The big storm waves had already passed but I was in Sydney on the morning of 6 July so I wanted to see what shots I could take of interesting waves. While the sea was calming down I thought that there was still drama in the surging water that would make heading out in the rain worthwhile. Even from sheltered Camp Cove I could see that there was white-capped water everywhere in the outer parts of Sydney Harbour. Walking along the well maintained footpath, then descended a slippery muddy track, I found a place just inside the base of South Head below Hornby Lighthouse. The storm-tossed sea was a greyish-green with waves dashing ashore every few seconds. I was reluctant to walk further around the rock platform because the only possible route took me across an area that was occasionally inundated by rushing waves. Despite not being in the best spot for the compositions I was thrilled to be watching the harbour waters contorting with the waves running across them. I hope that you enjoy the photographs below.
I was trying to catch the waves just as they were breaking but they were refracting around South Head and I was just not close enough to that point. Despite that, the waves put on a show. There was a rock platform already underwater just off-shore that made the waves break in a sudden eruption of churning white water. The wind was coming from onshore, carrying the wave spray up and back over the waves in a misty trail.
Waves crashing on the inside of South Head
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2500, 176mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
Looking our to sea, there were lines of swell rolling in from the Pacific Ocean that were trying to get through the Sydney Heads. The rough sea was tumbling over itself whenever it struck the rocks where I was located.
The sea was choppy and unfriendly with waves rolling in from across the Pacific Ocean
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2500, 164mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
The mighty sandstone cliffs protecting the harbour were doing their job even as the powerful waves slowly ate away at hundreds of millions of years sediment that formed their bedrock. However, the swell was able to race in through the open heads angrily entering the normally calmer waters of the harbour.
Waves kept their strength when they arrived at the harbour entrance
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2500, 278mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
Sometimes a wave would crash closely, like an angry creature pounding its head on the water’s surface in frustration at being slowed while its foam-whipped hair flayed out behind the motion. The sea was uninviting; with the water running towards my feet in sinister tentacles of browny sea foam reaching as far as they could to do mischief. This was not the usual beach water that caused uncaring squeals because a shoed-foot was left down for too long on sand and became soaked.
Angry waves beating at the water and fighting with the wind
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 800, 200mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
The swell rolling through the heads would once again build its anger to unleash it on the sandstone bastion of Middle Head that appeared to exist as the final line securing the inner harbour from the full force of a storm angered ocean beyond. The waves clawed high up Middle Head’s soaked stone where their force would dissipate in white foam and mist, falling back into the water to be sucked into the waves following on behind.
Waves crashing onto Middle Head
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1250, 400mm, f/10 and 1/1000 SEC])
Despite this natural violence of pounding waves there was a delicate beauty in the detail of the tossed foam. Each photograph produced a unique pattern that was a moment in time which would never come again. The crazy shapes, stretched and contorted, with parts separating under released tension.
Crashing foam frozen by the camera in fantastical patterns
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 800, 271mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
Even the oozing of the spent waves down the rocks created a contrasted of smooth white against rough stone. A momentary waterfall thundering down with bloated streams of water that disappeared under the next wave to exist again in a moment.
Waves dripping down a rock
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2500, 400mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
While I could admire the strength of the sea from a sturdy rock the hard-woking Sydney ferries were finding this part of the harbour tough going. Bows would fully emerge from the swell before carving back in. The ferry captains were turning into the swell so as not to have the lines of water roll under the side of the craft and make the vessel sway dramatically to the discomfort of the passengers. Turning into the swell meant that the ferries sometime looked like they were going to run out of the heads but the captains knew when to turn to keep them on track to their destination.
Ferry’s bow out of the water
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2500, 176mm, f/7.1 and 1/1000 SEC])
Walking back with the wind blowing through the trees and a light drizzle falling I thought that is was an appropriate opportunity to photograph the first Marine Biological Station in Australia. Photographing it from a distance was probably also the right thing to do because it was now a private residence. The government built the station in 1881 as a workplace for a renowned Russian scientist who had arrived in the colony of New South Wales. The building is heritage listed now so it will hopefully survive into the future but it sits on prime, multi-million dollar Sydney real estate so there is little likelihood of it being returned to public ownership as a museum or something similar.
Old Marine Biological Station in Sydney Harbour
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1250, 176mm, f/10and 1/400 SEC])
The only bird that I was able to photograph was this Silver Gull (Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae) that was flying past the cliffs inside South Head. It landed on some calm water away from the waves closer to the tip of the headland.
Silver Gull flying
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 1250, 400mm, f/8 and 1/1250 SEC])
I had one last stop before returning to where I had parked my car at Camp Cove. Just before that small but picturesque beach there was a long-established tide measuring station. The concrete pathway around it had subsided due to the continuous actions of the harbours waters and the station itself was fenced off for restoration work. However, below the station, among the large rocks, a number of Purple Swift-footed Rock Crabs (Leptograpsus variegatus) were going about their lives unknowing about the repair work above them. These crabs were common along this area and their colours were a welcome contrast to the grey sky above. The water here was not as disturbed as I had seen only a few minutes earlier but it was still rougher than normal. These crabs were barely interrupted when water rushed up onto them. Their legs kept them secure on their rocks while their claws gathered more food.
Purple Swift-footed Rock Crab
(Canon EOS 6D Mk II with a Canon EF100-400mm f4.5-5.6L IS II USM [ISO 2000, 400mm, f/5.6 and 1/400 SEC])
I am glad that I went out in some unpleasant rain and wind to photograph the waves on Sydney Harbour. I was a solitary figure on South Head but the waves were worth it. They were all different sizes and shapes and I probably missed more shots than I took but it was a thrilling experience to watch those breakers roll in. I still need more practice with this style of photography but I am looking forward to the next opportunity already.
Thanks for reading this post and thanks also for looking at my photos. I hope you come back again to read more about some of the wonderful natural things that south-east Australia has on offer. All the best until the next post.