What Makes A Captivating Image?

 

Imagine you’ve invited some friends over for dinner. You spend all afternoon preparing and cooking a well-planned meal. After your guests finish eating, they enthusiastically proclaim it be one of the best meals they’ve ever eaten. Then they ask “What kind of stove did you use?”  In this context, it would be a nonsensical question that no one would ever ask.  But as a photographer, I’m very frequently asked what kind of camera I use when well-meaning admirers view my underwater images.

The implication is that all the magic happens inside the camera, and the photographer is merely the lever puller who simply manipulates the marvelous technology that’s really responsible for creating the magical images.  To ask photographers what kind of camera equipment they use is as meaningless as asking a chef what kind of stove he uses.  The question usually comes from novice photographers who are looking for a shortcut to propel their own photography to a higher level. It may seem like an innocent and not irrelevant question, but it fails to identify the secret that’s the real foundation of stunning images.

Thirty years ago when I first began taking underwater pictures, I was consumed by the same quest. If I could just find a great underwater camera, I’d be able to take pictures for National Geographic just like the pros did. Every few years I would buy a better camera, a faster lens or a more durable housing.  While that did make a difference in the quality of the pictures I took, something was missing that took me years to detect. In my case, with underwater photography, I had some of the best equipment I could afford, but what was lacking was sufficient knowledge of my subjects.

This wasn’t something I was aware of decades ago. Instead, it was a shortcoming that has only revealed itself in retrospect. Over time, as I learned more about the lives of the fish I was photographing, my images of them became more appealing and more penetrating. I began to study their behavior and their body language and I began to notice how my own body language, movements, and behavior affected them. In time, a kind of communication developed. I became able to recognize subtle cues from timid fish and learned how to approach them in non-threatening ways. I also learned how to send out my own signals which fish could decipher that would put them at ease.

My office bookshelves that were once filled with photography books began to be populated with books about fish and fish biology. As I learned more and more about my subjects, not only did my appreciation and knowledge for them grow, but my photography of them improved dramatically.  

Reading about fish was invaluable, but my real education came from the fish themselves. As I spent more and more time underwater observing and interacting with them, they divulged more and more about themselves. Over time and one by one, all their habits, routines, and individualities that weren’t discussed in fish books were revealed like a cascade of unmasked secrets. I make no apologies for anthropomorphizing fish when I talk about their personalities. When you’ve spent as much time with them in their underwater habitats as I have, these conclusions feel not only justified but undeniable.

Today, when young photographers ask me what kind of camera I use, I ignore the question entirely and instead encourage them to learn all they can about their subjects.  In all areas of wildlife photography, if you fall in love with your subjects and let them teach you, it will be impossible for your images to not mirror that love and appreciation. And I think that single element, one that admittedly can’t be quantified precisely, is what makes a captivating image.   

What we Can Learn From Fish When We Spend Time With Them:

Do fish have individual personalities? I'm often asked this question and I have some definite thoughts about it. For me, the answer is unequivocally yes. I’ve been photographing fish underwater in their natural habitat for over 25 years. In that time, there are long stretches when I’ve worked with the same individual fish for years at a time. I think most would agree that just like the personality distinctions one could make between say poodles and collies, distinctions between different types of fish certainly exist. Northern pike have different personality traits than largemouth bass and bluegills. Each species possess their own “group personality identity”.  But I would also suggest that it goes further than that. Individual fish behave differently from their cohorts and exhibit what can only be regarded as unique personalities with as much depth and richness as those of our own pets. 

Epiphanies about fish like this one can easily escape the casual observer and are only possible when one spends an extended amount of time observing and interacting with them. But because fish live in a world separate from ours, it’s difficult to do this in the same way birdwatchers can for example.  To observe fish in their natural habitat, we have to go under the surface with masks & snorkels or diving equipment. 

On warm summer days, our lakes are filled with swimmers and boaters, but they’re largely unaware of the diversity of life that swims just below them. We’re deaf to a grand symphony in concert under the surface. In recent years kayaking has become a very popular way to enjoy our waters. I’d love to see snorkeling gain that same kind of popularity in our inland lakes and become something you do every weekend, and not just when you’re in Hawaii on vacation. 

I’d encourage anyone interested in animals, and especially those interested in fish specifically to explore snorkeling as a way to observe and enjoy fish. They’re so fascinating to watch and there’s much we can learn about them.

Summer Largemouth Bass-Where to Find Them

It's late summer and we're getting some really attractive Largemouth Bass images showing these fish using thick weed cover and a variety of other natural habitat elements.  

At this time of year, we face several obstacles when photographing bass. They tend to be harder to find because they're occupying all areas of the water column and tend to be widely dispersed. Water clarity diminishes this time of year as well, making normally suitable lakes too murky or "green" for good photography.  Finally, there's a seasonal shift in attitude of these fish by August.  Bass that were very approachable in the spring have become more wary and timid by late summer, so getting closeups of them becomes more difficult.  

Despite all those challenges, we're still able to get some fine images of them in their natural habitat.  Check out all our latest Largemouth Bass in our Largemouth Bass Gallery.

Getting Close to Fish: How's That Done Exactly?

How Do You Get So Close to The Fish? Why Don't They Spook?

That's a question I get asked frequently by many people. To photograph fish well underwater, it's necessary to get very close to them. So how do I do that? One thing I've done is to develop a series of techniques that communicate to the fish my lack of hostility, and my general inability to compete with them as creatures perfectly designed for life underwater. One way I do that is to present myself as obviously as possible. I don't try to ambush or deceive them. I don't wear a camouflage wet suit. I don't sneak around or hide behind boulders or timber. I don't try to advance toward a fish when he can't see me. I don't even try to be particularly quiet.

In fact I do the opposite of all those things. I make sure the fish see me coming from a long way away. I try to show myself out in the open and demonstrate what my limitations are. Ideally, you want to convey to the fish how slow and incompetent you are in it's environment; how clumsy you are; how incredibly un-stealthy you are; This is so opposite of what a predator would do that many fish are able to detect that you're not a threat to them, based on your complete lack of cunning or covertness. You want them to see you and think that you're completely ridiculous (which you are of course). The faster you can get them to understand this, the faster their fear will disappear. 

What I'm mainly trying to do with this approach is to begin a relationship with a specific fish or fishes that I expect to see many more times in the future. However, if you have one chance on one day with a fish you know you'll never see again, I'd recommend a more stealth approach. 

Ordinarily though, I'm just trying to get fish used to seeing me. Over many visits to the same lake, the same fish will see me time and time again. Eventually, as bizarre and strange as my appearance may be to them, I won't be considered "an unknown scary thing" to avoid. Fish will come to regard me as that "big funny looking turtle-like thing" they sometimes encounter. Nothing to worry about. Once I can establish this kind of confidence level in the fish, they give me permission to approach closely to get the kind of pictures I want without causing them to flee.

As many who work regularly with wildlife will tell you, it's all about body language. It's the way animals communicate with each other and the only way for inter-species dialogue to occur. Learning how to eliminate unintentional signals of hostility or threats to animals is something we can learn to do and employ effectively in our encounters with them.

How To Photograph Timid Fish Underwater

In freshwater environments, photographing timid fish can be an exercise in frustration. After nearly 30 years of working with subjects underwater, I’ve learned a couple of things that might help you get closer to fish and get better images.

Since freshwater fish are relatively small, you have to get extremely close to them for striking, frame-filling pictures. On the other hand, this isn’t as difficult as it may seem. Once you see a fish, you need to make a quick assessment of its potential for your photographs. If it’s swimming away, let it go. Swimming after a fish is futile and results only in pictures of tails, not the stunning full-body portraits that you’re really trying to make. You’ll want instead to concentrate on fish that are not in motion. These are the easiest fish to photograph. Once you see a fish nearby, the first thing to do is to freeze and let the fish come to you. If you remain motionless and quiet, many fish are curious enough to swim right up to you for further investigation. Any sudden movements will cause them to swim away quickly.

Remain still and allow the fish to become accustomed to your presence. After a few minutes, if the fish doesn’t approach you, and it doesn’t swim off, move in closer. Do this slowly and only a few inches at a time, pausing with each new advance. Always try to approach fish mainly from the front. Let the fish see you. Because this approach is an unnatural tactic for a predator, the fish will more likely regard you as non-threatening if you behave like this in a slow and deliberate manner. As you move in closer and closer, stop to take a few pictures. Continue to move closer while carefully watching the fish. At some point, you will go beyond the fish’s zone of acceptable comfort. This is when the fish will retreat because you’ve gotten too close. But if you move slowly, studying the fish as you approach, you’ll see the early signs from the fish that you’re getting too near. It may begin to get nervous, to turn, or move slowly away. This is where you stop. This is as close as you’re going to get to this particular fish at this time. This is where you take your close-up pictures. If you’re doing it right, you should be only one to three feet away. Your pictures at this distance will be amazing, especially in very clear water on a bright sunny day!

It’s important to keep in mind that fish vary from lake to lake and species to species. If fish in a particular lake refuse to let you approach closely, go to another lake. There are just some places where fish don’t see many divers, snorkelers or swimmers.  In waters like these, they tend to be more apprehensive. On other lakes, where fish see people with more regularity, they’re less frightened by our presence.

 One technique I often employ is called the “swim by”. That’s where you make one pass near a group of fish at a distance. Your objective here is simply to be seen. You swim by not approaching them or barely even paying them any attention. This gives them an opportunity to see and evaluate you.  Later you can return to this group. They’ll be less alarmed because they’ve seen you before and their prior experience with you wasn’t regarded as hostile.  The “swim by” helps to build some confidence in timid fish.

Don’t be disappointed if you don’t get near enough for that breath- taking close-up every time you shoot. There will be other opportunities. With time and patience, you’ll enhance your skills at this method. With experience, you’ll get within arm’s length of most fish most of the time. 

Working with Fish Models

When photographing fish underwater, the trick is to get as close you can and shoot through as little water as possible. In freshwater environments, even the clearest water has a lot of suspended material in it that will degrade picture fidelity, so getting close is paramount. This smallmouth bass was only a foot away from a camera equipped with a wide angle lens. The wider lenses are necessary so that the entire fish and some of the scene can be included in the frame. Some fill-flash from strobe lighting is added to bring out the color and fill in shadowy areas. Even on bright sunny days, ambient light underwater quickly degrades after only a few feet under the surface so supplemental lighting is always helpful. 

Smallmouth bass make excellent subjects because they tend to be very friendly and curious fish and will easily approach a diver with a camera. This is an older fish that I've worked with before as a photo model. He (or she) has somewhat of a back hump which makes him (or her) easily recognizable. I photographed this fish against a background of northern watermilfoil. Anytime you're able to include a nice background like this curtain of plants, it helps make the picture more interesting and gives the viewer a sense of the underwater habitat where these fish live.

I'm sometimes able to enlist the the same fish as a model if I've been able to establish a relationship with them.  This can occur only after many repeated encounters and a certain level of comfort develops.  While fish may never understand what we are, they know we’re not the otters they see who move with great speed and agility and should be feared. We’re probably regarded more like the way they view snapping turtles.  We're large, plodding creatures with no real underwater skills who aren’t a threat unless we get very close. 

Over time, the fish begin to notice that as we clumsily move through the water, we create a disturbance.  Unseen insects and other invertebrates that are hiding on plants or on the lake floor may be exposed or displaced and to the fish, they magically appear for them to eat.  Maybe a crayfish is suddenly seen fleeing and again a food item is summoned out of nowhere. They may begin to view us as sorcerers who can conjure up food items by our mere presence.  If they arrive at this conclusion, the entire dynamic between fish and us changes.  We become viewed as a waiter or sorts.  Instead of fearing us, we instead become something that should be paid attention to and even followed around so they’re able to snap up any treats that we may cause to appear.

Special Underwater Friendships

Steve, the Smallmouth Bass. His image has appeared dozens of times over the years in many magazines. He's likely the single most famous fish in Wisconsin.

Occasionally I’m interviewed about my underwater photography and experiences I’ve had photographing fish in freshwater environments. In today’s post, I’d like to share a portion of a recent interview I did that I think you’ll enjoy.

Question: When did you first start interacting with fresh water fishes and why? What drew you to them?

Answer: I’ve told this story many times.  I’ve loved fish for as long as I can remember.  Growing up, my father had many aquariums in the house.  As a child, I remember staring into them for hours watching the tropical fish and imagining what it would be like to be in the tanks with them. Later, I became an avid fisherman-and what fisherman doesn't wonder what it all "looks like down there".  In 1990 I moved to a home on a small lake in northern Wisconsin.  Then, a few years later came the day that changed my life.  One sunny August afternoon, I was just sitting on the deck looking at the lake.  For some reason, I noticed how clear the water was. Whether it was an epiphany sparked by the natural surroundings or a simple act of fate, I impulsively drove to a local chain store and bought a cheap swim mask, snorkel and fins. The mask leaked and the fins were too small. It was a disaster.  But once in the water I couldn’t believe the clarity and the beauty. The underwater world was radiant.  The play of light on rocks, emerald plants, sunken trees, and glowing green algae. It was an astounding realm of pure silence and unsurpassed visual delight.  And then there were the fish.  So many of them!  I was finally inside that aquarium I had fantasized about as a child.  I saw more fish that first day than I had seen all year as a fisherman.  But for the first time I saw them differently.  I saw them in their realm, relaxed and peaceful.  At home.

The mask and snorkel became my passport into a whole new world I never imagined.  It wasn’t long before my fishing rods were banished to a dusty corner in the garage and instead of looking at the new lures at the sporting goods store, I was looking at the snorkels, the wetsuits and the fins.  These were the accoutrements I was interested in now.  These were the tools that would best serve me in exploring this new world.  These were the instruments that would enable me to commune with fish in a way that I previously could scarcely imagine.  I began visiting other lakes and for me, every day became another “moon landing”-Another trip to the top of Mount Everest. Every trip under the surface was filled with awe, wonder and discovery.  I wanted to share with others the amazing things I was seeing.  In the following weeks a whole new purpose revealed itself to me and I started taking pictures.  I began to devote myself to documenting fish in their natural environment.  I wanted to show others the inherent natural beauty of these fish and the uniqueness of the freshwater environments they live in. 

Question: Can you recall or describe any very special encounters you've had?

Answer: Impossible question for me to answer.  There’s been so many.  They’ve become almost routine.  But here’s one that happened last summer that comes to mind, because it was a new one for me. There’s a lake I go to often where there’s a bass that I know and have been working with for about five years.  I call him Steve.  Every time I go to this lake it doesn’t take him long to find me.  I think he must hear my bubbles from the scuba gear.  I don’t know how far away he can hear me or how far he swims to reach me.  Sometimes it only takes him 10 minutes…. Other times it’s an hour.  Once Steve finds me, he stays with me for however long I’m in the lake, follows me everywhere, poses for pictures, and we’ve had lots of adventures together. 

So anyway, one day last summer, I went to Steve’s lake.  I looked for him as I always do, but he wasn’t around.  I was carrying two cameras that day.  My main camera for taking still photographs, and a GoPro mounted on a rack with strobes.  While it’s no problem to swim around with two camera outfits, once you start shooting, you need both your hands so you need to set one of the cameras down.  I left my main camera on the bottom in a clear spot.  You always try to leave it where it’s completely obvious.  It’s easy to lose your bearings underwater and find the exact spot you were at before, so you want to make it easily visible so you can find it again when you return.  So I leave my main camera out in plain sight on the lake floor and move down the shoreline about 200 yards to another place where I’m filming video with my GoPro.  I’m starting to get a little bummed out now because it’s been more than an hour and I haven’t yet seen Steve.  I always worry that a fisherman will catch him one of these days and… well… You get the idea. (Sigh)

So after more than an hour, I decide I’m done filming with the GoPro and now I want to take stills with my other camera.  I swim back to the place I’ve left it.  When I arrive at the spot, I see my camera just as I left it and hovering quietly next to it is Steve. 

It was a magical moment because while I know Steve recognizes me, it showed me that he also knows my camera.  After years of posing in front of it, he came to know it, with its dome port and all its knobs and buttons.  He was probably swimming by and saw it on the lake floor and recognized it.  While he didn’t know where I was, I think he knew that I set it down and that if he waited with it I would return for it.  After all, he’s witnessed me do that very thing many times.   This was an astonishing event.  I hope anyone who hears this story is amazed.  If they’re not, I need to do a better job at explaining how utterly amazing a feat this was.  It was absolutely one of the most incredible, and revealing demonstrations of fish intelligence I’ve ever seen.

Do Fish Have Individual Personalities?

Largemouth Bass (c)Engbretson Underwater Photography

I'm often asked this question and I have some definite thoughts about it.  I’ve been photographing fish underwater in their natural habitat for over 25 years.  In that time, there are long stretches when I’ve worked with the same individual fish for years at a time.  Because of that, I think I’m uniquely qualified to comment on whether they have individual personalities or not.  The answer to this is unequivocally yes.

Just like the personality distinctions one could make between say poodles and collies, distinctions between different types of fish certainly exist. And not only do entire species like northern pike, largemouth bass or bluegills have their own group personalities, but individual fish in the group have theirs too.  The individual fish and their unique personalities have as much depth and richness as the personalities of our pets. Sometimes I want to assign all the fish of one species with a label.  At first, I’ll think something like, “You know, Black Crappies seem to be a little aloof”.  But then I’ll remember one or two that I’ve met that weren’t and it makes me reluctant to paint the whole species with a broad brush.    

If you're skeptical of the idea that fish have personalities, I would say that you have to get to know them to understand that.  Very few humans have forged anything resembling a relationship with a fish.  Certainly, few people have connections with wild fish.  When you spend the enormous amounts of time I have with fish, secrets like this reveal themselves to you.

So what are some of the different personality characteristics of fish? Here are a few common species and the traits I think they demonstrate, based on decades of underwater interaction with them:
 
Largemouth Bass: Clever; Focused; Innovative   
Smallmouth Bass: Curious; Enthusiastic; Assertive;   
Walleye: Stoic; Contemplative; Organized;   
Musky: Uninhibited; Clumsy; Suspicious;
Northern Pike: Timid; Patient; Obsessive;  
Bluegill: Friendly; Daring; Active;
Carp: Alert; Decisive; Anxious