Seymour Narrows & Ripple Rock | Travel Photography

On a warm May afternoon aboard a small ship I watched as deep, swirling currents formed whirlpools in the channel ahead. Little did I know, I was about to have an unforgettable Seymour Narrows travel experience.

We had been fighting the tide for a while and making slow progress. As we reached Seymour Narrows, where the current can reach 15 knots, conditions warranted a cautious approach. Our ship anchored in a sheltered cove and we went ashore for a safe view of the treacherous channel

Top: Maud Island Trail leads through dark forest to an overlook of Seymour Narrows
Bottom: Abstracted twater details of strong tidal currents

After a short zodiac trip to a small dock and a trailhead, we were welcomed by a bright grassy path leading toward a dark forest. The cool air of the shade on Maud Island Trail offered relief from the heat. As we hiked up the rocky path. a view of water gradually appeared through the trees. We had reached a mossy bluff overlooking Seymour Narrows below.

Forest trail and glimpse of Seymour Narrows, travel photography
View of strong currents in Seymour Narrows, travel photography
Top: A mossy trail through the forest with a glimpse of Discovery Passage beyond
Bottom: Seymour Narrows and the surrounding mountain landscape

Seymour Narrows & Ripple Rock History

These waterways and the surrounding landscape are the traditional territory of the Wei Wai Kum First Nation. It is noted in their background & historical information that “The regularly treacherous waterways and passages of places like Seymour Narrows, Race Point and Arran Rapids were utilized strategically in warfare to successfully defend against raids by northern tribes of the Haida and Bella Coola.” It has been fascinating to learn more about the rich regional history and modern-day presence of the Wei Wai Kum indigenous communities here.

Detail view of strong currents in  Seymour Narrows, travel photography

Seymour Narrows is a short and powerful stretch of water in British Columbia, Canada. It is part of the Discovery Channel, along the Northeastern coast of Vancouver Island. Along with being an important shipping channel, it is known for being the site of an enormous man-made explosion. In 1958 the underwater mountain Ripple Rock was “moved” to make transiting the narrows safer. If you are curious, there is an excellent short film and more information about this bit of Ripple Rock history here.

Meditations on the Tide

We spent some time resting on cushions of deep moss along the top of the bluff, watching the rushing water below.

A boat transiting Forest trail and Seymour Narrows, travel photography

Snowy mountain peaks rose in the distance as small boats rode the tide South through the channel. Whirlpools swirled across the glittering dark blue and silvery water. An especially frothy patch of water churned where Ripple Rock lurks beneath the waves.

Ripple Rock and Forest trail and Seymour Narrows, travel photography
Strong tidal currents flow over the site of Ripple Rock

Returning to the ship, our skipper decided that the timing was right to catch a sunset slack tide through the narrows. Our overnight anchorage was just a little further North at Deep Bay. By the time we entered Seymour Narrows the whirlpools and rapids had calmed. A cold wind swept down from the mountains. I particularly enjoy these moments on the bow, quiet and contemplative. I had read about Seymour Narrows, but experiencing it firsthand has put into perspective just how powerful the changing tides can be in this part of the world.

POV sunset view transiting by small ship, Seymour Narrows, travel photography

This was an especially memorable afternoon and a fun travel photography challenge, as the conditions changed quickly and often. Find my Maud Island/Seymour Narrows travel gallery here, and my full expedition story here. As of the writing of this post, I still have many more photos to edit and stories from this journey to assemble, so be sure to check back or even better, subscribe to my newsletter so you don’t miss future updates.

Holding Space, Looking for Light

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” – James Baldwin⁠

Fair warning, this is not a happy post, and beyond a shared mood, the text has very little to do with the image.

It has become increasingly difficult to focus on what is right in front of me. There is a deepening, bitter edge to each day, and I know the root of it is a pain which is being experienced at personal and collective levels everywhere. So many aspects of the social contract have been broken, or worse, are proving to have never existed at all.⁠

The events of January 6th were unsurprising but still a shock; after an hour or so of live coverage, I felt my mind retreat, curled into the fetal position where I sat, and fell asleep. I take pride in not looking away from even the most jarring images, but I’d hit my limit. On so many levels, it was a day of terrifying white nationalism and grotesque systemic racism on full display. And we can expect more of the same because the hatred espoused by racists is rooted in fear and pain, which they will continue to avoid addressing.


I don’t know about you, but I find myself marvelling at layer upon layer of heartbreak and frustration. Are we still in the midst of a pandemic, bracing for the consequences of holiday gatherings and travel? Did my neighbours have yet another string of visitors every day this week, despite lockdown rules? Have members of my local government been taking tropical vacations while telling the rest of us to stay home, in the midst of a particularly dreary Canadian winter? Has the weather been unusually warm and dry, both here in Manitoba and back in California, indicating yet another record year as climate change grinds away like a foregone conclusion?

I look for the good news. The unassuming heroes and helpers, the small signs of progress. I know that there are reasons for cautious optimism, and I am doing my best to cling to hope instead of hate. Part of that process is to occasionally let the weight of everything fall out of focus and acknowledge the pain. We’re allowed to feel hurt and angry right now, so as to better regroup, refocus and move forward, because we have a long, long way to go.

Winter Light Photography | Personal Work & Studies

As winter settles in, the sun is slipping lower and lower across the sky. During the winter solstice here in Winnipeg, Manitoba the sun barely clears the treetops. Such low-angled rays of light are magical, and to celebrate the season I’ve gathered some winter light photography snapshots from recent years…

I find that winter light is particularly well-suited to capturing surreal window reflections, allowing for layers of light and colour to blend with abstracted patterns. When illuminated from a low angle, snow becomes a textural wonderland of sparkling deep drifts, painted with fading light and blue shadows.

Trees and winter light

Filtering the last rays of golden hour, or catching a gilded glow in their bare branches against blue skies. Such stark winter forms are welcome whether framing sunsets or arching above city streets, as they lend shape and contrast to the winter light all day long.

Trees lend structure to the frosty winter air, and when they are illuminated just-so they compliment the bones of the landscape or urban environment, laid bare by the season.

Winter light photography and interior spaces

Casting soft, surreal shadows in unexpected places, light filtered through old glass windows is particularly irresistible to try and capture with the camera. Something as simple as an unintentional coffee cup still life might appear on a wall for a moment, painted in shadow and quick to disappear as the light shifts.

Often the swaying of winter branches will make these patches of light dance and shift, like light through moving water as seen at the bottom of a pool.

Varied views of the same cityscape

Downtown Winnipeg features a mix of old and new buildings. As their facades catch and reflect the winter light throughout the day, the mood and feel of the cityscape changes too. With the early sunset, lights in windows twinkle while the dusky sky still holds onto the last of the sunlight. The moon rises over the city with its glow softened by the icy atmosphere.

The golden glow of the winter light is especially beautiful contrasted with the blue shadows and snow of the cityscape, and I couldn’t resist the reflection of a sunlit building in the sideview mirror on a winter’s afternoon.

Windows become magical glittering surfaces

Frosted with ice crystals or illuminated by gently shifting shadows. Abstract layers of light are caught and transformed inside and out, and even though the daylight hours are short, there seems to be no end to the beauty that winter can conjure with a bit of moisture or moving light on glass surfaces.

The two images at the bottom left of these wintery window scenes are actually shots of frost accumulation on the inside of an old set of windows. The two images in the bottom right are of the same perspective through fluted glass at different times of day.

Of course a winter landscape is made even more beautiful by the light

Rippling sheets of icy clouds and endless shades of blue. Sunsets last longer, and the blushing glow of their colours is reflected in the snow and ice. Often the sky looks like mother-of-pearl, iridescent and luminous.

I love how the winter landscape is often a study in subtlety, with fence-lines and horizons blurred by blowing snow, and the sky a soft gradient veiled in lacy clouds. When the sunsets are colourful, it is always in shades made more vivid by the coolness of the surrounding scene.

Little details of domestic life are illuminated in beautiful light and shadow, turning the long winter months of staying mostly indoors into magical journeys through familiar spaces.

Something as simple as a tissue or glass of water can be transformed by the winter light. Of course the dog loves the winter sunlight too, and can often be found basking in the glow of those fleeting, low-angled rays of warmth.

All of the photos in this post are from various phone cameras. I find that winter light photography inspires snapshots as it is such a fleeting and beautiful part of every day. To see new snapshots as I share them, just head over to @photoapk on Instagram and follow me there!

Liquid Light | Abstract Art Photography

Years ago the tonal possibilities of black and white film taught me to watch for interesting abstractions of light and texture. As my style and technique has evolved, a strong love of abstract art photography has remained a creative constant in my personal work.

Abstract black and white art photography image of rippling light through shallow water
Liquid light, black & white

While on a walk through the coastal forest of Mendocino County in California, I came upon a quietly running clear stream. Sunlight filtered through the trees above, illuminating the rippling water as it passed over smooth, multicoloured stones. Ribbons of light shimmered across the shadowy stream-bed. I only shot two frames of this spot, close and abstracted in black and white to emphasize the tone and texture of the contrasting liquid and hard rocky surfaces. A fluid moment in time brought to life by the motion of water and light.

Find my currently available black and white abstract art photo prints here; please inquire for custom sizes and styles.