'the normal', swam up close to it (there's a hint for you) then photographed a small part in macro.

Of course its a collection of orange pebbles in rice, ... or is it?


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Orange Pebbles in Rice' 1/160s f/22 ISO320 100mm

I'm not the only one drawn to the mystery of the nooks and crannies of the world.

Just like me these paddlers want to know what's inside Swallows Cave.

Just like me the darkness piques their curiosity, leads them to explore the cracks and the fissures and the places the light can't reach.

A short while later, when they had seen all they thought there was to see they paddled back out into the stark sunlight again.

What's curious is they never saw me floating here in the watery darkness observing their explorations.

I wonder what else is down here, never seen, observing all of us.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Watery Grotto' 1/30s f/3.2 ISO1600 15mm

We came across a few of these Yellow Paper Wasps, Polistes olivaceus, while in Tonga.

A couple hung around our house, often cruising through the un-shuttered kitchen before heading out into the trees again.

I do wonder how they came to be here. Did they hitch-hike on some vessel or were they blown by the winds from mainland Asia to finally make a home here.

Next time I meet an entomologist I will remember to ask how far flying insects can travel and maybe shed a little light this one's story.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Yellow Paper Wasp' 1/160 f/7.1 ISO400 280mm

Blue water fan, a Tongan man, returning to his place of birth.
Searching eye, a pirates smile, you've chosen to share your self.

Ballerina you should have seen him dancing in that blue.
Now he's with me, always with me, tiny dancer in my head.

Oh how it feels surreal being here, remembering you,
only you, and I can see you, and I can feel you ...

Show me, show me tiny dancer.
Count the moments that you gave.
Lay me down in sheets of sunlight.

We had a wondrous day that day


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Tiny Dancer' 1/160 f/10 ISO320 15mm

A tiny fin breaks the surface as the waves all around flatten in a way they disquiets the soul. Below a dark shape looms beneath the oddly stilled water.

Without warning the tiny fin rises to becomes a massive black life-scarred body. Larger and larger until my vision is filled by an animal that could drown us all in an idle gesture.

Then in the gentlest of movements the leviathan arches to dive. It's massive body flowing up and over and down back into the depths again.

For a while we gazed at that expanse of stilled water where moments before a giant had been before the ocean reclaimed its own and the waves returned.

Photo: Robert Rath, 'Leviathan' 1/2000 f/5 ISO160 160mm

Like a tribal decoration, elegant, ornate and with a geometry only nature could devise you hang there in the evening gloom of a dark and cold sea.

Oh so patient with your paparazzi fan, lilting this way and that way you tease me. Some times eager to show your best side and sometimes not wanting to be seen from any side.

Despite your generosity, having had enough of my terrestrial intrusion, gently you drift back into the algae and the sea-grasses to once more resemble nothing more than their gently sway back and forth on the ocean floor.


Leafy seadragon, Phycodurus eques, Rapid Bay


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Tribal Decoration' 1/160s f/13 ISO320 100mm

At the end of a big day out on the ocean we all get together to eat and to drink and to talk about our adventures.

At the end of a big day out on the ocean the boats all get together too. I wonder if there is some hidden spirit in those wooden hulls that look over and protect their human occupants when they take to sea.

I wonder if those same spirits, if indeed they exist, share their own experiences of the day.

Regardless, they look so tranquil here as they rest in protective waters until tomorrow when we will all head out into the ocean again.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Until Tomorrow' 1/30s f/4.5 ISO1600 17mm

Imagine for a moment you are battleship engaged in some mortal cat and mouse game with an enemy submarine.

Suddenly out of the deep blue gloom a long grey torpedo shaped object comes into view heading directly for midships.

With no time for evasive maneuvers, counter measures are your only hope now.

Closer and closer it gets until you realise it is not a torpedo after all. It is the submarine about to ram you!!

Ok, so I have played up the drama just a little but actually having 25 tonnes of grey ballistic whale swimming directly at you comes with its own unique combination of fear, panic, distress, acceptance and joy.

In the future if I ever find myself targeted by a large grey underwater ballistic object I sincerely hope it is a humpback whale.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Ballistic Joy ' 1/125s f/6.3 ISO160 15mm

Some moments are beyond words, beyond description.

In this moment the ocean's murky gloom fell away as mother brought her newborn calf out of the deep water towards the light and the life-giving air above.

In this moment I forgot I was hanging in a vast ocean far away from my everyday life. All that mattered here and now were these two beautiful creatures.

We watched her guide baby to the surface, gently nudging this way and that way and then down into the deep water again.

It's not unusual to see a creature care for its young but the way she brought baby into our view, the way she caressed it just like a proud parent and then the way she took baby away to the safety of the deep water again, to me this was not instinct but pride and intellect and love.

This was one of those moments.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Love' 1/250s f/8 ISO320 15mm

One night at dinner I described how I planned to swim out into the harbour at night and capture our home away from home as a long exposure in the starlight.

Later that night when all was quiet I put my camera attached to a small tripod on top a boogie board and gently slipped out into the water.

I'm not sure what I was thinking that night. Even at my highest ISO it was not possible to make out our waterfront villa shrouded in darkness and despite how calm the evening was, even the tiniest movement of the water sent the lens peering off into an infinite variation of contorted directions.

Not one to give up on an idea I took the time to play with ideas, point the camera in other directions and experiment all the while being super careful as the camera was NOT in its housing.

This is the image that finally worked for me that night. It is the view looking back at the lights of the township of Neiafu while floating 10cm above the water.


Photo: Robert Rath, 'Drunken Neiafu' 8s f/4 ISO1600 40mm