Tag Archives: Photography

Nares Glacier to Mount Drygalski Panorama

Panorama from Nares Glacier (left) to Mt. Drygalski (right) from the Atlas Cove camp.  This view spans from ESE through SSW, and is roughly 85 megapixels at full size.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY, hosted on flickr).
Panorama from Nares Glacier (left) to Mt. Drygalski (right) from the Atlas Cove camp. This view spans from ESE through SSW, and is roughly 85 megapixels at full size (28 MB). Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY, hosted on flickr).

One year ago, I was on Heard Island. Over the course of the expedition I took more than 6000 photos. Although I took three images with the Gigapan (Big Ben, the Azorella Peninsula, and—my favorite—Windy City), I also took photos for stitching together manually using my own camera.

I have been slow in stitching these pictures together, but with the one-year anniversary of their production coming around, I decided it was time to finish one or two of them. This is the first, and I hope I’ll find time to finish more. Putting it together, I was amazed that this is still a relatively wide-angle compared to what I had available: 70 mm on a 70–200 mm lens. The detail came out well, as is evident at full-size. The glaciers, moraines, and hills are all more than a kilometer distant over the “nullarbor”, a broad, flat, volcanic-sand plain.

Toward the left half of the image are some penguins for scale. They look like king penguins, putting their height around 1 meter. I count at least 31 penguins in the entire image.

I think I spot some of the relatively rare basement limestones cropping out at the very left edge of the image, and their appearance is consistent with a dip of 25–35° to the south.[1] A closer view (200 mm focal length) shows them more clearly.

Location of limestone, with annotation.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Location of limestone, with annotation. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Full-zoom on the limestone outcrop.  Bedding is clearly visible, dipping south.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Full-zoom on the limestone outcrop. Bedding is clearly visible, dipping south. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

[1] Quilty, P. G. & Wheller, G. 2000; Heard Island and The McDonald Islands: a Window into the Kerguelen Plateau. Papers and Proceedings of the Royal Society of Tasmania. 133 (2), 1–12.

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The Making of the Windy City Gigapan

Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale. The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion. The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors. Image credit: Carlos Nascimento
Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale. The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion. The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors.
Image credit: Carlos Nascimento

In my previous post, I discussed the gigapan of Windy City. However, the making of that gigapan was quite the adventure in field work.

After the Azorella Peninsula gigapan, the unit was packed up and taken back aboard the Braveheart for a trip to the southeast portion of the island. Rough north winds were expected, and with no protection afforded against those winds and swells from Atlas Cove, the ship had to move. Our expedition leader and two scientists not involved in the radio operations left camp and went to ride out the storm south of Stephenson Lagoon. At that time, it had become clear that I personally would not be able to go to Stephenson Lagoon—an area which was an extremely high priority for a gigapan image. I put fresh batteries into the gigapan mount, and sent it on its way. Sadly, in the almost four hours the team had on the shores of Stephenson Lagoon, they did not have an opportunity to take a gigapan. I’ll have to go back for that one!

Upon their return to camp, I knew since they had not attempted any gigapanning that there were fresh batteries in the unit. As the end of the expedition drew near, it was time to get the gigapan done at Windy City. Mid-morning, Carlos joined me for a trip to the outcrop (about 1.4 km each way). Although we didn’t have a bright sunny day, it was dry with a temperature around 5 °C. When we reached the outcrop and everything was set up, I turned on the gigapan mount. Nothing happened. With new batteries and a limited task, I hadn’t brought the whole kit with me. We headed back to camp, arriving in time for lunch.

Several of the rechargeable batteries I had for the gigapan had been sitting on the charger and were ready to go. I tossed those into the battery holder, put it under my arm to keep warm, and headed out with Carlos once again. At the outcrop I set up the rig again. When everything was set to go, I removed the batteries from inside my jacket, and put them into their slot. I powered it on. The LCD display brightened, but displayed an error message: Button-pusher disconnected or plugged in backwards. Cycling the power on and off didn’t fix it. Everything was as it had been before when it worked. Once again, this was a problem I was unable to deal with at the outcrop.

Back in camp, Carlos looked online for a solution while I tried to see if anything was likely to have come disconnected, although our team had been very gentle with the unit. Nothing stood out. Eventually we found online that the error is commonly caused not by a disconnected or backwards button-pusher, but by a low voltage. That made a bit more sense. Out came the volt-meter, and two sets of six AA alkaline batteries were verified to be fresh. One set went into the battery holder, the other went into a storage case. Now that it was late in the afternoon, Carlos had to report for radio duty, but Adam was willing to come with me—I needed this gigapan before the light died, as there was no guarantee that I would have the weather conditions or time to get it later.

Adam and I hurried over to the outcrop, the light already beginning to fade. I set up quickly, got the batteries out from my jacket, and set up the gigapan.

Please, light, stay with us long enough to complete this shot. Please, batteries, keep up your voltage!

It was clear from the beginning that the shot would not be truly completed. Somewhere in the middle either the light would die or the batteries would. Eventually, both did at about the same time. We quickly put everything back into the packs and headed back for camp. It was getting dark, but we arrived just in time for dinner and the start of my shift at the radio desk.

Although it was too late to be of use, I asked on Twitter what some of the other cold-weather folks had done about their gigapans. By the end of my four-hour radio shift, I had responses from @rschott and @callanbentley. Evidently this is a common problem, which is fought by insulating the gigapan unit as well as possible, and using hand/toe-warmers to add a little heat.

I think it’s time to ask Gigapan to make some design adjustments to improve the cold-weather operation of the units. It wasn’t all that cold where I was gigapanning, yet I still couldn’t get 15 minutes of operation on fresh batteries at 3–5 °C.

Windy City Gigapan

Processing the Windy City gigapan.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Processing the Windy City gigapan. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

This is the third in a series of three posts about the gigapan images taken on Heard Island (1: Big Ben, 2: Azorella Peninsula), with more information about the Windy City gigapan.

Windy City is located about 200 meters south of Atlas Cove, in the northwest portion of Heard Island. It comes from a fin of Drygalski Formation rocks, which are a mix of glacial sediments and volcanics, and is mostly surrounded by sand and gravel plains.

Looking closely at the outcrop, there are a number of interesting things to observe. First, there are the striking roughly-horizontal marks, which are particularly evident toward the base of the outcrop. Second, the outcrop is made of massive, fine-grained jointed rocks with few vesicles. Third, there are quite a few fractures within the rock, with discolorations along many of the cracks.

All of these observations combine into a remarkable tale of how Windy City has been formed. The massive, fine-grained, and jointed appearance leads to the conclusion that we are looking at a volcanic outcrop, rather than glacial sediments. Fracturing and discoloration have been brought on by weathering from the very wet, near-freezing environment. Finally, the wind has been a huge factor! Sand, gravel, snow, and graupel (ice pellets) have all been blasted against the side of this outcrop, primarily from the west (at right). On Heard Island, a 9 m/s wind is typical, with maximum recorded gusts exceeding 50 m/s on three days during the 1948-1954 period.[1] The high winds sandblast the outcrop, leading to the horizontal striations.

Here are a few wider-angle shots for context, and with better light than I ended up with for the gigapan.

Windy City outcrop, viewed from the north.  The gigapan image covers from my right arm to roughly the center of this image.  Image credit: Carlos Nascimento
Windy City outcrop, viewed from the north. The gigapan image covers from my right arm to roughly the center of this image. Image credit: Carlos Nascimento

Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale.  The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion.  The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors. Image credit: Carlos Nascimento
Looking eastward at Windy City, with a person for scale. The gigapanned portion of the outcrop is at right, but two spires of similarly eroded rock outcrop further to the north of the photographed portion. The stake coming out from the outcrop is a marker for one of our temperature/light intensity sensors.
Image credit: Carlos Nascimento

I also managed a close-up shot of one of the pieces of float.

Float rock at Windy City.  The 1:1000 metric scale at right is effectively a mm scale.  Some olive/green crystals are visible, mostly 1-5 mm in their longest dimension, which are likely olivine (possibly clinopyroxene). Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Float rock at Windy City. The 1:1000 metric scale at right is effectively a mm scale. Some olive/green crystals are visible, mostly 1-5 mm in their longest dimension, which are likely olivine (possibly clinopyroxene).
Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

[1] Thost, D., Allison, I. “The climate of Heard Island” in Heard Island: Southern Ocean Sentinel, ed by K. Green and E. Woehler. Surrey Beatty & Sons, Chipping Norton 2005, p. 52-68.

Azorella Peninsula Gigapan

Processing the Azorella Peninsula gigapan.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Processing the Azorella Peninsula gigapan. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

This is the second in a series of three posts about the gigapan images taken on Heard Island (1: Big Ben, 3: Windy City), with more information about the Azorella Peninsula gigapan.

The Azorella Peninsula is on the northern edge of the main part of Heard Island, east of the Laurens Peninsula. It forms the eastern boundary of Atlas Cove (Laurens Peninsula forms the western boundary; see map below). At the west end of the Azorella Peninsula’s southern margin is the heritage zone around the ANARE campsite, two water-tank shelters, a green “apple” shelter, and the area where our expedition made camp. That many of the camps are all in the same area is no accident: Atlas Cove is probably the best harbor on the island (though still not sheltered from a northerly swell), there is a convenient beach for boat landings, and a small step up of elevation from the lava flows of the Azorella Peninsula provides higher ground than the sometimes-inundated Nullarbor.

Heard Island Map, 1985. Image credit: excerpt from the Division of National Mapping.
Heard Island Map, 1985. Image credit: excerpt from the Division of National Mapping.

Getting a gigapan here was not as straightforward as I had hoped. Although there were plenty of pahoehoe flow tops, cracks where a flow had deflated and collapsed in on itself, and other lava flow features, few of them were of a scale and in a location which enabled them to be nicely gigapanned with the tripod I had. With another 3–5 m of elevation, the gigapan would be spectacular.

As it was, there were some additional features besides the lava flows which I wanted to include. For one, the landscape has significant erosional processes happening, and there are sandy areas which get washed when it rains. Even more than the rain, though, the wind creates eolian features. Many of the small rocks have a little dune in their lee, and often the Kerguelen cabbage and Azorella moss grow on the leeward side of rock barriers as well. Some of this organization is visible in the gigapan.

At the top right of the Gigapan image, and lost to the fog and overexposure of the image, is a strongly layered prominence: Corinth Head. Although I would have liked to go see this outcrop up close, our permit did not allow that—the area is a major nesting site for burrowing seabirds, and in places there are lava tubes with thin ceilings which may give way underfoot.

Corinth Head, Heard Island, viewed from the south (further east than the Gigapan was taken).  Layering is clearly visible, and is likely of igneous origin.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Corinth Head, Heard Island, viewed from the south (further east than the Gigapan was taken). Layering is clearly visible, and is likely of igneous origin. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Where the Azorella Peninsula lava flow field meets the Nullarbor, there was a little flow which caught my eye. There, one flow clearly traveled through an older channel or tube. Weathering has removed some of the older flow, giving a cross-sectional view of the dark vesicular rock.

Lava flows of the Azorella Peninsula meet the Nullarbor.  An older, grey unit is visible with a redder unit in the middle.  Notebook is 19 cm wide.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Lava flows of the Azorella Peninsula meet the Nullarbor. An older, grey unit is visible with a redder unit in the middle. Notebook is 19 cm wide. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Some lava tubes showed obvious signs of deflation or lava tube collapse. The one seen below had eolian features nearby, and the Kerguelen cabbage and Azorella moss can be seen growing on the leeward side of the rocks. An elephant seal is also present.

Deflated lava flow beside the Nullarbor on the Azorella Peninsula, Heard Island.  Some eolian features are present.  Note the Azorella moss and Kerguelen cabbage at right, in the lee of the solid rocks.  The tan mass at right is an elephant seal.  Notebook is 12x19 cm.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Deflated lava flow beside the Nullarbor on the Azorella Peninsula, Heard Island. Some eolian features are present. Note the Azorella moss and Kerguelen cabbage at right, in the lee of the solid rocks. The tan mass at right is an elephant seal. Notebook is 12×19 cm. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Finally, here is another example of a collapsed lava tube, which shows off a cross-section of the top of the lava tube as well as some pahoehoe flow tops.

A collapsed lava tube on the Azorella Peninsula, Heard Island, gives a cross-sectional view of the roof of the lava tube.  Kerguelen cabbage plants in foreground are roughly 25 cm across.  Several pahoehoe flow tops are visible: small-scale in the foreground, and large-scale in the center toward the top of the image.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
A collapsed lava tube on the Azorella Peninsula, Heard Island, gives a cross-sectional view of the roof of the lava tube. Kerguelen cabbage plants in foreground are roughly 25 cm across. Several pahoehoe flow tops are visible: small-scale in the foreground, and large-scale in the center toward the top of the image. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Big Ben Gigapan

Processing the Big Ben gigapan.  Screenshot by Bill Mitchell.
Processing the Big Ben gigapan. Screenshot by Bill Mitchell.

This post is the first in a series of three on the gigapans I took on Heard Island. (Part 2, Part 3)

My first gigapan on Heard Island, this one of Big Ben, came unexpectedly. As I was out hiking one afternoon, my hiking partner, Arliss, noticed that we had a clear view of the summit of Big Ben. Clearings like this can be relatively short and infrequent, so we took a few pictures immediately. We headed back to base camp just east of Atlas Cove, arriving under an hour before sunset. The mountain was still visible, so I moved quickly to set everything up and get the gigapan taken before the light faded.

From camp, Big Ben is situated to the southeast, rising up beyond the flat sandy plain of the nullarbor. In this view, the moraines and glaciers begin about 2 km from the camera. To the right of the image is the eastern slope of Mt. Drygalski. The edge of the Azorella Peninsula lava flow is in the bottom left corner.

Glacial features dominate the landscape, including a prominent moraine now covered in vegetation (lower right). Coming toward the camera are the Schmidt and Baudissin glaciers. I think this view covers from the Allison and Vahsel glaciers (at right) to the Ealey glacier (at left).

On the Nullarbor, there are a few king penguins and elephant seals, primarily to the left of center.

Big Ben itself has a range of rock types, including basanites, alkali basalts, and trachybasalts, overlying limestones and volcanic/glacial deposits.[1-4]

[1] Quilty, P. G.; Wheller, G. (2000) Heard Island and The McDonald Islands: a Window into the Kerguelen Plateau. Papers and Proceedings of the Royal Society of Tasmania. 133 (2), 1–12.

[2] Barling, J.; Goldstein, S. L. (1990) Extreme isotopic variations in Heard Island lavas and the nature of mantle reservoirs. Nature 348:59–62, doi 10.1038/348059a0.

[3] Barling, J.; Goldstein, S. L.; Nicholls, I. A. (1994) Geochemistry of Heard Island (Southern Indian Ocean): Characterization of an Enriched Mantle Component and Implications for Enrichment of the Sub-Indian Ocean Mantle. Journal of Petrology 35:1017–1053, doi 10.1093/petrology/35.4.1017.

[4] Stephenson, J.; Barling, J.; Wheller, G.; Clarke, I. “The geology and volcanic geomorphology of Heard Island”, in Heard Island: Southern Ocean Sentinel (Eds K. Green and E. Woehler) Surrey Beatey & Sons, 2006, p. 10–27.

Pictures from the Field

Standing just outside the tents at Atlas Cove, Heard Island, on a clear evening.  Note that there is no incandescence from lava on Mawson Peak.  Image credit: Adam Brown.
Standing just outside the tents at Atlas Cove, Heard Island, on a clear evening. Note that there is no incandescence from lava on Mawson Peak. Image credit: Adam Brown.

A few days have gone by, and they have been busy! We’ve been fortunate in that when the weather has been poor, the radio propagation has been good. A fair bit of windy, drizzly weather has been present this week, and we have managed to make more than 50,000 contacts with stations all around the world.

Unfortunately, the weather has meant I haven’t had the opportunity to take more gigapans. I am prepared for wet weather, and this morning I went a few hundred meters across the lake which had formed in front of camp (ankle deep) to Wharf Point, the point inside Atlas Cove. There on the cobbles lining the beach I did a stationary count of the birds in the hummocks nearby, on the water, and along the beach. It took about 10 minutes, and I managed to get the list recorded in a weatherproof notebook for upload later. Getting out of the tent and away from things for a while was a welcome change.

Inside the operating tent are many tables with radio equipment.  We have six stations set up, two of which are outside the frame to the left.  The galley is just barely showing on the right, and I'm standing in the front door.  The sleeping tent is through a little hallway.  From left to right, by leftmost extent of the head, we have Adam, Dave Lloyd, Jim, Vadym, Ken, Arliss, and Hans-Peter.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY)
Inside the operating tent are many tables with radio equipment. We have six stations set up, two of which are outside the frame to the left. The galley is just barely showing on the right, and I’m standing in the front door. The sleeping tent is through a little hallway. From left to right, by leftmost extent of the head, we have Adam, Dave Lloyd, Jim, Vadym, Ken, Arliss, and Hans-Peter. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
The sleeping tent, which sleeps 14.  Although there are windows, they are kept shuttered all day.  It's a good place to sleep, but not particularly warm.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
The sleeping tent, which sleeps 14. Although there are windows, they are kept shuttered all day. It’s a good place to sleep, but not particularly warm. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

One thing which has been abundantly clear on this expedition is that if you want to do something that depends on the weather, be prepared to do it. The weather can shift very rapidly (especially if it’s permissive weather), so “I’ll just wait until later” often won’t cut it. If you see Big Ben and want a photograph of it, get your camera and shoot. There may not be another chance. This evening I didn’t immediately take a picture when there was a clear, starry sky. I at least saw the starry sky, but did not get the photograph. With only a bit more than a week to go, I hope I can still get that picture.

In the afternoon a few days ago, the weather cleared enough to get a view of Mawson Peak atop Big Ben. I quickly grabbed the camera, put on the telephoto lens, and got a few pictures of the summit. Indeed, there was a small plume indicating (at minimum) hydrothermal activity or venting, but possibly a small active lava flow.

Mawson Peak with a small plume indicating volcanic activity.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Mawson Peak with a small plume indicating volcanic activity. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Heard Island’s mood changes with the weather, and the effect that has on the landscape can be quite striking. The picture at the top of this post and the one immediately below are taken in pretty similar places looking in similar directions. What a difference the weather makes!

Antenna Lake, Atlas Cove, Heard Island.  Rain fell fast enough to flood much of the low-lying volcanic sand plain near our camp.  We were glad not to have camped there, and the antennas still worked.  It looks quite other-worldly, with the dark, broken lava flows and fog concealing the mountain.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Antenna Lake, Atlas Cove, Heard Island. Rain fell fast enough to flood much of the low-lying volcanic sand plain near our camp. We were glad not to have camped there, and the antennas still worked. It looks quite other-worldly, with the dark, broken lava flows and fog concealing the mountain. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Camp seen on a rainy, dreary day typical of Heard Island.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Camp seen on a rainy, dreary day typical of Heard Island. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Finally, the king penguins make tracks as they walk around on the wet sandy ground.

King penguin tracks in the sand of the nullarbor, Heard Island.  Each track is roughly 8 cm in length.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
King penguin tracks in the sand of the nullarbor, Heard Island. Each track is roughly 8 cm in length. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Pictures!

Gentoo penguins, surf, and glaciers at Corinthian Bay, Heard Island.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Gentoo penguins, surf, and glaciers at Corinthian Bay, Heard Island. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).

Heard Island is a pretty magical and dramatic place. I’ve been very busy with my IT duties, radio duties, and general camp upkeep. However, I’ve managed to take a few pictures in spare moments, and the highlights are posted here.

First glimpses of the Laurens Peninsula, Heard Island, after twelve days at sea.  As this image was taken, our ship was being welcomed by large numbers of birds, particularly albatrosses.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
First glimpses of the Laurens Peninsula, Heard Island, after twelve days at sea. As this image was taken, our ship was being welcomed by large numbers of birds, particularly albatrosses. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
A Heard Island cormorant flies in front of the Laurens Peninsula, Heard Island.  A tall waterfall can be seen cascading down the cliff.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
A Heard Island cormorant flies in front of the Laurens Peninsula, Heard Island. A tall waterfall can be seen cascading down the cliff. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
A southern giant petrel, one of the more commonly seen birds over Atlas Cove.  This individual is a juvenile, with a wingspan nearing 2 meters.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
A southern giant petrel, one of the more commonly seen birds over Atlas Cove. This individual is a juvenile, with a wingspan nearing 2 meters. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
King penguins at Corinthian Bay, Heard Island, are caught in a very dusty squall.  High winds over the nullabor, a large, flat expanse of volcanic sand, bring lots of grit with them, and are strong enough to make walking difficult.  On the other side of the bay, glaciers flow down the flanks of Big Ben.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
King penguins at Corinthian Bay, Heard Island, are caught in a very dusty squall. High winds over the nullabor, a large, flat expanse of volcanic sand, bring lots of grit with them, and are strong enough to make walking difficult. On the other side of the bay, glaciers flow down the flanks of Big Ben. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Big Ben seen in twilight from Atlas Cove.  On unusually clear nights such as this one, the summit of the volcano can be seen from sea level.  Under ordinary circumstances, the low clouds would be too thick to see up more than 1000-2000 feet.  Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).
Big Ben seen in twilight from Atlas Cove. On unusually clear nights such as this one, the summit of the volcano can be seen from sea level. Under ordinary circumstances, the low clouds would be too thick to see up more than 1000-2000 feet. Image credit: Bill Mitchell (CC-BY).