Extreme fishing

It's been tough this year photographing on Biscayne Bay with all the rain run-off and virtual lack of low tide conditions. But finally, I got out on the water yesterday and what an awesome morning it was. It was fall holiday for me, so a day off from work became an opportunity to spend a morning on Biscayne. Because it was a work day for everyone else, it was just me, the birds and thousands of bait fish.

Once the sun cleared the low hanging clouds on the horizon, I had perfect lighting on the western shoreline. There were only a couple wading birds in the water and since I was two hours ahead of low tide, I thought I might see more birds as the water continued to recede. I paddled over to the mouth of creek where I noticed a white bird, thinking maybe it was my albino yellow-crown night-heron. it wasn't, but it was a great white egret and near it was a tricolored heron. I suddenly realized what was happening. Bait fish (2-3 inch minnow types) were spraying the water along the mangroves and the birds were staging along the edge ready to capture a meal.

With the beautiful warm light of the sun, the bait fish appeared like golden sparkles. With the mangrove reflections in the calm water, it was a beautiful sight to see. But what made this even better was that the birds were concentrating on catching the fish. I quickly honed in on the tricolor heron that was more active than the great white egret. The juvenile heron stood on the mangrove roots and waited with its beak pointed downward toward the water. As soon as the fish were in sight, it jabbed the water and most times came back up with a catch. The acrobatic fishing style was impressive as the bird held on to the mangrove root with its feet, flung itself beak first into the water while stretching its entire body to twice its normal length.

With the image below, I took the liberty of removing the shadowy mangroves in the background in attempt to isolate the bait fish and the bird. I like that the bird is somewhat shadowed by the trees, like the stealth predator it is.

The whole scene was mesmerizing. I found a good spot to stop about 40 feet or so from the bird. As the bird waited for the right moment, I waited for the right moment. At last, I was back in my zone. I sat still, finger on the shutter button, continuous focus ready to track the bird in the instant it moved. I stayed with the bird for a long time attempting to capture it in action and with hundreds of bait fish disturbing the water below it.

After awhile, there was very little going on, except for a little blue heron and a group of white ibises wading in about 1/2 ft of water. Some time with them provided me a couple more images of the day. It didn't seem like I had spent four hours on the water, it flew by so fast. It always does when you're having fun.

The colonial man o' war

Several years ago in the month of January I came across a beautiful object in the water on Biscayne Bay. Once close enough, I realized that the object was a Portuguese man-o-war, beautiful but painful to touch. I attempted photographing the animal (or should I say animals) as it reflected its vibrant blue in the water, matched nicely with the blue sky. At some point, Vivian passed close by in her tan canoe which created a more colorful composition. The image above illustrates this.

As this was my first Portuguese man-o-war, I researched it and learned that it is not one organism but many that are attached to one another. While wind, current and tides dictate the Portuguese man-o-war's path, it can inflate and deflate its gas-filled bubble in such a way to create movement or allow it to submerge underwater if threatened. Whenever I learn about a symbiotic relationship in nature, I am struck with awe by the incredible skills and tricks that animals demonstrate with one another. I learned that the Portuguese man-o-war has a symbiotic relationship with several types of fish that are unaffected by its venom. These fish know enough to swim under the man-o-war's bubble so as to be surrounded by the tentacles. By doing this, the fish are safe from predators that could be killed by the man-o-war. At the same time, the man-o-war benefits because unsuspecting prey will be attracted to these fish, causing them to become prey of the carnivorous man-o-war.

Several months after that encounter, I ran across another Portuguese man-o-war in Biscayne Bay. It was December and as with the previous one, the animal had been blown into the western shoreline by consistent easterly winds. This time, the man-o-war was in a shallow and wind-protected location, having been driven into the mangrove shoreline. It was covered in detritus from the grasses and other organic material being blown around the water, but it was in good light for photographing it. What was most interesting is that it appeared to be moving independent of any water movement. It rolled around slowly and at one time, extended and retracted its bubble. This made for some interesting images, each unique in its own way.

I kept going back to the images and one day I decided to create something different. I had been experimenting with isolating birds by darkening the surroundings to a pitch black. Looking at the Portuguese man-o-war, I decided that technique would be quite interesting. The man-o-war has lots of texture and its movements created various shapes and color plays. So with that, I display here some of those images.  I don't know if I will ever see another Portuguese man-o-war in Biscayne Bay waters, but this one offered me more than I expected.

Mangroves and Birds

One of my favorite places to photograph wading birds is on Biscayne Bay, in calm waters and during early sunlit hours. That's when the rising sun casts a gentle glow on the browns, golds and greens of the mangroves and the reflections cover the calm shallow waters. In those waters, several species of wading birds can been seen, white ibis, tricolor, nightcrown and little blue heron, and the great white and great blue and yellow footed snowy egret. Sometimes, other types of birds show up. In the winter the gulls (ringed billed included) appear in large quantities, as they were yesterday morning.

I paddled out of the canal at the Matheson marina at 7:30. Low was about that time and the north wind was relatively calm as a paddled past the boat ramp where several powerboats were launching. Soon I could see the shallow grasses adjacent to the deep channel. Silhouetted by the sun, I noticed dozens of little bird bodies scattered about and one or two larger long neck types. I paddled around the flat to get into frontlighting on the birds and watched several hundred gulls resting and leisurely floating in the water. Among them were a handful of ibises and one or two blue herons. I found a good spot but repelled most of the birds that flew to a slightly further point from me and my boat. Some of the ibises flew away to greater distances. The birds were facing the north winds, meaning they were not facing me. Not ideal.


There were a few white ibises that were busily catching food. They made nice subjects as the wind rustled their clean white feathers. Always a favorite bird of mine to photograph, I try to capture a captivating moment, as I have so many photos of ibises in similar poses. But always looking for the one special shot, I stayed with them for awhile. A black bird landed and splashed around a bit. That was something new for me here and the lighting was very nice. I changed my compensation from white bird to black bird and rifled off a few shots before the bird flew off.


A tricolor heron came into the picture and soon, I was harrassing it all along the shoreline. If given a choice among my subjects today, it would be the tricolor heron. It offers a greater variety of movements, often times spreading its wings and shuffling around the water. Not as dynamic as the reddish egret, it does have a pattern of movement that gives you lots of variations in poses, especially at 5 fps. Like the little blue, the tricolor appeared to get use to me and got quite close. It was very challenging keeping the skinny necked bird in focus as it moved through various colors of well lit mangrove roots and darker shadows of mangrove leaves.

Eventually, the sun and water were getting too high. Content with my morning photos, I paddled into the creek where my fishermen friends had been searching for snapper. They spotted a woodstork back in there (not exactly the snapper they were looking for). I once saw 4 woodstorks on the bay, a couple years ago in December. I paddled to where they saw the bird today and although I did not find the wood stork, I did watch a racoon hustling from one mangrove root piling to another. I also spotted several yellowcrown nightherons, both adults and juvys hiding out in the roots.

So today, the main focus was on the birds surrounded by impressionist mangrove reflections. Another perfect Biscayne day.

Ibises rule Biscayne Bay

Still dark, I drove to Matheson this early morning with no AC and the windows partially opened. This was an experiment to test whether or not it was worth the slight discomfort to get my lens defogged before entering the water. These days, the hot humidity steams up the lens once it is taken out of the pelican case and keeps it that way for a very long time. Meanwhile, birds fly by and photo opps are missed. My little experiment worked and when I arrived at the launch site at 6:15 am, the camera and lens were ready to go. I attached the flash and better beamer before getting out of the car

The sun had not quite peaked over the horizon that was layered in some low lying clouds. There was a slight breeze out of the east. The tide that was at its lowest 1/2 hour earlier had already begun to advance on the near full moon that would push it along. The grasses of the bay were exposed widely along the shoreline. So far, no flying birds, but I expected to see a large number of ibises appear at some point.

In the meantime, the feeding grounds behind me were starting to lively up. I noticed some little blues, a snowy egret, great blue heron and yellowcrown nightherons. And as a bonus, I had a couple raccoons in there. Cute little buggers, they were taking advantage of the low tide and filling up with breakfast, something more healthy than trashed leftovers.

Soon, the ibises started flying in. I faced a shallow tide area where by now, the sun was lighting up the surroundings quite nicely and the birds were increasing in number. The ibises by far outnumbered all others and there might have been over a hundred of them within a 1/4 mile distance of the shoreline. This was going to be a classic bay experience, and the sky so far was cooperating with light cloud cover.

I pushed the canoe along the grasses as close as possible to the birds. There were several laughing gulls in the mix. But the ibises did not like that. Seems that even among birds, gulls are considered low class and were promptly booted out of the wading birds' territory.

The water continued to move in, which is a nice set up for me. It means that I can continue to move closer toward the birds and if I am lucky, they will get use to it.

It was a good day, although I would have preferred a later low tide as I only had about an hour of wading birds. Tomorrow should be better. I only have a few weeks before my semester begins, so this week is all about the bay for me. Perfect tides and so far, perfect wind conditions.

Off the water before 10 am, I decided to head over to Fairchild for awhile. I was treated to some fun photos of blue land crabs. There were several of them crossing the grasses and hiding in the stone walls. Here's one of the shots.

Biscayne Bay: High winds, high tide

November 15: It had been over a month since I was on the bay, so getting out on a day when the tide was not ideal for wading bird photography and with expected winds picking up to a stiff 10-15 knots did not seem any less appealing than a day of perfect conditions. I missed being in the canoe and I missed the bay. We launched from Deering and I thought I might see some activity despite the conditions; maybe the gulls would be hanging out at the sponge farms, maybe the bird rookery would have some activity, maybe it would just be a good day to paddle. I had no expectations. And anyway, my new Sony telephoto zoom lens was sent in for repairs, the autofocus not working. Thankfully, it is under full warranty.

I thought I would take out the Minolta 300mm today. Maybe I would find something inside a creek or maybe I could get close enough to the gulls with the 300mm. In the back of my mind I think that sometimes it is a useful exercise to take one prime lens and make the best of it. I could have taken the 1.4 TC with the 300mm lens, but decided not to bother. The Minolta is a sharp, fast lens and I thought about how successfully I photographed wading birds close up on Biscayne Bay before I had the TC attached back in 2007. Some of my best shots were taken with that single prime lens.

Today though, there would be no wading birds, the high tide was about 9 am and what a high tide it was. I couldn't figure it out since the moon was only a little over half full. The water levels were high and all the birds were treed. Some of the single birds could be seen roaming around the edge of the mangrove shoreline or flying about. I saw a handful of great blue herons, great white egrets, a juvenile yelloowcrown nighheron, kingfishers, an osprey or two, a few green herons, and several ibises. On the islands, the brown pelicans were roosting and there were several flying and diving the bay. But it was the cormorants that outnumbered everyone. They were plentiful in the island near Deering Estate and they decorated the little mangrove islands that line the channel near Chicken Key. The bird rookery was full of them and they could be seen in great number in the water near the channel.

The cormorants were taking up residence at the sponge farms but as soon as I approached, they flew off one by one. This left room for some ringed-billed gulls and royal terns that came by to perch for awhile.

At one point I passed close to the shoreline where a very large manatee was resting. I came up on it about 6 feet away when the boat scared the animal. It made a strong wake in the shallow water and quickly passed directly under my boat. Geez, that always makes my heart stop. I've said it many times and I will say it again, the only time I am afraid of tipping over is in the presence of one of these behemoths. And there it was, large as a hummer, it's grayness illuminated in the shallow water as it gracefully moved away from the strange monster that appeared out of nowhere. Once my heart settled back into sinus rhythm, I continued on watching the waters more closely.

Today was not much of a photo day, such as it is sometimes on the water. This is a tricky time of year with the high winds and fronts that can pass through on a whim. Now is the time that I spend mostly camping in the Everglades, so getting out for day trips is infrequent. Work has saddled me more than usual. When I will be out here again is difficult to say, but whenever it is, it's going to be low tide early morning and it will be where the wading birds are plentiful.

Now, I am preparing for our Thanksgiving trip, the first camping trip of the season. I will not have my Sony lens back in time for that trip, but that's fine with me. I hope to see the white pelicans, and maybe capture the group in Chokoloskee bay before heading out Rabbit Key pass. In the meantime, enjoy the few photos from this day on Biscayne Bay.

Biscayne: Where the grasses are

I think my favorite place to be is in my canoe drifting along Biscayne Bay near Matheson Hammock near low tide. Today, I would spend the morning in my favorite place. Low tide was scheduled about 10 am, so the out going tide would be perfect for wading birds along the shoreline. Even better, we haven't been inundated with rain these past couple weeks, so the fresh water run-off from the canals would be nil.

We arrived at the launch site around 7 am. The Columbus Day regatta was in full swing. The evidence for this was the countless number of trucks attached to boat trailers parked at various points along the road leading to the launch site; those trucks belonging to people that got on the water yesterday and now were surely sleeping off hangovers while anchored somewhere near Elliott Key. A few cars were parked at our launch site, one with a young couple apparently rounding out an evening of who knows what by watching the sun rise over the bay. Someone had their tripod and camera set up in the water, here where sunrises are captured regularly by the locals. Dark morning clouds were raging across the horizon, just like they always do during those summer days. Above them, higher in the sky were those wispy winter-type clouds, the kind that splay out across the sky like a horse's mane and give notice of impeding weather changes. We look for those clouds during our winter trips when cold fronts and high winds can descend on us at a moment's notice.

This morning, the sun would mostly stay behind a very large cloud for awhile. I got on the water to see the sky about the Miami skyline, pretty enough that I took out the camera with the 70-400mm attached and shot some scenes at 70mm. I captured a few shots of the sun rise and after a few moments, turned my attention to the long shoreline that extends south of the launch site. Here is where I will find the birds and already I could spot a great white egret or two. I paddled over toward the mouth of the creek as I watched a number of brown pelicans diving here and there. The skittish egrets and herons flew off further from me as I continued to paddle in the shallow water.

I found some little blue herons that I could capture in backlit style. They are relatively easy to capture this way because they tend to feed at the edge of the grass flat that extends out from the shoreline a couple hundred feet in some areas. If you get between the bird and the shoreline, you can often get them in undisturbed water where little grass sticks out above the surface. Today, the wind was strong enough to cause a constant ripple effect, so finding that kind of shot would be impossible today. I decided to try my luck at some shots with various lighting. At one point, I set up my flash with better beamer for some shots of other birds that were closer to the shoreline. I managed one shot of the great white egret preening before it flew off far away.

The clouds came and went and for long periods, the sun would shine brightly before being covered again. Most of the morning I wen back and forth between highkey backlit shots to natural frontlight with or without flash to capture the birds feeding in the grasses. The little blue herons and ibises were the stars of the day while my attempts at shooting a tricolored heron or great white egret did not come to anything worthwhile. During much of the morning, the birds and I were punished with the loud and obnoxious music from the boats leaving the marina as they headed toward Elliott Key where an even more obnoxious and loud party awaited them. I felt safe and secluded in my grass flats, where no powerboats could come anywhere near.

Later, I paddled closer to the launch site where a couple of great white egrets were hanging with some other waders, two yellowcrown nightherons, a tricolored heron, little blue herons, and white ibises. I found a good location and stayed there for the remainder of the morning. I noticed that closer to the shoreline the water was not disturbed by the grasses, seemingly a bit deeper in that portion of the flats. Here, I watched the great egrets rumble with the tricolored heron over fish that would jump several feet at a time while being chased by a bird. I watched the egrets and tricolor capture relatively large fish, 6-8 inches in length. In the meantime, the ibises were nervously poking around the grasses and behind me were some little blue herons farther away from the shoreline. At one point, an osprey flew overhead but soon moved on. Brown pelicans were still coming and going.

It got hot today, as it has every day. By 11 am, I was off the water. In October, we are usually spending all our time in Chokoloskee Bay rather than Biscayne Bay. My photographs are testimony to that as I have no October dated photographs from Biscayne Bay, until today. I'm thinking that I may see some new things out here if I can continue to visit the bay before the new year. It's fall season for the northerners and that means more birds for us down here. Photographers have been waiting for this season to come. In the meantime, I'll continue to photograph into the fall season, as I have been doing all summer long in my canoe.

Biscayne Bay: finally, no storm clouds

Or at least not until after 1 pm, about the time we got off the water today. While launching near Deering Estate at 7 am this morning, we looked forward to being on the water all morning without worrying about the storms that dance all around us in the sky every time we come out here. But not today. This morning as the sun was already above the horizon, cumulus clouds that eventually would burn off roared up into the sky as the sun backlit the scene. The white ibises were flying overhead instinctively toward some daily destination. The calmness was inviting as I began to paddle north toward Chicken Key.

Before heading out to Chicken Key where eventually I would paddle to the sponge farms, I took a detour to the little island in front of the Deering Estate. The island was alive with hundreds of cormorants, many of which were juveniles, not yet adorned with those striking emerald eyes. They were flying about quite actively and would make their landings in the canopies facing the sun, which gave me a good angle for flight shots. Despite hanging out with them for some time, I didn't manage to score a good shot at a shutter speed of only 1/640. I bumped up the ISO to 640, but with a +1 compensation, the shutter speed wasn't quite adequate for these speedy birds. Most of the shots came out too blurry and besides, they were on to me as they would move away to a perch well away from me.

I left the cormorants and headed out toward Chicken Key where I would watch 4 brown pelicans swimming and diving for a short while. The air was calm, but the sun was already high above the horizon at 8-8:30 am. I wanted to head over to the sponge farms just north of the channel that runs past Chicken Key. The sponge farms are nothing more than several large wooden sticks sticking out of the water at various heights. At low tide, many our about 5-10 feet above the water surface. There are a few communities of sticks within a 1/4 mile length of bay. Each community contains about a 12-20 sticks within a small area. I thought I would hang out there thinking that the gulls would be quite active. The stick perches are perfect as most of them are at eye level, perfect for capturing gull interactions. I wasn't sure what to expect because I didn't not see one gull all morning until I finally arrived at the channel. Soon, I noticed many gulls flying about. Mostly laughing gulls, immatures and winter plumage types. I also saw a few herring gulls, mostly immatures and several royal terns.

I approached the spong farms where I watched gulls and cormorants flying about and landing and taking off from the sticks. I noticed once before that the cormorants will mostly fly away with an approaching boat getting too close. The gulls on the other hand, stick around. They do not seem to mind my presence one bit. I suppose they are so use to humans with their docks and boats and frequent hand outs. If one or two do fly off in fear, it is only a matter of seconds before they have a change of heart and come back.

I anchored near one of the sponge farms in the best lighting and background position I could find. And there I sat for probably a couple hours as the gulls entertained me. Gulls are common, no doubt about it. But the gull is a lively subject to photograph, especially when there is precious real estate to fight over. They fuss with each other constantly and make so much noise when one approaches, it alerts me to an impending photo opportunity. The interactions today were perfect as they landed toward me and the sun. This was brilliant for capturing full wing spread as they attempt to land on a stick already occupied by another gull. Despite being "lowly" gulls, they are beautiful and quite fun to watch.

After several hours on the water, I headed back toward the bird rookery island where by now, all but 2 of the cattle egrets were gone. The island was still littered with nesting cormorants, and I watched some adults coming in with nest material. A few anhingas were also spotted as their long necks stood out over the canopy. I paddled back to Deering with Vivian and we met up with our friend David. I had been picking up a few pieces of debris as I always do when out here and today, I noticed a very large white object in the mangroves. I paddled over and found it to be a large piece of styrofoam, about 4 ft by 3 ft, with a few wooden planks loosely attached by 1 ft rusty nails. It was the remains of some kind of floating platform. I managed to pull it loose from the mangroves and I thought I could haul it back. David some how got it up onto the stern of my boat and balanced it as best he could. With the large object behind me and in a slightly imbalanced boat, I paddled back to the launch site. With some help from a stranger, I carried it up onto land next to a garbage can hoping it would get picked up with the other garbage.

It was 1 pm before I was driving out of the parking area. Six hours on the water today and it was brilliant! I am a lucky person to live here.

Biscayne Bay: end of summer and perigee moon tide

With the neverending storm activities crossing Florida every day, I wasn't sure if I'd get out on the water this weekend. True to form on Sunday morning, the weather radar showed orange and yellow storm activity over Miami and some of the bay. It looked like it was dissipating, so by 6:30 am, we were on the road to Matheson Hammock. The low tide was about 5:30 am, but with the perigee new moon, I didn't know what to expect on the water. What I did expect was to not launch from the usual canoe launching area, which would be completely under water before noon from the incoming tide. The tide differential was going to be almost 3 feet and the strong perigee effect would probably increase that considerably. To avoid finding my car in 2 feet of water, we launched from the canal.

I headed out to the bay via the marina channel only to be confronted by a very large dark storm cloud that was beginning to produce lightening and thunder. The rolling clouds that completely covered the Miami skyline continued heading out across the bay. I decided to paddle back to the canal and stay close to the launch site until I knew what this storm would do. The easterly winds picked up and as I headed back to the canal, I passed a kayak fishermen who continued on into the bay. He was attracted to the cloud scene and I don't blame him, it was amazingly beautiful.

Back at the canal I crossed under the bridge and noted that the water line was about 1 foot from the edge where people often fish, the highest I have ever seen. The incoming water was rushing me through the canal and would continue throughout the morning. Near the launch site is a large truck sized garbage bin where several black vultures were dining. From the dead fish smell emanating from the bin, I guessed that these birds were having some feast. Many of them were flying to and from the slash pine trees and with a bit of wind, they would perch on the bendable branches precariously. I thought they would be fun to photograph in silhouette form so I anchored near the edge of the shoreline and hung out with them as several went back and forth from the garbage to the tree. Not long after I started, it began to sprinkle, enough that I put away the camera.

It wasn't raining hard and the storm that displayed lightening earlier never amounted to much and splayed out over various parts of the sky, still dark, but not threatening. After some time, it pretty much stopped raining. I paddled down the canal to the opening of the creek that leads out to the bay eventually. The water was so high that the normally wide creek was tight. I soon noticed that the tiny mangrove crabs were at eye level with me as they attempted to keep themselves above the waterline. These mangrove crabs are fascinating, a very strange looking creature that lurks around the mangrove roots. They are extremely shy and as soon as you spot one, it quickly scuttles the opposite side of the root so that all that is showing are its tiny feet and maybe a protruding eye or two.

I continued on and thought I would find my golden silk orb weaver and maybe a crab or snail to photograph. This would not be a bird day, although I did happen upon a green heron who saw me before I saw it. The spider was in her usual spot and today, I was closer to her with the high water level. I had my anchor set up too, but this would not be an easy day for photographing in the creek. The water was rushing through and made it very difficult to set up. It didn't help matters either that the no-see-ums were thrill seeking and pretty much did what they pleased. They weren't so bad that I needed to get my bug dope out, but they did give me the itchys for awhile.

I headed out to the bay to see what I could see and check out the storm situation. It could get ugly, but then again, it might not. The nastiest looking storm was off shore but it seemed far enough to not be a problem. Boats were heading out on their usual course not minding the storms that danced all around. At the mouth of the creek, schools of bait fish were flying out of the water in the hundreds as they get chased by something large. In the meantime, Vivian was snapping up snappers left and right. Seems they head into the creeks and face the incoming water as the bait fish are pulled toward them.

Bird activity was minimal today, a few ibises were looking out over the bay from high slash pines and one brown pelican flew by following the shoreline and occasionally diving as it headed north. The gulls were flying en mass, but that's typical this time of year. Instead of heading back through the creek, we decided to paddle through the marina. We passed our usual launch site which by now was completely underwater. I paddled over to it and continued over to the road where we normally park our car to load our boats. We passed the very busy marina where 6 boats were at the docks ready to head out, having waited for the boats that were already in the channel. I got back to the bridge where a few hours earlier the water was still below the edge. Now, the concrete was covered in about 1 foot of water, a 2 foot difference.

When the water is so high, photographing is futile from my canoe. High water means strong tides and the current makes it difficult to stay in one spot. Not only that, there are no wading birds to speak of. At low tide, I have the entire area near the mouth of the creek filled with wading birds. Today, that same area was covered in about 3-4 feet of water. The moon is a powerful presence. I see it's power everytime I come to this bay.

It's officially the end of summer. Fall is here and soon, my attention and time will turn to the Everglades. I expect to get out to Biscayne a couple more times over the next month or two.