Bob Crum

For hundreds of years phonetographers have been predicting the imminent extinction of dSLR cameras. iRule with my iPhone their rallying cry. Tsk tsk. Here in the 21st Century, dSLR and mirrorless cameras are flourishing. Viva la photography!

After last week's column, many of my traditionalist readers began to wonder if I succumbed to the dark side. Rest assured that one (lucky) photo of a honey bee from my Samsung S10+ does not make me a phonetographer. Yet!

I previously wrote that I'd spend a day shooting with my Samsung S10+ to learn it's strengths and weaknesses. However, life has a unique way of intruding and messing up plans. In the meantime, join me on a brief photographic experience involving 'real' photography. The kind that makes the hair on your head curl and your ears wiggle with a giggle.

We're going back to 1987 when I was shooting with a Canon A-1 film camera. She was sleek and beautiful and had dials and buttons. And the sound of the shutter was musical. But 40 years ago, photography was also exasperating. Shooting film meant shot budgeting was critical. A roll of film had a finite amount of frames - 24 or 36. Seldom did I shoot 24-exposure film - too limiting. In many situations, even a 36-exposure roll of film wasn't sufficient. Thank goodness the A-1 camera didn't have a 10-frame 'burst' mode. Brrrrrrrrt, next roll of film please!

As associate editor (writer and photographer) for the Southern Star boating & fishing magazine, the publisher assigned me to cover a week-long marlin fishing tournament at Green Turtle Key in the Bahamas. I know, a dreadful assignment. Thrilled until the publisher gave me five rolls of 36-exposure film and said 'don't come back without a cover shot’. Only FIVE rolls for a week-long shoot? Send Larry instead, I pleaded.

On the island, I had to choose one boat and shoot happenings on only that boat. What if? Fishing Monday and Tuesday, off Wednesday, fish Thursday and Friday with 3 p.m. lines in on Friday. As feared, nothing happened on MY boat all week. NOTHING! Doom and gloom ensued! Then, at 2:30 p. m. Friday, the deckhand yelled: MARLIN! And angler Doc Copage hooked up. Hallelujah! After radioing headquarters, it doesn't matter how long it takes to boat the marlin.

I had the last roll of film in the camera. As the angler brought the huge marlin close to the boat, I began shooting, judiciously, cognizant of the significance of the moment! There were several unsuccessful attempts to boat the mighty marlin. Twelve shots taken, 24 frames left. Later, when the deckhand had the fish by the bill at the transom, this was it! I fired off fifteen more shots only to watch the marlin slide back into the water. With only nine frames left, I was sweating but not from the hot Bahama sun. I quickly climbed up on the flybridge to shoot from above the deck and waited. As the exhausted marlin was finally brought aboard, I shot the last nine frames while holding my breath.

Shooting on a white boat on a brightly-lit ocean, both with copious amounts of glare is worrisome. Too much can go wonky. Anxiety gripped my gut like a vise. Concentrating on the composition, did I nail the exposure? Did I focus accurately?

Back in Ft. Lauderdale, with much riding on the outcome, the staff held their collective breaths during film processing. At last, the photo editor came out of the darkroom with two raised thumbs. Sigh! Frame number 35 of the last roll of film made the magazine's cover. Sweet success and fulfillment. Such experiences constitute the thrill and travails of photojournalism. And the passion continues. Photo of the week is the Southern Star magazine cover featuring my photo. Happy shooting!

Send comments, suggestions or questions to: focusonphotography@earthlink.net