junio 3, 2024 Texto por Stephen Frink; fotos y pie de fotos de RICHARD SMITH
Buzo y tiburón ballena (bahía Cenderawasih, Indonesia): Suelo evitar incluir a buzos en mis imágenes, ya que, en cambio, prefiero capturar a un animal en su entorno natural. El problema con eso es representar la escala. Nuestro grupo estaba haciendo snorkel cuando uno de los miembros decidió bucear con aire comprimido, lo que fue un punto de interés para los tiburones ballena. En varias ocasiones, uno de los tiburones ballena pasó cerca de él bajo la luz de la mañana, lo que me permitió capturar esta imagen.
La sinergia de la ciencia y el arte
En el capítulo inicial de The World Beneath: The Life and Times of Unknown Sea Creatures and Coral Reefs, (El mundo debajo: la vida y obra de arrecifes de coral y criaturas marinas desconocidas), su aclamada combinación de libro ilustrado y guía de referencia de arrecifes de coral, Richard Smith, PhD, recuerda sus seis meses de buceo desde la costa e investigación en 2007 en los arrecifes de Wakatobi, Indonesia. Ese viaje se convirtió en el primer doctorado otorgado por su investigación sobre caballitos de mar pigmeos.
The Denise’s pygmy seahorse was his singular focus for that project. He spent months “watching and recording the antics of these mysterious and diminutive fish.” His observations of their social and reproductive behaviors were the first recorded examples of what he said has “presumably been happening for millennia. We just didn’t know how to look.” Searching for pygmy seahorses and other reef dwellers, describing them for science, and recording them at the highest level of photographic art is what Smith does so very well.
The World Beneath will soon have its second edition, and the original 2019 version is the No. 1 bestseller in Amazon’s Coral Reefs Ecosystems category. It all began in his family’s garden in the Cotswolds, England. As a child, Smith was crazy for bugs or any kind of terrestrial wildlife. He learned to dive at 16 as a shared hobby with his father. It might be overstating their early years diving British quarries in a drysuit to call them adventures, but that would come on a 1996 Australia dive holiday with his dad.
The Great Barrier Reef was a wondrous revelation, but Smith still had his university education to navigate. His goal was to be a zoologist and end up in a rainforest somewhere. During a gap year at age 18, he spent four months on a marine conservation project in Southeast Sulawesi, Indonesia. The reef minutiae — nudibranchs in particular — intrigued him from the outset, and he began taking identification pictures of them after discovering how tedious and inaccurate it was to draw on an underwater slate. An honors thesis on the rocky shore intertidal zone for his zoology undergraduate degree was his first foray into marine science.
Bartlett’s anthias (Mapia Island, Indonesia): My dive partner, Wendy Brown, and I lead group trips to far-flung locations in search of interesting species and diving. We have discovered new species and captured images of species never photographed alive. On this trip we extended the known geographic range of a species. We were at Mapia Island, an outpost of two islands on an atoll 100 nautical miles north of Papua. This wilderness harbors healthy exposed reefs and animals you rarely see elsewhere. I came across this small group of Bartlett’s anthias, which are ordinarily found much father east in the South Pacific and nowhere else in Indonesian waters.
Biofluorescent xeno crab on gorgonian (Wakatobi, Indonesia): I like to take images that illustrate a particular behavior or species. In this case I used various lights and filters to capture biofluorescence. It is possible to see animals that reflect light in a particular wavelength using special flashlights, lens filters, and a filter over your mask. I was testing an assertion that pygmy seahorses biofluoresce. If pygmies effectively glowed in the dark, it would make future population estimates much easier. I can now confirm that they don’t biofluoresce, but I captured this crab living on a gorgonian.
Sabiendo que sus estudios avanzados debían ser en el océano, consideró si debía permanecer en Inglaterra y estudiar sobre las algas o asistir a la Universidad de Queensland (University of Queensland) en Brisbane, Australia, donde aprendería la dinámica del arrecife de coral. Fue una decisión fácil y Smith pronto se unió a un club de buceo local en Brisbane y encontró a su gente.
Durante un viaje en una embarcación de vida a bordo en 2002, tuvo una epifanía cuando vio su primer caballito de mar pigmeo. Para el año 2018 había identificado una nueva especie, Hippocampus japapigu, in Japan’s temperate waters; in 2020 he described the first pygmy seahorse from the Indian Ocean: the South African Hippocampusnalu.
Feeding whale shark (Cenderawasih Bay, Indonesia): While everyone else returned to the boat for a well-earned breakfast, I couldn’t tear myself away from snorkeling with several whale sharks still hanging around. Suddenly, I felt quite exposed as the only person in the water with these huge fish, despite them being harmless. The whale sharks and I soon settled, and they began to make close passes to check me out. Being away from a large group of people is often less intimidating for wildlife and opens the door for incredible interactions. I took this shot with a fisheye lens, and it isn’t cropped, showing how close this incredible animal got during this encounter.
Miracielos biofluorescente (Wakatobi, Indonesia) Bucear con el equipo necesario para fotografiar criaturas biofluorescentes puede ser desconcertante y engorroso. Después de buscar caballitos de mar pigmeos, me trasladé a la arena abierta, donde la maniobrabilidad era más fácil. Vi a un miracielos escondido debajo de la arena, con todo el cuerpo oculto y solo los ojos y la mandíbula similar a una pinza sobresaliendo. He visto a estos depredadores de emboscada utilizar su lengua como señuelo para atraer aún más a los peces, pero este simplemente holgazaneaba de forma amenazadora. No tenía idea de que los miracielos serían biofluorescentes, pero resultó ser una imagen maravillosa.
Jóvenes cardenales de Banggai (estrecho de Lembeh, Indonesia) Los cardenales de Banggai pueden encontrarse cerca de algunas islas pequeñas en el centro de Indonesia, pero en las últimas décadas han aparecido en algunos otros lugares de Indonesia, incluso el estrecho de Lembeh. Su alcance es naturalmente pequeño porque los machos incuban los huevos en sus bocas al igual que otros cardenales. No obstante, a diferencia de sus parientes, continúan incubando a sus crías durante dos semanas después de su nacimiento, mientras que las otras especies escupen a los pececillos en cuanto nacen, quienes son arrastrados por las corrientes hacia otros arrecifes. Estos dos pequeños peces, recién lanzados al mundo por su padre, estaban buscando refugio entre las espinas de un erizo venenoso.
Sepias extravagantes apareándose (Ambon, Indonesia) Me encanta observar comportamientos, así que cuando vi a esta sepia extravagante que actuaba de manera extraña durante un buceo en Ambon, decidí mirarla. La pequeña sepia colorida era un macho, y enseguida divisé a una enorme hembra deslucida que estaba cerca. Durante la siguiente hora los observé apareándose y luego vi a la hembra extenderse bajo una roca y colocar cuidadosamente un único huevo grande antes de volver a aparearse y repetir el ciclo. Si bien los cefalópodos no están estrictamente dentro de mi campo, tuve el placer de que se me pidiera incluir esta imagen en la publicación científica donde se describió el comportamiento reproductivo de las sepias extravagantes por primera vez.
He recorded all the observations for his doctorate on an A4 waterproof slate while immersed at Wakatobi’s shallow, vibrant house reef multiple hours a day for months at a time. After realizing there was a world beyond the confines of a coffee-table-sized sea fan, he began writing articles for Asian Diver y publicaciones de buceo australianas y posteriormente fue el orador principal en la exposición Asian Dive Exposition para su año del caballito de mar.
Courting Pontoh’s pygmy seahorses (Wakatobi, Indonesia): On the way back to the jetty exit point during my fieldwork on the Wakatobi reef, I would always do my safety stop in a little gully, where I got to know the resident creatures. Spending so long visiting the same tiny patch of reef was one of my favorite aspects of this work. I could set my clock by the mating dragonets, I befriended a usually skittish paddletail snapper that would rest a foot from me, and I found all manner of unexpected critters that would occasionally emerge from the reef. A pair of Pontoh’s pygmy seahorses courted every morning and evening as part of their reproductive cycle. On this occasion, the female (closest to the camera) was full of eggs that she was ready to transfer to the pregnant male behind.
Displaying Alfian’s flasher wrasse (Alor, Indonesia): I was diving in a remote corner of eastern Indonesia with my longtime friend and guide, Yann Alfian, and the incredible naturalists and conservationists Ned and Anna DeLoach. We moved quickly along the gentle slope until Anna headed for a bommie just off the main reef. Very short, branching corals covered the saddle. Anna suddenly started pointing excitedly at a few flashers that were displaying above the corals. We could immediately see they were different from anything we had seen before. The brightly colored males stood out, with scarlet rounded fins and yellow, blue, and golden streaks throughout their bodies. We all watched in awe before getting down to the important work of capturing an image. A year or so later, per Anna’s request to ichthyologist Gerry Allen, the new species was named Alfian’s flasher wrasse.
La fotografía se volvió una parte cada vez mayor de su trabajo una vez que se dio cuenta de que tenía una historia que contar sobre vida marina específica y dónde vivían estas criaturas. La fotografía submarina fue su punto partida para la comunicación.
¿Cómo inició su travesía hacia la fotografía submarina?
My dad started taking pictures underwater before I did. He was a rally driving champion and felt diving was a bit too mundane, so he added underwater photography to his task load. For me it was more about finding things I couldn’t identify. I logged 500 dives before I took my first photo, using a very basic film camera (a Sea and Sea Motormarine 35). Small things drew me in, and the macro capability was not good enough, so I migrated to a housed Nikon F90 (called N90 in the U.S.) film camera. The 105mm Micro-Nikkor lens transformed my vision.
Magenta dottyback with pair of isopod parasites (Halmahera, Indonesia): Parasites and their biology fascinate me. It blows my mind that each species on Earth is believed to have its own unique parasites. I have found many parasites that are completely new to science, but requests from researchers for me to collect them and the fish they are attached to haven’t been helpful, especially when the parasite is living in the nostrils of a 2-foot-long crocodilefish. I have only seen magenta dottybacks with these isopods in Halmahera, Indonesia, where probably one-third of the dottybacks had these nefarious hitchhikers. Parasites such as these are unlikely to kill their host but are fueled by feeding on the hapless fish’s blood.
¿Cuándo pasó al formato digital para la fotografía submarina y cuál es el arsenal de equipo que utiliza en la actualidad?
I didn’t move to digital until 2007. For many of the things I had been shooting, 36 exposures were enough. That’s not to say I’m unhappy with more, but I was not frantic about trying a new technology just for that. Even with digital, I don’t bother downloading every day.
One thing I absolutely embraced was accurate autofocus in low light. I don’t use a focus light because I don’t want to disturb the creatures in any way. With the Nauticam housing, Nikon D850, and 105mm macro lens I use now, I can stay a respectful distance away. I always travel with a wide-angle lens and dome port but rarely dive with them. I’m a creature of habit, and my habit is reef minutiae.
Birthing Denise’s pygmy seahorse (Wakatobi, Indonesia): During my research at the Wakatobi house reef, I worked out the male Denise’s pygmy seahorse gestation period and could be in the water exactly when they were due. This period helped me hone my macro photography skills, as I needed to capture behaviors without disturbing the animals or damaging the reef. I took notes on my A4 waterproof slate and then snapped a couple of images for my records before returning to note-taking. Watching the lives of these tiny fish play out was one of the most memorable times of my diving and scientific careers.
Muchas veces realizamos tours fotográficos en muchos de los mismos lugares. ¿Eso es una parte importante de su vida ahora?
Absolutely. I’ve been running dive and photo expeditions for more than a decade with Wendy Brown, a dear friend who was one of my divemasters in those early years at Wakatobi. We choose a particular liveaboard or land-based resort that gives us access to some weird creature I’m obsessed about. I lecture on marine life and share science and photo tips with our guests. Our schedule these days is three trips a year with back-to-back departures.
Pair of leopard anemone shrimp (Raja Ampat, Indonesia): I had searched for leopard anemone shrimp for years, but the species has rarely been spotted across a wider geographic range than its origins in Japan. I was puttering along the reef in Raja Ampat’s Aljui Bay at 100 feet (30 meters), which is unusually deep for me. An anemone the size of my thumb from the tip to the joint was growing parasitically on a whip coral. I first spotted the large female shrimp and then the male. Their camouflage was incredible. I’ve seen these shrimp only a handful of times since then, so this encounter was an unexpected treasure.
Yo conozco su profundo respeto por sus sujetos fotográficos. ¿Puede compartir parte de su sabiduría sobre su enfoque para fotografiar criaturas de arrecife pequeñas y enigmáticas?
I’m happy to share what works for me. I use a Nikon 105mm macro lens, which allows me a little extra distance from the subject to avoid disturbing it. I chose my camera for its good lowlight autofocus capabilities. I don’t use a focus light (aside from a very weak one for night diving) because they often scare a subject, which is the last thing you want when aiming for behavior shots. You could try a red light, because some marine creatures don’t see those wavelengths, but that works only on certain subjects.
Sometimes there simply isn’t anywhere to place a stabilizing finger, so good buoyancy control is critical. I never use a pointer stick or ask a guide to poke an animal or hunt through its habitat to find it. Unhappy animals make poor photographic subjects.
I hate stressing nocturnal animals and don’t shoot diurnal animals on night dives. It’s best to approach your subject like you would a nervous horse: quietly, calmly, and confidently without surprising it.
Lenguado tropical comiendo un pulpo de anillos azules (Wakatobi, Indonesia) Durante una visita a Wakatobi en 2005, pregunté sobre un pulpo de anillos azules que había visto en una foto tomada allí, pero los guías me dijeron que eran extremadamente raros. Había registrado casi 1.000 buceos y nunca había visto uno de estos icónicos cefalópodos. Pensando que el amanecer sería el mejor momento para buscar en el área de la laguna poco profunda junto al embarcadero, fui todos los días a las 6 de la mañana. El último día antes de irme, finalmente vi uno nadando en el medio de la columna de agua y exhibiendo todos sus anillos azules iridiscentes. De pronto un lenguado salió nadando del fondo y se comió al pulpo en su totalidad. A continuación, escupió al pulpo y luego se lo volvió a comer. Quedé sorprendido al ver esta acción desarrollándose ante mí y rápidamente capturé esta imagen con una película de diapositiva. Observé al lenguado por 20 minutos, pero no tuvo ningún efecto secundario negativo aparente después de su comida.
Explore más
Vea a Richard Smith hablar sobre su libro, The World Beneath, en este video y vea más de sus imágenes en esta galería de fotos complementaria.
