Search

A Michigan Moment

A valuable composition lesson I have learned from my dad is that visually small objects, or

August Blast

The battle between ships and mariners and the elements has intrigued me since I was young boy watching on the Ludington waterfront from my parents’ and grandparents’ automobiles as one or more of the several Ludington carferries still operating at the time fought their way through strong ice or fierce waves en route to and from Wisconsin. I never lost that fascination. When I became a journalist and photojournalist for the Ludington Daily News in 1970, I loved keeping an eye out for photo opportunities involving Lake Michigan boat and ship traffic. The carferries were my favorite muse, not only because I loved watching them but because the big ships were a vital segment of the local economy, and most of our readers had ties to them or at least enjoyed seeing them in action through my newspaper photographs. The big black ships with white trim also lent themselves perfectly to black and white photography, especially during the winter. Of the tens of thousands of carferry images I have made over the years, this one is my favorite black and white carferry photograph. On January 27, 1977, the 35-knot westerly winds of an arctic storm had driven ice shoreward and packed it tight like a giant trash compacter at the Ludington harbor entrance. The powerful, coal-fired steamships with extra-strong hulls for ice breaking could usually bulldoze their way through the ice, but this ice was packed 25-foot deep, leaving the City of Midland (right) nowhere to displace it as the ship attempted to steam that morning to Wisconsin with its load of railroad freight cars. The Midland ground to a halt just outside the harbor entrance. Several hours later, another C&O carferry, Spartan (left) became stuck while attempting to steam out past the Midland and break a path to open water. She ground to a halt just beyond the lighthouse. The ships fought the ice for hours, with assistance from the tugboat Mary Page Hannah. I took a lot of shots (too many, some might say) trying to capture peak moments. As evening approached, the two ships were now facing bow to bow with the lighthouse between them. While the Rule of Thirds is one of the age-old guidelines for composition, I looked at this scene and said to myself, what are the odds of these two great ships being so symmetrically positioned with a lighthouse between them? This was a time to break the rules if I ever saw one. To make the image even more symmetrical and three-dimensional, I backed up my camera position to include more of the two shadowy ice mounds. A lot of perseverance, thought and work went in to making this image. I gave it my best shot and was rewarded with one of my best shots ever. It doesn’t always work out that way, but, even with a good shot in the bank, I have long stood fast at changing scenes waiting for the big money shot.

I grew up with orchards, flowering bushes, and gardens surrounding our farmhouse. I was fortunate to purchase a home that also has apple trees and several flowering bushes in the yard. This is one of my favorites.

My dad has taught me how to use my camera to convey different emotions within the same scene. To portray a peaceful summer evening mood, I stood in the puddle and positioned my camera and tripod inches above the water

The battle between ships and mariners and the elements has intrigued me since I was young boy watching on the Ludington waterfront from my parents’ and grandparents’ automobiles as one or more of the several Ludington carferries still operating at the time fought their way through strong ice or fierce waves en route to and from Wisconsin. I never lost that fascination. When I became a journalist and photojournalist for the Ludington Daily News in 1970, I loved keeping an eye out for photo opportunities involving Lake Michigan boat and ship traffic. The carferries were my favorite muse, not only because I loved watching them but because the big ships were a vital segment of the local economy, and most of our readers had ties to them or at least enjoyed seeing them in action through my newspaper photographs. The big black ships with white trim also lent themselves perfectly to black and white photography, especially during the winter. Of the tens of thousands of carferry images I have made over the years, this one is my favorite black and white carferry photograph. On January 27, 1977, the 35-knot westerly winds of an arctic storm had driven ice shoreward and packed it tight like a giant trash compacter at the Ludington harbor entrance. The powerful, coal-fired steamships with extra-strong hulls for ice breaking could usually bulldoze their way through the ice, but this ice was packed 25-foot deep, leaving the City of Midland (right) nowhere to displace it as the ship attempted to steam that morning to Wisconsin with its load of railroad freight cars. The Midland ground to a halt just outside the harbor entrance. Several hours later, another C&O carferry, Spartan (left) became stuck while attempting to steam out past the Midland and break a path to open water. She ground to a halt just beyond the lighthouse. The ships fought the ice for hours, with assistance from the tugboat Mary Page Hannah. I took a lot of shots (too many, some might say) trying to capture peak moments. As evening approached, the two ships were now facing bow to bow with the lighthouse between them. While the Rule of Thirds is one of the age-old guidelines for composition, I looked at this scene and said to myself, what are the odds of these two great ships being so symmetrically positioned with a lighthouse between them? This was a time to break the rules if I ever saw one. To make the image even more symmetrical and three-dimensional, I backed up my camera position to include more of the two shadowy ice mounds. A lot of perseverance, thought and work went in to making this image. I gave it my best shot and was rewarded with one of my best shots ever. It doesn’t always work out that way, but, even with a good shot in the bank, I have long stood fast at changing scenes waiting for the big money shot.

The base of the Ludington North Breakwater Lighthouse juts seaward like the bow of a ship as the carferry Badger returns to Ludington harbor on a late summer evening.

Few places on Earth offer as grand a view of the sky as the east shore of Lake Michigan. Hikers on the Ludington South Breakwater provide a sense of scale to show the size of storm front clouds arriving in Michigan from Wisconsin.

A momentary lull in the wind stops the nearby snow from blowing long enough for me to make an image of the intriguing patterns of the sand, snow, fences, and waves along the Lake Michigan shoreline today.

Ludington Light Redone

Blazing Light

Blazing Light - vertical crop

The night took my breath away, not from trying to breathe the below zero air but from viewing the icy splendor before me on Lake Michigan at Ludington.

I love the coldest mornings; they often render Lake Michigan waterfront scenes in incredibly sharp and colorful ways. The setting moon and rising steam made this a picture that warmed my soul. I live for moments like this when my camera takes me where my heart wants to go. I tell my photo students, follow your heart with your camera.

Rugged ice and towering waves define the Lake Michigan shoreline in the coldest winter months. On cold, clear days when the sun graces us with its presence, the ice displays different shades of blue and white. On this day, my friend, Rob Alway, and I made our way out on the ice and we each came away with some powerful photographs.

My dad and I have taken many beautiful photographs at the end of Ludington Avenue. On rough days, that location allows you an unobstructed view of the Ludington North Breakwater, while still offering some protection from the blowing sand and water.One risk still present is thin ice. Just after I captured this photograph, the ice beneath me gave way. Luckily, only my feet got wet.

When I came out of the gallery tonight the sky in the west looked like it had potential to be spectacular. I checked my phone for the sunset time and knew I had about an hour to kill. Just before six I headed out into the cold. I made this photograph at three minutes after six. It was one of the most colorful sunsets I had ever photographed. F22.0 at 3.0, ISO 100, 70-200 mm lens at 200 mm