We could dress the subject of this photograph up with words like ‘groundwater’ and ‘outfall’, but let’s call a spade a spade - or, in this case, an ugly drainpipe. If you take a walk on Vazon Bay, you’ll stumble upon one of these constructions built, presumably, to prevent hotel residents behind the sea wall from having to eat breakfast knee-deep in swamp. You probably won’t remember this feature as the most beautiful part of your visit unless, perhaps, you’re a civil engineer. So why did I pick what might be considered an eyesore, as the main subject of my photo when either side of me was pristine sandy beach? Let me talk to you a little about seeing…

I headed out with a plan - to capture an abstract dreamy image in a square format. I figured Vazon Bay would be a good location, though I’d have preferred a low, receding tide for what I had in mind - today it was already high and rising. The sand wasn’t as pristine as I had imagined - it’s surface was scattered with pebbles, seaweed and footprints. My minimalist expectations weren’t playing-out and I needed a subject - with nothing else around, I had to try to see the big ugly drainpipe, which I’d normally avoid at all costs, differently.

The rising tide was just lapping the concrete at the end of the drainpipe as I approached - I had time to think things through. Sticking to my plan of abstract, dreamy and square, I knew I needed to compose centrally and symmetrically - looking straight down the barrel of the drainpipe would create strong leading lines and a series of simple, graphic shapes would help pull the viewer into the scene. Waiting for the tide to rise higher would wipe out any footprints surrounding the pipe and a slow shutter-speed would contribute the ‘dreamy’ quality I was aiming to create. The next consideration was that of which lens I would use.

The vast majority of my scenic photos are shot with wide-angle lenses - in fact I tested this first. While I could have stuck with a 16mm or 24mm lens, I felt that they weakened the subject, lengthening the pipe and causing it to recede too far into the distance. Also, the edges of the bay encroached into the shot and I didn’t want any detail that didn’t need to be there. Yes, I could have made the first ring appear much closer/larger and included more of the dramatic sky in the frame, but I felt I needed to compress the scene to enhance the graphic nature of the subject but not so much that I’d lose the surroundings completely. 35mm was the sweet-spot (50mm equivalent on full-frame), tripod mounted fairly close to the sand, placing the pipe just below the horizon, which itself was placed within the lower half of the frame. I could have set my camera to display a square crop, but elected not to as it was fairly easy to imagine anyway.

The sun was mostly covered by cloud, behind and to my left but the scene was too bright to allow a slow enough shutter speed, requiring me to add an adjustable neutral-density filter to the end of the lens. I dialled in about 50% on the filter and experimented with shutter speeds until I found one that best complimented the speed and movement of the incoming waves - on another day, with different conditions, the ideal shutter might be completely different. The speed I chose was long-enough to significantly blur the water, but short enough that some structure was still visible in it, rather than allowing everything to become a perfectly-smooth ‘mist’. I closed the aperture right down to f/16 in order to get sharpness from the first ring on the pipe, to the horizon. I wouldn’t normally recommend such a narrow aperture because defraction can become an issue, but it was necessary given the focal-length and I knew that the image didn’t require optimum detail, as most of it would be blurred anyway. If the scene became lighter or darker, I could compensate with minor adjustments to the ND filter, leaving my exposure settings constant throughout the shoot. With the addition of a release-cord, the camera was set.

By this time the tide had reached half-way along the pipe. I figured I’d shoot once it reached the closest ring, giving me time to tidy the scene a little. The water would cover most of the pebbles and weed, but I removed what I could from the scene, particularly some nestled against the pipe. Then it was just a matter of watching and waiting.

The waves were clean and consistent, as the tide rose, some broke over the concrete extremity of the pipe. I wanted to capture that moment but I also wanted some waves covering closer sections of the pipe, to break-up and soften its structure a little. This was just a matter of timing - waiting for a set to pass the concrete and then shoot when a more distant wave exploded over it. The best shots came once the water had risen throughout the entire scene, just covering the sand. Waiting had allowed some colour to develop in the sky too as the sun came closer to setting. Now with wet feet, I could pack up and leave knowing I had a good selection of photos in the bag.

Back home, with fairly consistent exposure across the images, my choice was based on which offered the best drama in terms of wave-shape and a balanced symmetry. I had a winner but also used a second, processed identically, to brush over a couple of areas that I wasn’t happy with. Processing was actually very straight forward - the most striking enhancement came from the Dehaze filter, which I rarely use, but helped bring some structure back into the water. I reduced exposure in the sky a tiny amount through a gradient and added a very soft-edged vignette over the whole image, to draw the eye to the centre. There was nothing to clean up as I had removed any weed that might have caused problems at the time of shooting.

That’s it - who’d have thought that a big old drainpipe could look so good? I wanted to give you an insight into my thought process while I’m out shooting, and to demonstrate how the way we choose to ‘see’ can mean the difference between ugly and something quite beautiful. There might be powerful a life-lesson in that.