Robert’s Ramblings

There was a time when a solar eclipse was seen as an ominous sign, a warning that forces beyond our understanding had power over us and that the Sun itself might somehow be taken away.

Today, solar eclipses are one of those internationally celebrated occasions where countries that have won the next orbital mechanics lottery get to host one of the world’s most spectacular celestial events.

Sadly, Ireland did not win this year. For that we will need to stick around another 64 years, until Saturday, 23 September 2090. Still, we made the most of the partial eclipse that graced our sky tonight.

It was always going to be a long shot that we would see anything at all. Despite an unseasonal 28°C here in County Cork, very seasonal cloud covered the sky for most of the day leading up to the event. For the two hours from start to finish, I think we glimpsed the Sun perhaps ten times, each glimpse lasting just a few seconds.

The most profound experience was that deep dip of light and the odd feeling it created just as we passed through the peak. Even with only a few percent of the Sun visible, it was still quite bright, but quite strange.

I got one or two lovely reminders of the eclipse before dark clouds hid it all. Of course, 10 minutes after it was all over, the Sun came out in full.

That’s Ireland!


#SolarEclipse #PartialSolarEclipse #Eclipse2026 #astrophotography #SolarPhotography #celestial #NightSkyPhotography #IrishSkies #Ireland #Cork #sun #eclipse

We had spent a remarkable day at sea, travelling from Valentia Island to Kerry Head and back again. Now, halfway between Valentia and the Blasket Islands, the long journey home still had one more moment waiting for us.

The western sky had become a world of fire and shadow. Great banks of cloud burned orange and gold above the dark Atlantic, while Inishnabro stretched across the horizon in silhouette. Beyond its jagged eastern end, the distant shape of Tearaght appeared through the light.

After a day filled with ocean, islands and adventure, it seemed impossible that there could be anything more. Then the sun found a gap in the clouds and transformed the entire seascape.

Some days are remembered for the places they take us. This one saved something remarkable for the journey home.


#Ireland #BlasketIslands #sunset #GolderHour #Inishnabro #Tearaght #SeaScape #Landscape #Kerry

There are places where time seems to move differently … in the strangeness of dreams, in the immersion of flow, and in the time spent beneath the ocean.

Rising from the Atlantic off Ireland’s south-west coast, Bull Rock is imposing, with its famous navigable ocean tunnel, exposed lighthouse and one of Ireland’s largest gannet rookeries. We had come for a different reason, to explore beneath this oceanic marvel.

We began our dive by navigating the tunnel that bisects the island. Below us, it descended into a deep V-shaped groove, like the imprint of some vinyl record from ancient history. As we swam, we played the role of the needle, tracing its time-worn tune through the dim, dim light.

As we approached the other side and the light returned, those grooves began to fill with colour, with sponges and anemones, with starfish, urchins and the willowy sway of kelp.

As divers, our time underwater must be carefully managed, and we rely on computers to keep us safe. Still, I like to dive with a mechanical timepiece.

The bright orange of the dead man’s fingers sponge caught my eye. I took off my watch and rested it briefly among the cluster. The bright strap seemed almost designed for the setting, echoing their colour, while the brushed metal case caught the light from my strobes. Behind it, the kelp and open water faded into deep Atlantic green.

Placed in this context, my watch created an entirely new sense of time. It reminded me that our visits beneath the surface are always temporary. Yet surrounded by creatures that grow slowly and live according to tides, seasons and currents, time itself seemed to stop, as though it no longer mattered.

Underwater, time is experienced rather than measured. A minute spent descending can feel like forever, while thirty minutes exploring a reef can disappear almost instantly. The second hand continues its steady progress, but my own sense of time becomes shaped by experience.

Bull Rock is not a gentle place. Its exposed position brings currents, surge and rapidly changing conditions. That energy is also what makes it so alive. It was a lucky day for us, and one to be remembered time and time again.

This photograph became less about the watch itself and more about the contrast between two ways of measuring time. One is mechanical, precise and human-made. The other is written slowly into the growth of sponges, the movement of kelp and the enduring presence of the rock.

For a few moments, at least, they shared the same time and place.

#scuba #diving #BullRock #CountyCork #WildAtlanticWay #underwater #Ireland #UnderwaterPhotography #DeadMansFingers #sinn #watches

It’s 35 degrees C at sunset for most of Adelaide after another sweltering day. Most would be sheltering from the heat indoors, cocooned in power-hungry air-conditioned buildings.

There is a place of respite, no more than a couple of kilometres out into the gulf, where comfort costs no more than the effort it takes to get here.

The ocean was like a millpond tonight. Dolphins could be seen breaking the surface in the distance. A gorgeous sunset painted the western sky orange, while the carnival lights of the Glenelg foreshore to the east responded with colours of their own. Best of all, it is cool out here. Cool, gentle and beautiful.

Whether it is skimming across a millpond ocean or rocking gently adrift at sea, there is nowhere else when it’s 35 degrees that I can imagine I’d rather be.

Above or below …


#sunset #glenelg #GoldenHour #boating #ocean #calm #tranquillity #SouthAustralia #respite

For nearly 20 years of my young adult life I made my way down Button Road, through the middle of the Wangkuntila Aldinga Conservation Park (Aldinga Washpool), to get to Silver Sands Beach. In all that time I never noticed the natural treasure all around me.

At the time, windsurfing was everything to me and the ocean in the distance created a kind of tunnel vision, making me blind to anything other than the beach and the sea beyond. In fairness, my visits were invariably in summer, when the ephemeral wetlands appeared as parched grass and dry spinifex. From the road, the dried-out lagoon basins were simply not visible.

Today I wandered through that very same parched grass and dry spinifex and, for the first time, I noticed the meandering course of Silver Sands Creek. I noticed the pools of brackish water persisting through the dry heat. I noticed the juxtaposition of waterless salt pans alongside the green of sapphire.

Now that I know the treasure I have been missing out on, I will make the effort to visit again when South Australian winter rains fill the lagoons and Aldinga Washpool shows its wetland beauty.


#aerial #Aldinga #AldingaWashpool #WangkuntilaConservationPark #drought #saltpans #abstract #texture #AerialPhotography

It’s such a conundrum for me diving here at Port Hughes with both gorgeous mega and macro photography opportunities. I love big underwater vistas, so almost always I will go wide angle in the hope of capturing the huge schools of scad amid soft coral-adorned pylons.

On occasion I have dived with divers carrying two full DSLR rigs (I’m looking at you, Yorko), but short of my own personal caddy, I think I’ll stick with just one for simplicity. Still, I continuously keep missing out on the gorgeous macro life down here.

When I found this beautiful short-tailed nudibranch, Ceratosoma brevicaudatum, on one of the pylons, my frustration was the same as always, leading to the thought, ‘next time I’ll dive macro’.

Still, all was not lost as this little critter had positioned himself such that I could get my huge dome within a couple of centimetres and capture this image.

This style of image is called ‘close focus wide angle’, and when a macro subject offers this, it is a wonderful opportunity to show them in the context of their surroundings. Perhaps it’s the best of both worlds, keeping the sense of connection between critter and the environment it lives in.

So will I go macro next time I dive Port Hughes jetty? I’m sure I’ll consider it, but I’ll probably go wide again as always.


#CeratosomaBrevicaudatum #critters #scuba #diving #PortHughes #macro #CloseFocusWideAngle #nudibranch #seaslug #underwater #SouthAustralia #ShorttailedNudibranch #UnderwaterPhotography #ScubaDiving #UnderwaterMacro #MarineLife

Underneath Port Hughes jetty there is a school of yellowtail scad, the scale of which rivals any location in South Australia I’ve ever dived. I distinctly remember my very first dive here many years ago and how it took my breath away.

This is one of those locations full of amazing tiny creatures which draw you into the world of macro photography. It also has the large vistas of soft coral-covered pylons and those amazing schools of yellowtail scad cruising through them, demanding wide angles.

The first time I dived here I was focused on the macro and the little things and spent much of the dive ignoring the nudibranchs and following the scad, wishing I had a wide angle lens instead. Most dives since I’ve gone for wide angle.

Capturing good images of highly reflective fish is really challenging. It’s like trying to photograph the dust on an old mirror in the dark. Too much strobe light and all you get is a blast of light right back at you with no detail. Too little strobe light and the details disappear into blue-green monochrome.

Perhaps I should make my next dive here a macro dive and explore all the amazing tiny creatures that live here, but I just know that FOMO will get the better of me and that wall of yellowtail scad will just tease me for the entire dive.


#YellowtailScad #scad #yellowtail #yakka #TrachurusNovaezelandiae #scuba #diving #PortHughes #SouthAustralia #underwater

We entered the water eager to see the condition of the headland reef and buoyed by recent reports of other divers who had seen the dragons.

Snorkelling across the bay, we encountered a returning group of divers. Their disappointed question was, “Do you know where the dragons are?” We simply did not know, so we never made the returning group feel like they had missed out.

We explored the very healthy-looking sea grass. We investigated the headland and into the western bay beyond. No dragons.

We looped back again to explore the ledges and caves of the headland. Still no dragons.

Then I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look but only saw Andy offering wild gesticulations. He had found something. And then, there they were, not one but two beautiful weedy seadragons on the edge of the reef.

South Australia is world-renowned as a destination for observing leafy seadragons, but the weedies, or common seadragons, are by far my favourites. Their striking patterns and gorgeous colours make them spectacular. It was a joy and a privilege to see and get to photograph these amazing critters.

Despite the algal bloom, the two dragons we found seemed alert, happy, and only slightly annoyed at my paparazzi presence. Thank you, Andy, for your keen eye.

There be dragons indeed.


#PhyllopteryxTtaeniolatus #CommonSeadragon #WeedySeadragon #SecondValley #SouthAustralia #scuba #diving #underwater #photography

While looking for seadragons at Second Valley, we took the time to explore the deep undercuts and caves of the headland. You never know what you might find lurking in the shadows.

Andy found the first one. I found the second. Two perfect, beautiful, juvenile blue devils within a few metres of each other. Both no larger than 10 centimetres in length, they looked in every way like miniature versions of the adults they will hopefully become.

The usual behaviour of local juvenile South Australian reef fish is for them to flit and cavort in the shallows, carefree of their future lives. They are always a delight to see and correspondingly hard to photograph.

Blue devils, as exotic and gorgeous as they are, seem to have been born in the same beautiful and grumpy skin that they will inhabit for their entire lives.

Blue devils begin life as pelagic larval travellers. At some point – probably when they start looking grumpy – they find a nice little cave, ledge or wreck, and settle in for life. It is not uncommon to see the same individual over decades of diving if the environment has been kind.

Given the precarious state of our gulf, and the toll the algal bloom has extracted, it was an absolute delight to see two brand new blue devils taking up residence and bringing colour back to Second Valley.


#BlueDevils #fish #SecondValley #SouthAustralia #scuba #diving #ParaplesiopsMeleagris #recovery #underwater #photography

Despite the algal bloom, Second Valley has had some fantastic conditions for diving lately, with images and video circulating of crystal clear water and weedy seadragons. So Second Valley was yesterday’s diving destination with my long-time dive buddy Andy.

It was a hot day – South Australian heatwave kind of hot – which made the wetsuit donning something akin to being reforged in the fires of Orodruin. On surviving Mount Doom, the cool 22°C waters off the jetty were an exquisite delight!

We tracked around the headland, noting how healthy the marine life seemed compared to deeper north into the gulf. Andy found two weedy seadragons, which made the dive perfect. We found two tiny little juvenile blue devils a few centimetres in length.

My delight for the dive was this spotted pipefish – one of the syngnathids I rarely see and have never really captured a good image of.

And I am still trying…


#diving #pipefish #scuba #SecondValley #southaustralia #SpottedPipeFish #underwater