Cape Hatteras National Seashore

The treacherous waters of the Atlantic Ocean off the Outer Banks have a nickname of the Graveyard of Atlantic. Many vessels found their end here, and remnants of some are still visible to those on the shore. Ocean Pursuit, a scallop harvesting boat, ran aground during a storm on March 1, 2020, about fifty yards from shore near Oregon Inlet. The Coast Guard airlifted the crew to safety, then oversaw the removal of fuel and other hazardous materials in the following days. Since then, however, the surf has driven the vessel to a remote section of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, where stayed stranded in the surf and filling with sand.

I made several exposures with the sunset reflection of the lighthouse that evening. My primary composition repeated the photograph from the morning of the same day. The digital version worked well, as I knew how to set up the camera and the lens. But my film camera offers a somewhat different view on things, and the result was not exactly what I wanted. Therefore I walked around and found another angle, that provided almost perfect reflection and good visual separation of the keeper's house and the tower itself. I set up everything just in time, to capture the fading light.

On the third day of my spring trip to Outer Banks, the weather rewarded me with a calm ocean, subtile wind, and a patch of clouds on the East. Photographing this morning landscape was a fun task as I have little experience of working with such dynamic scenes. The water was changing the foreground every second, and I had to guess what will happen next and quickly set up my tripod in the proper place. Eventually, the ocean scattered a generous amount of water on the sand in front of me, creating a foreground interest I wanted.

I found this location during my previous visit to Outer Banks and decided to stop here for the sunset. The sky was clear, and the light grew warmer, painting the grass in orange. I found a piece of driftwood on the shore and used it as a foreground for my composition. A few minutes later the sun sank very close to the horizon and illuminated the scene with its gold light that stood out even more on the blue background of the sky and waters of the Pamlico Sound.

That day I set my tent at Frisco Campground and sat at the picnic table with satellite pictures, looking for an attractive sunset location. I quickly spotted a pier nearby and thought that this is what I have never photographed before. Upon getting there I discovered nothing but a few piles, sticking out from the water. Only days later I learned that the Cape Hatteras Fishing Pier, also known as the Frisco Pier, was torn down almost a year ago. I was too late. Nevertheless, the place was so quiet and peaceful that I set my camera to capture this simple, almost abstract, scene of the Remnants of the Cape Hatteras Pier.

While visiting Cape Hatteras, I had an idea to photograph a scene that would present a human element and the ocean. My hope to find something suitable was faint, as I did not know the area and had limited time to do proper research. Fortunately, I stepped on the beach not far away from this location, and it served me a great job in capturing this marvelous light.

Seeing the first morning light is an incredible experience. The colors in the sky are so vivid and pure. I was standing on a shore of the Atlantic Ocean, enjoying such view when noticed the reflection of the clouds in wet sand, smoothed by receding water. Deep orange in the sky was amplified even more by the dark surface of the beach, making the whole scene gorgeous.

My hopes for a good sunset light were futile. The sky at the West was blocked by low, almost featureless clouds. It appeared that coming to the Haulover Day Use Area was a fruitless venture. But I spotted an old pile, a remnant of a pier or something of that kind. My imagination quickly drew an abstract photograph, that I captured with the help of two-minutes exposure.

This is my favorite capture from "The Outer Banks Sand" mini-series that I photographed in spring 2019. The placement of two shells, the light and the texture of the sand were perfect. The title of the photograph came to my mind instantly. It is a bit humorous, but I cannot find a better one: "And Its Little Friend".

There is not much to say about the reasons I captured this image. The view was simply too attractive to not being photographed. The sun was already above the horizon, but the lighthouse still operated in its night mode. I expected it to switch off every second, and miss the opportunity to capture the next flash from its lantern, on the background pink hue of the Belt of Venus. Unfortunately, in the hustle of making the exposure, I paid little attention to the composition. The unbalanced image did not appeal to me, and I left it unattended for more than a year before finally achieved the result I wanted.

I photographed this sunset during my spring trip to Outer Banks. The sky was almost clear with just a few hight-elevation clouds, so I had to wait the sun to drop very low and illuminate the ripples in the water. A piece of driftwood anchored the composition at the bottom.