Show Navigation

Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

  • Portfolio
  • About
  • Contact
  • Blog
  • Testimonials
  • Facebook
  • Archive
    • All Galleries
    • Search
    • Cart
    • Lightbox
    • Client Area

Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

Search Results

47 images

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
x
Refine Search
Match all words
Match any word
Prints
Personal Use
Royalty-Free
Rights-Managed
(leave unchecked to
search all images)

Loading ()...

  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture11.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture31.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture14.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture34.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture27.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events66.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture6.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture37.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture35.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture33.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture16.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture3.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture22.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture13.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture7.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture21.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture2.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture29.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture28.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture25.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture1.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture19.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture17.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture36.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture32.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture30.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture26.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture4.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-agriculture15.jpg
  • This photo was taken by one of the leading humpback whale researchers in Southeast Alaska at the time, Cynthia D’Vincent. She was actually working with a film crew at the time who were making an IMAX film. We had a lot of encounters during the filming and she pointed out that I was getting into "rather too many" of their shots, and politely asked me if I could try to avoid doing that. I was getting fed up with having to breathe in the exhaust fumes from their fast boats, whilst I was left rocking in their wake. I continued to work in my usual low impact fashion, but eventually they got all of the shots that they needed and I was thanked for obliging with her request, and I was rewarded with a bottle of wine. <br />
The unusual lighting, and atmospheric conditions at sunset, was a result of an extensive forest fire in the Yukon Territory hundreds of miles away to the northeast.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking26.jpg
  • I became involved with the campaign to stop the excessive and heavily-subsidised logging, clearcutting and roadbuilding in Southeast Alaska in the 1980s. The Tongass Timber Reform Act, enacted in 1990, significantly reshaped the logging industry's relationship with the Tongass National Forest. The law's provisions cancelled a $40 million annual subsidy for timber harvest; established several new wilderness areas and closed others to logging; and required that future cutting under the 50-year pulp contracts be subject to environmental review and limitations on old-growth harvest. Alaska Pulp Corporation and Ketchikan Pulp Corporation claimed that the new restrictions made them uncompetitive and closed down their mills in 1993 and 1997, respectively, and the Forest Service then cancelled the remainders of the two 50-year timber contracts<br />
Unfortunately it is under threat once again. The Forest Service is currently preparing its largest auction of the Tongass in a decade to logging companies. In nearly six decades, loggers have cleared more than 700 square miles of the Tongass. Furthermore, the Forest Service has bulldozed more than 4,500 miles of roads through the forest for the logging companies to use.<br />
Legislation working its way through Congress could allow a single corporation, Sealaska, to log some of the best, oldest, most biologically-rich areas left in the Tongass. Sealaska Corporation, which has a history of clearcutting its lands, is seeking ownership of some of the most ecologically and biologically diverse parts of the Tongass National Forest. In fact, the lands targeted by Sealaska have more than ten times the habitat value of other Tongass forest land. Ketchikan lumber mill applied and was granted access to clear-cut 381 acres in one of the Tongass’ pristine roadless areas.
    Alaska-Tongass-National-Forest1.jpg
  • I often used to creep up close to the sea lions hauled out on Yasha Island, just off Point Gardiner at the southern end of Admiralty Island. I could see this young sea lion laying down on its belly, and that it had something around its neck, but nothing could have prepared me for the gut-wrenching sight when it reared up and I could see the full extent of the damage and suffering that this poor creature must have endured. The net had become deeply embedded in its throat as it had continued to grow after first getting entangled with it when it was probably playing with it. One strand of the net passed through its mouth like a horse's bit, and had pulled its mouth back into a horrific frozen grimace. I felt so sickened by the daily torture that this poor animal must have been subjected to, but it also seemed like it had somehow adapted to it demonstrating the incredible resilience of wild animals. Apart from its horrific embedded necklace it looked just as well fed and healthy as the other sea lions. I felt compelled to try to capture it without really knowing how I could hang onto the sea lion to remove the net, but I wasn't able to get close enough without disturbing all of the sea lions. When I returned to Petersburg I reported it to the Dept of Fish and Game, and was glad to hear that they were going there to do a survey, but unfortunately I later heard that they were unable to find the poor animal. I don't know how much longer that it would have been able to survive like this if it was still growing.<br />
This kind of entanglement in fishing nets is a major problem for all marine life, but it must be particularly so for sea lions because they are so inquisitive and playful. A few years later I was working on a whale research boat in Sri Lanka, and we came across two turtles entangled in a big clump of fishing net, but fortunately we were able to free them.
    Alaska-Steller-sealion10.jpg
  • These two humpback whales were members of a cooperative feeding group using bubble nets to herd and catch shoals of herring. There are submerged reefs in this area that they were working for a while, and it is most likely that they were breaching to create panic and shock waves to herd the herring against the reef and shoreline. I witnessed this behaviour several times with cooperative feeding pods when some of them either breached or lobtailed in unison in strategic locations to herd the shoal of herring into a bay, against a shoreline or submerged reef. I once witnessed five whales breaching simultaneously. It's incredible how they manage to coordinate their breaching over distance: another example of their highly developed social behaviour and communication.
    Alaska-humpback-whale-breach3.jpg
  • Duncan Murrell photographing humpback whales in his Nautiraid double folding kayak at Point Hayes, Chichagof Island, Southeast Alaska, USA. Photo courtesy of Francois Gohier.<br />
<br />
After many years of good service from my ageing Klepper Aerius 1 folding kayak, I invested in a new French Nautiraid double folding kayak, which gave me more carrying capacity and a larger, more comfortable cockpit to work in, but it also meant more effort to paddle it. It was much easier to pack than my old kayak and it was also incredibly stable even in rough sea conditions. It is designed to be used as a small double kayak that can also be paddled solo.<br />
This photo was taken by fellow whale photographer Francois Gohier from France. I had been familiar with his work for a long time as one of the most published whale photographers. He was shooting from a boat at one of my regular locations and camp sites, where the whales often perform bubble net feeding. He was kind enough to send me some of the photos that he took of me and commented, “You really know how to do things the hard way!” I couldn’t disagree with that comment because that’s my style, and even to this day I still do things the hard way because it’s the only way that I know how to be.
    Whaleman-8.tif
  • After many years of good service from my ageing Klepper Aerius 1 folding kayak, I invested in a new French Nautiraid Raid double folding kayak, which is a small double that is very adaptable to paddle as a solo kayak. It gave me more carrying capacity and a larger, more comfortable cockpit to work from and move around in, but such a large beamy kayak required more effort to paddle it. It was much easier to pack than my old kayak and it was also incredibly stable, even in rough sea conditions. I very rarely used the cockpit cover and sprayskirt, which sometimes got me into trouble in heavy seas. After a few years of heavy usage the deck leaked quite badly, which was a serious  problem in heavy seas, and contributed to one of my worst near-death experiences when I got caught in bad weather crossing Chatham Strait, and my kayak filled up with icy cold water. I had to keep stopping to pump out the water but part of the pump came out so I had to use my cup to bale out the water after that. I only just made it and was shaking from being so chilled and the trauma for a long time even though it was a warm sunny day.<br />
This photo was taken by fellow whale photographer Francois Gohier from France. I had been familiar with his work for a long time as one of the most published whale photographers. He was shooting from a boat at one of my regular locations and camp sites, where the whales often perform bubble net feeding. He was kind enough to send me some of the photos that he took of me and commented, “You really know how to do things the hard way!” I couldn’t disagree with that comment because that’s my style, and even to this day I still do things the hard way because it’s the only way that I know how to be.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking19.jpg
  • In the early 90s I bought a new kayak; a small double kayak that would enable me to carry more supplies and take anybody out with me if I ever wanted to. The French Nautiraid Raid double kayak is designed to have the versatility of being paddled well as a large capacity single kayak as well as a double. I ordered it from my regular supplier of kayak gear in Sitka, Baidarka Boats, and it was delivered to Tenakee Springs. At that time I was also using an old pilot boat, “Selena”, that I had bought with the help of a natural history filming company that I was going to do some work for, but it never really worked out, and my filming career was very short-lived. Although I had progressed to using a larger kayak it was still a challenge to get everything in, including myself. The two clear containers strapped above the blue dry bag on the bow are my mobile “garden” in which I grew bean sprouts. The wheels strapped to the deck are for a kayak cart that didn’t survive very long. I had always used two polystyrene crab-pot floats strung on rope as rollers to haul my kayak up and down the rocky beaches. I discovered very few sandy unobstructed beaches in Southeast Alaska to make launching and landing any easier. Packing and launching, and then beaching and unloading was always time-consuming especially when I was either impatient to get underway, or tired from a hard day’s paddling and just wanting to make camp, a fire, cook dinner and sleep.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking16.jpg
  • I had stopped for a rest along this stretch of coastline and came across this mummified carcase of a dead minke whale. I removed a small section of its baleen plates, which I was later able to use in my school presentations to show the children exactly what baleen plates look like and how they work. I also found a lot of nautilus shells washed up on that stretch of coastline and miraculously managed to transport the incredibly fragile wafer-thin shells back to England. They are some of the most exquisitely beautiful objects that I have ever collected.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California47.jpg
  • From Lunga I had to return to Mull and get more provisions in Tobermory before continuing on to the Small Isles – Muck, Eigg, Rum and Canna via Ardnemurchan, the westernmost point on mainland UK. This is a view back towards the mainland and Mull from Fladda, one of the other islands in the Treshnish Isles on the way back to Mull. The other islands and skerries at the south end of the archipelago are Cairn Na Burgh Mor and Cairn na Burgh Beag. I paddled above a lot of seaweed to the south of Lunga and the current was very strong. It was evidently another good area for basking sharks to feed because I encountered two more, but wasn’t able to remain with them for very long. The swells were getting bigger and by the time I reached Treshnish Point on Mull and entered the bay on the other side I knew that it was going to be really hard work, and that I had to really stay focussed to stay in control because the combination of the strong south-westerly wind, strong currents and confused waves was swinging me every which way. The conditions were very similar and just as challenging as when I had to fight to get to Arinagour on Coll. I was very relieved to reach the other side and round Callach Point to find calmer sea conditions. From there it was a much easier paddle to gat back to my campsite in Ardmore Bay at the northern point of Mull.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland25.jpg
  • I was now camping near Kinloch Castle built by Sir George Bullough in 1900. His father, John Bullough, was a millionaire from Lancashire, who like many entrepreneurs at the time, especially in the north of England, made his fortune from the Industrial Revolution; In his case as a manufacturer of cotton machinery. After buying the island in 1888 he continued to use it as a sporting estate until his death in 1891, but when his son took over the island he used the fortune he inherited from his father to take it to the next level of upper class extravagance. To build the castle he had to import all of the raw materials to the island. The sandstone used for its construction was quarried in Dumfries and Galloway. At the time there were about 100 people employed on the estate who were paid extra to wear kilts to work on the extensive grounds that included a nine-hole golf-course, tennis and squash courts, heated turtle and alligator ponds, and an aviary including birds of paradise and humming birds. Soil for the grounds was imported from Ayrshire, and figs, peaches, grapes and nectarines were grown in greenhouses. The interior boasted an amazing “orchestrian” device that could simulate the sounds of brass, drum and woodwind, an air- conditioned billiards room, and also a Jacuzzi.<br />
I was fascinated by the place and took advantage of a guided tour. I also ate in the small café at the back of the castle as well as taking a shower in one of the original bathrooms fitted with an innovative plumbing system. Sir George Bullough also used his wealth to travel around the world, and throughout the castle there are interesting artefacts that he collected on his travels, including his large collection of photographs, as he was also a keen photographer. The ballroom, that had a concealed balcony for an orchestra, was particularly atmospheric, and I could visualise the lavish parties that were held there for all of his high society guests from the upper class elite of the UK.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland59.jpg
  • This was one of my very few whale photos that was taken from a boat when I was living in Petersburg: this was taken a short distance from the town. The products manager that used a lot of my work for Athena International moved to another big international paper products company, Verkerke based in the Netherlands. He continued to select my whale photos for the new company, and this is one of the first images that was used for a large poster.
    Alaska-humpback-whale-sounding5.jpg
  • The road journey southwards from Antanarivo to Ranomafana National Park at the start of the rainy season was unbelievable. The road had been turned into a series of deep mud holes, that slowed the traffic down so much that it became congested into one very long, continuous convoy crawling along – like a snail through mud. Everybody had to work together to ensure that the convoy continued moving very slowly. As soon as one vehicle was dragged through, wheels spinning and mud flying, that vehicle would assist the next one with cables or chains. There were mud holes so deep that elephants and hippos could have wallowed in them. I was amazed at how organized and patient everybody was, but that was obviously borne out of an annually recurring necessity. It was almost impossible trying to avoid getting caked in mud, either from underfoot or from the mud flying from the spinning wheels.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey50.jpg
  • In 1888 the island was acquired by Sir George’s father, John Bullough, a cotton machinery manufacturer and self-made millionaire from Lancashire, England. Rum was used by the family as a hunting estate and when John Bullough died in 1891 he was interred on the west of the island, at Harris Bay, in a rock cut mausoleum. <br />
<br />
Legend has it, that a guest of the Bulloughs remarked that the rock cut mausoleum (having mosaic tiling to the interior) was “redolent of a public lavatory in Waterloo Station”.  Sir George, who had been knighted in 1901 and who had set about a programme of improvements on the island which included the building of Kinloch Castle, commissioned a new Grecian inspired family mausoleum (also at Harris Bay).  Upon its completion the original rock cut mausoleum was demolished and the remains of George’s late father were reinterred within the new monument.<br />
The body of John Bullough was joined by his son, Sir George Bullough who died in France in 1939 and that of his wife, Lady Monica who died in 1967 at the age of 98.  Though Sir George and Lady Monica’s daughter, Hermione, is not interred therein her name was inscribed on the side of her mother’s tomb during recent conservation works (completed 2006).<br />
Though the island and castle are now owned by Scottish Natural Heritage the mausoleum remains in hands of the Bullough Trustees.
    Kayaking-West-Coast-Scotland58.jpg
  • What an auspicious start to my trip! I had already made one false start leaving too late in the day and having to head back to the relative shelter of Tamatave. The next day I paddled 20 miles along the completely featureless coastline, and all I saw was a continuous, steep beach, with the big swells of the Indian Ocean crashing down onto it. I couldn’t see any ideal places for making a safe landing so I had to just go for it, come what may. I monitored the sequence of waves and made a dash for it at what seemed the safest point. I managed to get through the surf but as soon as I hit the beach and jumped out of the kayak the next wave broke into the cockpit and the powerful undertow started to drag my heavy flooded kayak back out to sea. The alarm bells were already clanging away inside my head, along with the thought, “Here’s another fine mess I’ve got myself into!”<br />
I instinctively started grabbing bags out of the kayak and hurling them up onto the beach while either my feet or knees were desperately anchoring into the abrasive shingle, but I was still being dragged around mercilessly by my unruly kayak. I looked down along the endless beach and saw two diminutive figures so I started hollering for help. As they got nearer my heart sank because I could see that it was a young girl with a child. They could only grab my things that were floating away in the relentless surf but then miraculously a strong young man appeared on the scene, and jumped into the sea to help me wrestle with my half-submerged kayak. The kayak was a dead weight in the water so I decided to start dismantling the cockpit coaming so that some of the water could be drained from the cockpit. It worked, and after much heaving we managed to drag it up the beach away from the surf; we both collapsed on the shore, utterly exhausted and chilled by the cold water. I was eternally grateful for the providential arrival of that young man on that deserted stretch of coastline.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey1.jpg
  • When we first bought the sailboat from the builder, a highly skilled English shipwright called Jim, he had painted the deck with black bitumastic paint as a drastic last resort to stop the mahogany deck leaking. It worked but created such a horrible mess on our hands and clothes, or anything that came into contact with it so we had to bite the bullet and scrape it all off, and what a horrible job that was! We then had to recaulk it in the old traditional way, and seal it with sealant using a sealant gun, which was also a horribly messy job. It was the first time that I had done anything like that before. The final sealing with sealant wasn't very successful because the seams opened up so much in hot dry weather, and the deck always leaked to some degree in different places. Apparently mahogany isn't the ideal choice for decking because it shrinks and swells too much.
    Southeast-Alaska-Avalon2.jpg
  • In my Klepper folding kayak, with sailboat Avalon moored at the Brothers Islands, with Admiralty Island in the background,  Stephen’s Passage, Southeast Alaska, Alaska, USA. <br />
<br />
My Alaskan partner and I worked together at a salmon cannery in the fishing town, Petersburg on Mitkof Island. We bought a 26 ft gaff cutter from an English boat builder who sailed it to Alaska from Oregon. My partner Anne, named it “Avalon”, because of a special interest in Arthurian legends. I then bought a Klepper Aerius 1 folding kayak from a local high-school teacher who did kayaking trips to the Arctic every summer with her fellow high-school teacher husband. I was now fully equipped to explore Southeast Alaska with my partner. The Brothers Islands is a pair of small islands in Stephen’s Passage a short distance from Admiralty Island. It is a beautiful, safe anchorage, with a commanding view of Stephen’s Passage and humpback whales commonly frequent the area. There is a Steller sea lion haul-out a short distance from the islands, where I saw many entertaining performances by those most endearing of sea creatures.
    Whaleman.tif
  • I took this photo from the end of the salmon cannery where I worked from 1979-86. The Devils Thumb mountain is clearly visible on the border between Canada and the USA.This photo was my first photo to be used by the Alaskan Marine Highway, and appeared on the cover of the ferry schedule. They used several more of my photos in exchange for free passes every year.
    Alaska-ferry.jpg
  • When I was in La Paz with the American kayaker, Corrie, we met an American guide who worked for the main commercial kayaking tour company in La Paz and he invited us to stay at their place while we there. I later arranged to meet up with him and one of his tour groups when I headed north back to Loreto. Shortly after meeting up with them at their camp I heard an animal crying out in the desert not far away from us so I ran in the direction of the cries and surprised a coyote attacking this mule deer fawn; It had its jaws clamped onto the fawn's back as you can see from the wound on its back. The startled coyote ran away leaving the wounded fawn behind. The Mexican support boat operator in the photo, who was accompanying the kayaking group, kindly offered to take the fawn back to La Paz to see if it could be saved.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California54.jpg