Subsurface: An Underworld Glimpse

Ten minutes into our face-off, the massive Giant Trevally snapped my Sage 12 wt. between the panga’s transom and our twin Yamaha motors. Minutes later the ensuing butt sections separated, leaving me cranking on the GT for another 10 minutes with a stubby two-foot section of seriously stiff rod. Not as planned. Not atypical for chasing these lions!

By ROBERT DOTSON

It began with a fortuitous spot, the 120cm GT prowling the flats of the remote Farquhar Island in the Seychelles just as we were preparing to drop overboard to hike the sandy white flats.

The fish immediately changed course, angling toward us on a string. I hurriedly launched my Semper streamer on its virgin voyage off onto the giant’s incoming right side.

Chocking disgust immediately sat in my throat as the fly landed off course. To her right, as planned, but easily two meters wide of my target. The only saving grace was that the fly almost certainly had to still be in her visual window. She immediately altered course and slammed the fly with an abandon that few fish can deliver on planet earth. Peering from my isolated fiberglass perch, I participated in one of the most dramatic events in my fly fishing life. All of it unfolding in rich chromatic display under the warm waters of the Indian Ocean.

Harnessing an Epic World

That experience is one reason why I have hauled ungodly amounts of Nikon glass and steel in backpacks, duffle bags, helicopters, and been subjected to bonus international airport security screenings for over a decade. For the chance to harness a small glimpse into the epic world where our piscatorial pursuits are truly unveiled. Underwater.

“Peering from my isolated fiberglass perch, I participated in one of the most dramatic events in my fly fishing life”

With the objective of tackling not just an underwater shot of a fish being released, but also the more elusive task of showing the magnificence of their aquatic environment, I purchased my first underwater camera set-up.

A compact underwater pocket camera that promised portability and “perfect shots”. I was immediately disappointed with the output. So began my quest to study the work and equipment of other photographers, both in and out of our sport, like David Herasimtschuk, Brian Gregson, and Adam Barker who each uniquely capture stunning underwater images.

Since those early days I have tested numerous cameras and housings before landing on my current gear set.

Excess Weight

Upon arriving at one of my favorite New Zealand, South Island destinations, my guide took one look at me our first morning together and laid down his preemptive rule for our trip together. “Mate, I am not carrying any of your extra camera gear! None of it.”

“No worries, nobody carries my gear. If I bring it, I’m ready to haul it.”

My chosen triploid of gear allows me to make both weight and convenience trade-offs, depending on space and destination.

First, my primary go-to workhorse is my Aquatech underwater surf housing and dome wrapped around my Nikon D810, which allows cropping without detail loss. Second, the compact, large sensor based SonyRX-100 camera series (in its 7th generation) with Recsea dive housing, allowing me to pack-in to remote locations with minimal weight.

Lastly, my at-the-ready Aquatech Axis Go with dome for the iPhone 11 Pro (it also shoots in RAW) is on every outdoor excursion where I don’t plan on shooting underwater but delivers when the unexpected underwater opportunity reveals itself.

When the Conditions Are Right

Underwater photography is tailor-made for bright days in the salt. Light easily penetrates the upper layers of the ocean where our sport takes place, with unbridled amounts of space to operate.

Ocean storms, along with freshwater rivers and lakes of the continents, however, obscure light. As a result, photographers are challenged at virtually every level in these waters. Your camera gear, therefore, must be able to operate with high ISO compensation and tack sharp autofocus with dynamic ability to acquire the target. But it isn’t all about the camera.

When fly fishing the salt, I frequently carry a snorkel and mask for my photography, allowing me to comfortably work underwater in the moment and compose images to take some of the guess work out of the process.

In freshwater I also don’t hesitate to literally dive into my work. The shot of the West Slope Cutthroat was taken by sticking myself on the river bottom of the Middle Fork of the Salmon river. I stripped off my shirt, loaded my pockets with rocks and donned a pair of swimming goggles so I could get an upward angle on the action.

Patience And All the Rest…

Preplanning your work is where the dynamic output you want begins. I always visualize possible scenes first. Thereafter I am free to work out the details of how those envisioned shots could be realized. Powerful images, art, rarely ever just happens. The base of my fly fishing art work results from being the son of a professional wildlife photographer.

I learned patience, anticipation, experimentation, and composition at his feet. When questioned about how he delivered such amazing images, he would always say, “I only show you my best shot, not the outings and thousands of shots that hit the trash.” I have built my underwater photography around that gospel truth.

“To get a mere handful of good underwater photos I will shoot as fast as my shutter will process”

To get a mere handful of good underwater photos I will shoot as fast as my shutter will process. Then, easily, 98% of my underwater work hits the digital trash bin.

What Will the Future Bring?

This mysterious underwater world remains a new frontier for fly fishing photographers. The persistent battle rages on, where anglers battle to extract their quarry above the surface film into our world for a moment, as our finned prey fight to stay underneath, safe in their world.

As a fly fishing photographer, the vast majority of what happens from the fish’s perspective in these quests is, and will remain, a visual mystery. How many times in underwater footage have you seen a big trout flare and inhale a streamer? Let alone engulf a bullfrog or dislodge rocks with his snout hunting sculpin? This highlights only a smidgen of the piscatorial world that I am seeking to capture.

It may take new technology innovation and even other photography pioneers to click these aquatic shutters. But I have no doubt that the nirvana of underwater fly fishing art remains only temporarily harnessed by our imagination.

Stay tuned and stand ready to be amazed at what’s to come!