Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Quick News
I will be giving a talk on the perilous state of hard coral reefs worldwide, and efforts to keep them from becoming extinct, at the Sandhandle Workshops on November 19th, and teaching a workshop on using underwater video in documentary film making on November 20th. Stay tuned for information!
Monday, August 2, 2010
Update, August 1
Admitedly, I took a few weeks off. I practically stepped off the airplane from Miami and into my formal workday at CNN. Although I unpacked later that night, it took me a few days to start loading the video into the edit system. It took me a few weeks more to recover from my “vacation.”
My brain slowly returned to thoughts of coral reefs. The first inspiration happened with friends after an evening of ice cream and libations, when I was struck with the sudden urge to share my “vacation video.” Specifically, the underwater footage.
Fortunately, they were receptive. It was also the first time I watched my Florida camerawork on an HD screen. The little samples I posted on Vimeo were all edited on my laptop on-location. I scanned a few clips when I loaded them into the computer, but I never sat and just watched.
By the next day, I had watched and mentally relived all of my dives in wondrous HD. It compelled me to pen my memories in this journal before I forgot all the details, which in turn changed my perspective on how I had been approaching the final edit.
Simply put, I managed to convince myself in the last year that I would be able to build the new show in a modular fashion, leveraging segments from Corals of Trawangan for Putting The Pieces Together, saving myself work in the end by simply building on an established foundation. But in the final analysis, I was obviously mistaken, concluding that the best product could only be built from the ground up – albeit using recycled parts in some cases.
My record-keeping to date had not been stellar. I made a limited effort to log the first visit to Gili Trawangan, and found those files after some searching. They were dreadfully incomplete, with little description and no transcription. More of a guide than a log. I couldn’t find any logs for the second trip there – I think I didn’t bother, since so much of the follow-up was only b-roll.
The justification at the time was two-fold. Brevity (or laziness, depending upon your perspective) seemed like a reasonable path since the scope was limited to Indonesia. I thought it would be quicker in the long run to just flip through the footage while editing instead of logging it all in detail first. But the target moved, and the familiarity with the footage has aged.
So it was time to revisit all the footage. And log it.
I started earnestly in June, tackling the major interviews and transcribing down to the um, ah, and st-st-stutter. I did all the sit-down interviews first, starting with Mike, Dom and Lee so I could refresh my memory and decide how to use those great interviews. From there, it went on to cover just about all interviews to date with the exception of Zach and Delphine from Gili Trawangan. I will be doing those shortly. What I have not done at all yet is transcribe the natural discussions that exist throughout the library of nearly 2000 shots. For instance, both Tom and Ken give great information in the classroom parts of their respective workshops, and I would like to incorporate some of the non-interview sound bites into the fabric of the story.
Rather than haphazardly search for those candid moments, I decided that a meticulous approach was now required beause of both the sheer quantity of coverage I have, but also the new complexity of what I plan to tackle. This master log has detail about every single shot in the library, and is keyword searchable. It’s been two weeks of building this list so far, and I am more than halfway through at 910 logged clips so far.
Once the master list is complete, all remaining transcriptions follow. None of this includes the underwater footage, with some clips 45 minutes in length. That’s the last step.
The ultimate goal? To be able to create a paper edit first to refine the story, complete with lists of known relevant footage to draw from, and edit from there. This approach should give me that flexibility, as well as enhance the speed of actual assembly. The drawbacks? It’s taking forever and is a f*$@ing drag. But I think it will help improve the quality by accounting for every clip.
And now, other news.
First, the good news. Principal photography should conclude by the beginning of November. In my projected schedule, I will have a rough cut for festival by the end of February. That’s if I have no equipment issues for the duration.
The bad news. Kosrae will likely be my final destination for principal photography. There will be no convenient end to the documentary. The prospects of Ken and Tom working together on a joint effort in the Keys have been dashed by long-time animosities and petty personal grievances within the grant body. All politics is local, and some people want Tom to remain an outsider.
I try to keep an objective point of view on the subject matter as I follow it, but this is someplace where I wish I had a legitimate soapbox to express my disappointment that the people in the Florida Keys are willing to risk the future of their coral reefs over a bureaucrat’s personal problem. It’s not only unfortunate, but will have long-term repercussions as the health of Florida’s reefs decline. There is only so much Ken can do in the face of the long-term challenges facing these waters. And to dash potential solutions out of past personal conflict is not only pathetic, it should be considered criminal. The perpetrator should be held accountable for neglecting the people of Florida when the reefs reach, and go over, the tipping point.
This is a lesson in the underbelly of the Florida Keys ecology. It’s a story that, as a hobbyist of sorts, I don’t have the time or resources to uncover. The politics of environment is a business in Florida, one that is likely deeper and more morally bankrupt than even I suspect. That being said, there are also those who are involved for the purpose of making a positive difference, and it is my belief that the people I have worked with for my documentary are the latter.
There is still a chance for another pop down to the Keys for some b-roll, and I might have to visit Al Strong at work some time, depending on how the rough cut looks. My hope is that I can finally concentrate on post production the moment my plane touches down in Newark, NJ, after a 40-hour journey back from the middle of the Pacific.
My brain slowly returned to thoughts of coral reefs. The first inspiration happened with friends after an evening of ice cream and libations, when I was struck with the sudden urge to share my “vacation video.” Specifically, the underwater footage.
Fortunately, they were receptive. It was also the first time I watched my Florida camerawork on an HD screen. The little samples I posted on Vimeo were all edited on my laptop on-location. I scanned a few clips when I loaded them into the computer, but I never sat and just watched.
By the next day, I had watched and mentally relived all of my dives in wondrous HD. It compelled me to pen my memories in this journal before I forgot all the details, which in turn changed my perspective on how I had been approaching the final edit.
Simply put, I managed to convince myself in the last year that I would be able to build the new show in a modular fashion, leveraging segments from Corals of Trawangan for Putting The Pieces Together, saving myself work in the end by simply building on an established foundation. But in the final analysis, I was obviously mistaken, concluding that the best product could only be built from the ground up – albeit using recycled parts in some cases.
My record-keeping to date had not been stellar. I made a limited effort to log the first visit to Gili Trawangan, and found those files after some searching. They were dreadfully incomplete, with little description and no transcription. More of a guide than a log. I couldn’t find any logs for the second trip there – I think I didn’t bother, since so much of the follow-up was only b-roll.
The justification at the time was two-fold. Brevity (or laziness, depending upon your perspective) seemed like a reasonable path since the scope was limited to Indonesia. I thought it would be quicker in the long run to just flip through the footage while editing instead of logging it all in detail first. But the target moved, and the familiarity with the footage has aged.
So it was time to revisit all the footage. And log it.
I started earnestly in June, tackling the major interviews and transcribing down to the um, ah, and st-st-stutter. I did all the sit-down interviews first, starting with Mike, Dom and Lee so I could refresh my memory and decide how to use those great interviews. From there, it went on to cover just about all interviews to date with the exception of Zach and Delphine from Gili Trawangan. I will be doing those shortly. What I have not done at all yet is transcribe the natural discussions that exist throughout the library of nearly 2000 shots. For instance, both Tom and Ken give great information in the classroom parts of their respective workshops, and I would like to incorporate some of the non-interview sound bites into the fabric of the story.
Rather than haphazardly search for those candid moments, I decided that a meticulous approach was now required beause of both the sheer quantity of coverage I have, but also the new complexity of what I plan to tackle. This master log has detail about every single shot in the library, and is keyword searchable. It’s been two weeks of building this list so far, and I am more than halfway through at 910 logged clips so far.
Once the master list is complete, all remaining transcriptions follow. None of this includes the underwater footage, with some clips 45 minutes in length. That’s the last step.
The ultimate goal? To be able to create a paper edit first to refine the story, complete with lists of known relevant footage to draw from, and edit from there. This approach should give me that flexibility, as well as enhance the speed of actual assembly. The drawbacks? It’s taking forever and is a f*$@ing drag. But I think it will help improve the quality by accounting for every clip.
And now, other news.
First, the good news. Principal photography should conclude by the beginning of November. In my projected schedule, I will have a rough cut for festival by the end of February. That’s if I have no equipment issues for the duration.
The bad news. Kosrae will likely be my final destination for principal photography. There will be no convenient end to the documentary. The prospects of Ken and Tom working together on a joint effort in the Keys have been dashed by long-time animosities and petty personal grievances within the grant body. All politics is local, and some people want Tom to remain an outsider.
I try to keep an objective point of view on the subject matter as I follow it, but this is someplace where I wish I had a legitimate soapbox to express my disappointment that the people in the Florida Keys are willing to risk the future of their coral reefs over a bureaucrat’s personal problem. It’s not only unfortunate, but will have long-term repercussions as the health of Florida’s reefs decline. There is only so much Ken can do in the face of the long-term challenges facing these waters. And to dash potential solutions out of past personal conflict is not only pathetic, it should be considered criminal. The perpetrator should be held accountable for neglecting the people of Florida when the reefs reach, and go over, the tipping point.
This is a lesson in the underbelly of the Florida Keys ecology. It’s a story that, as a hobbyist of sorts, I don’t have the time or resources to uncover. The politics of environment is a business in Florida, one that is likely deeper and more morally bankrupt than even I suspect. That being said, there are also those who are involved for the purpose of making a positive difference, and it is my belief that the people I have worked with for my documentary are the latter.
There is still a chance for another pop down to the Keys for some b-roll, and I might have to visit Al Strong at work some time, depending on how the rough cut looks. My hope is that I can finally concentrate on post production the moment my plane touches down in Newark, NJ, after a 40-hour journey back from the middle of the Pacific.
Friday, July 9, 2010
The New York Times
A nifty text woke me up this morning.
I don’t think I’ve ever described a text as “nifty” before, but this certainly qualified. It was a quick note from Captain Pete. “Be sure to pick up a few copies of the NY Times this morning, get ready to laugh!” It came at 6 am and I mercifully slept through several hours of intermittent, brief buzzes as it vibrated against the night table.
One finally broke through the surface tension of a dream and the buzz beckoned me back to the waking reality. I rubbed my eyes and noticed the phone, a foot from me, was glowing with an alert so I knew a text was there. I gathered the iphone and read the text.
“Nifty!”
I decided first to check out the electronic version of the Times from my “phone” (can we really call it a phone anymore? I think I will start calling mine a PCD – Personal Communication Device. Any other suggestions with better acronyms?). I did a quick search for “Florida Oil” and up popped a truly wonderful article about how the Gulf oil spill has affected the livelihood of one Florida dive boat Captain. The Captain profiles was, in fact, Captain Pete.
The week after I left Key Largo, a New York Times reporter was dispatched to the area to report on the local reaction to the Deepwater Horizon travesty. Turns out Pete was interviewed for the article - he phoned me and told me about it shortly after the reporter left his dock. He was told at the time that they needed the perspective from a local captain for a few paragraphs in the article. So I was certainly floored to see an article all about Captain Pete's struggle in the face of the tourism drop-off, rather than just a few quotes from him in an article about the greater Keys during this ecological crisis.
It was one of the more fantastic articles I have read from the Times in some time. The writing was true artistry and painted a vivid picture from the first words, describing Captain Pete as having a “cabernet nose.” As I read on, I was truly thrilled by the quality and care the author, Damien Cave, infused into every paragraph.
I was even more surprised as I scrolled down the electronic column and a found a familiar image alongside the test – a screen grab from the commercial, showing Pete’s beaming visage hawking his glorious mustard. In the article right alongside, the story describes how a New York producer came in and made a commercial for Pete. In the text, where it said “an advertisement,” the words were linked directly to… the commercial on my Vimeo site.
Well, that was even niftier!
Here is the New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/02/us/02voice.html
It was nifty enough to get me out of bed and to the corner store to grab their remaining copies with change from my change jar - the only money I had on hand. Like the web page, it featured the screen grab as well. So thousand of people around the world saw Pete's close-up thanks to that shot, even though the New York Times did its usual stellar editorial job by not bothering to credit the image at all.
So all in all, it was a great way to start the day. Granted, this all happened much earlier in the week, and I am only now writing on it. Some may question why I would bother posting this news tidbit in a blog about my documentary. But since my relationship with Capt. Pete began as part of this project, I feel this is a most appropriate venue to show off this little success.
Serendipity indeed. Nifty.
I don’t think I’ve ever described a text as “nifty” before, but this certainly qualified. It was a quick note from Captain Pete. “Be sure to pick up a few copies of the NY Times this morning, get ready to laugh!” It came at 6 am and I mercifully slept through several hours of intermittent, brief buzzes as it vibrated against the night table.
One finally broke through the surface tension of a dream and the buzz beckoned me back to the waking reality. I rubbed my eyes and noticed the phone, a foot from me, was glowing with an alert so I knew a text was there. I gathered the iphone and read the text.
“Nifty!”
I decided first to check out the electronic version of the Times from my “phone” (can we really call it a phone anymore? I think I will start calling mine a PCD – Personal Communication Device. Any other suggestions with better acronyms?). I did a quick search for “Florida Oil” and up popped a truly wonderful article about how the Gulf oil spill has affected the livelihood of one Florida dive boat Captain. The Captain profiles was, in fact, Captain Pete.
The week after I left Key Largo, a New York Times reporter was dispatched to the area to report on the local reaction to the Deepwater Horizon travesty. Turns out Pete was interviewed for the article - he phoned me and told me about it shortly after the reporter left his dock. He was told at the time that they needed the perspective from a local captain for a few paragraphs in the article. So I was certainly floored to see an article all about Captain Pete's struggle in the face of the tourism drop-off, rather than just a few quotes from him in an article about the greater Keys during this ecological crisis.
It was one of the more fantastic articles I have read from the Times in some time. The writing was true artistry and painted a vivid picture from the first words, describing Captain Pete as having a “cabernet nose.” As I read on, I was truly thrilled by the quality and care the author, Damien Cave, infused into every paragraph.
I was even more surprised as I scrolled down the electronic column and a found a familiar image alongside the test – a screen grab from the commercial, showing Pete’s beaming visage hawking his glorious mustard. In the article right alongside, the story describes how a New York producer came in and made a commercial for Pete. In the text, where it said “an advertisement,” the words were linked directly to… the commercial on my Vimeo site.
Well, that was even niftier!
Here is the New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/02/us/02voice.html
It was nifty enough to get me out of bed and to the corner store to grab their remaining copies with change from my change jar - the only money I had on hand. Like the web page, it featured the screen grab as well. So thousand of people around the world saw Pete's close-up thanks to that shot, even though the New York Times did its usual stellar editorial job by not bothering to credit the image at all.
So all in all, it was a great way to start the day. Granted, this all happened much earlier in the week, and I am only now writing on it. Some may question why I would bother posting this news tidbit in a blog about my documentary. But since my relationship with Capt. Pete began as part of this project, I feel this is a most appropriate venue to show off this little success.
Serendipity indeed. Nifty.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Chapter VI. THE END?
At the outset of this last trip, I had once again defined my working "box". I set a target date of October to complete the show if I came away from Key Largo with enough material. There were several wildlife festivals I wanted to enter in the fall, some of which, though small, might attract potential distributors.
After returning from Florida and reviewing the footage, I am confident that I have enough material to finish "Putting the Pieces Together."
So you would think that with all the frantic logging/transcribing I’ve been doing, I’m preparing to jumping headfirst into the post-production process, integrating the Florida footage with the Indonesia footage. After all, in the last two weeks I’ve transcribed a good hour plus of interviews, accounting for every stutter, um, ah and repetition -a task that takes me about 10 hours to type out for each hour of raw footage.
But I have no plans to finish this any time soon.
Truth be told, I am doing it so I can shelve all the footage for a few months in preparation for a whole new slew of coral video and interviews coming in October. There will be no festival entry this year, in all likelihood. It looks like it will be 2011 for the release.
I have repeatedly blamed serendipity for most of this interesting journey. I describe it in lucking out with underwater shots, in how I met Ken in Florida, and how other odd connections have appeared throughout this journey. I never would have reconnected with an old high school acquaintance without it. I have learned to trust it, like a guiding hand that has greater plans. The completion of Florida wasn’t the end, just another corner to turn.
There’s no way to deny it. One of the things that attract people to underwater documentaries is cinematography that exposes a naïve audience to the richness of the underwater habitat. And my one biggest complaint has been my (in my opinion) sub-par underwater video. Although the Indonesia Biorock shots are passable for, the beauty shots aren't even close to the quality of the more memorable documentaries. The camera and the housing are great for the consumer, but not up to broadcast standards in terms of clarity and colors. I hoped that the shots would work in context with the story so that the the whole becomes greater than the sum of the parts, and the flaws would go mostly unnoticed.
Of course, the moment I saw the video from the HVX-200, I was stunned. It looked so much better, in spite of shooting through an acrylic dome port. My gut instinct on seeing the video for the first time was a wish that I could go to the Pacific once again and shoot beauty shots of coral fields with this camera and housing. But I already knew that its weight was an issue for travel.
The new Equinox housing was a great tool in my arsenal, but its sheer size and weight made it damn near impossible to take internationally; after all, it used 40 pounds of ballast alone. In its current setup, the shipping case is 40 pounds empty. Add another 15 pounds for the housing itself and another 5 for the handles and other assorted pieces, and its 30 pounds over the limit for every airline. And shipping something of that weight internationally, without being able to use a cargo service, costs thousands of dollars.
So I figured that my fantasy of shooting Pacific coral gardens, with their depth of hues and richness of color and life, would not be possible on my budget. It was just prohibitively expensive to do in general, let alone with this housing.
Allow me to take a moment to introduce two people. The first is my cousin George, a well-known dive writer who has been published many times over and written for a variety of magazines. The second is his daughter, my cousins Hannah, who has become my latest angel. I had been planning on doing a vacation with George, Hannah and my father, who doesn’t dive. My father bowed out for health reasons relating to his ear, and the plans went up in smoke.
In the middle of my Florida trip, I get an interesting message from my cousin, asking if I was free in early October and would I be interested in maybe going to Kosrae, a remote part of Micronesia, to dive. She and George had both been invited to be part of a coral survey on the island, and the manager of the resort indicated they might need a videographer as well. I was suddenly very interested.
Over the next few days, it all began sorting itself as I got in touch with the point person in Kosrae at Kosrae Village Resorts. Karina and I spoke at length about their project, my project, and what my participation brings to the table. In the end, I was invited to come along as well. I have always been happy to lend my skills to efforts at improving the coral reefs around the globe, and Karina was happy to put my abilities to good use in exchange for putting me up and taking care of my diving requirements.
I had never heard of Kosrae before. But from what I have learned, I am in for a very, very special time as long as their reefs don’t bleach this late summer. First, its not an easy destination to get to. Total transit one-way from the east coast is nearly 40 hours thanks to a 12 hour layover in Hawaii that is inescapable. There are only three planes that make the run from Honolulu to Guam every week, and this tiny island, all of 40 square miles, is smack in the middle of that service, with more than 140 miles separating it from the nearest landmass.
That’s one reason it never caught on much as a destination. It also seems rather primitive compared to the other islands in this region, like Palau and Yap. The brochures for the resort note that AC is not available in most of the accommodations, and you sleep beneath mosquito netting. That appealed to me immediately - it brought me back to my 5 months in Koh Tao, sleeping in the tropical heat and feeling suffocated beneath the humid nets.
The reefs are supposed to be nearly untouched, relatively speaking, with a rich assortment of Pacific corals ringing this volcanic pinnacle. The main cone reaches several thousand feet into the heavens from a depth of miles below the sea. The fact that it is surrounded by deep ocean keeps the water fairly clear year-around, with visibility typical visibility in excess of 100 feet. This may well be unheard of today in most places, but Karina insists I will see for myself with their turbidity disks. I liked these people already.
The flight out is manageable in terms of cost, when there are no other expenses. But I still have to get my housing out there. Remember when I quoted the thousands it would take to ship by DHL? Fortunately, I found an alternative. Seems that being a US territory has its advantages. You are basically autonomous, but get the benefit of some US government provided services. Which includes the post office.
For $16.95, I can ship up to 70 pounds in a single-rate USPS box to and from Kosrae.
So my shipping concerns are slowly being resolved as I find innovative ways of being the weight down. Like using the USPS. Right now, it looks like I will have to ship the weights out that way and build a hard packing crate for shipping the 25 or so pounds of unweighted housing. That way it can travel on the flight with me.
So it seems like I am destined to spend two and a half weeks in paradise, diving every day and exploring a rarely seen area of the world. I will get a group of scientists I can interview as additional footage to add to the mix, and all the beauty shots I can take the time to shoot.
I will also be providing documentation for the coral survey, and plan on editing daily video blogs so people can keep track of the mission’s progress. Add to this my promise of creating a promo for the village, and you know I will be plenty busy for the entire time I am there. The program runs from October 2-15th, and I need to stay an extra few days to do mop-up work, which means not leaving the island until the 18th.
More info on the trip as it comes in…
The second serendipitous event is even more tantalizing when it comes to delaying editing. As we speak, Ken and Tom are working together on a proposal for a joint effort in Florida. It’s an ambitious project to test Toms technology as a way to increase coral size for transplantation a la Ken’s nursery model.
So think about it for a second… why would I even try to finish up a documentary when there is a good chance that both parties I followed over two years may be joining forces? Its just too good a final act to miss by rushing. This has no timeline as of right now, so who knows where it is going to go. But I will bide my time, forming paper edits and evaluating my needs in terms of other footage.
I am sure by the time I return from Kosrae I will have a better idea of when I can truly begin editing in earnest. Even if they don’t meet, I have a pretty good show, worthy of a nova episode or Nature Channel timeslot. But I need to be patient, and trust in my muse, serendipity.
And so, I wait.
After returning from Florida and reviewing the footage, I am confident that I have enough material to finish "Putting the Pieces Together."
So you would think that with all the frantic logging/transcribing I’ve been doing, I’m preparing to jumping headfirst into the post-production process, integrating the Florida footage with the Indonesia footage. After all, in the last two weeks I’ve transcribed a good hour plus of interviews, accounting for every stutter, um, ah and repetition -a task that takes me about 10 hours to type out for each hour of raw footage.
But I have no plans to finish this any time soon.
Truth be told, I am doing it so I can shelve all the footage for a few months in preparation for a whole new slew of coral video and interviews coming in October. There will be no festival entry this year, in all likelihood. It looks like it will be 2011 for the release.
I have repeatedly blamed serendipity for most of this interesting journey. I describe it in lucking out with underwater shots, in how I met Ken in Florida, and how other odd connections have appeared throughout this journey. I never would have reconnected with an old high school acquaintance without it. I have learned to trust it, like a guiding hand that has greater plans. The completion of Florida wasn’t the end, just another corner to turn.
There’s no way to deny it. One of the things that attract people to underwater documentaries is cinematography that exposes a naïve audience to the richness of the underwater habitat. And my one biggest complaint has been my (in my opinion) sub-par underwater video. Although the Indonesia Biorock shots are passable for, the beauty shots aren't even close to the quality of the more memorable documentaries. The camera and the housing are great for the consumer, but not up to broadcast standards in terms of clarity and colors. I hoped that the shots would work in context with the story so that the the whole becomes greater than the sum of the parts, and the flaws would go mostly unnoticed.
Of course, the moment I saw the video from the HVX-200, I was stunned. It looked so much better, in spite of shooting through an acrylic dome port. My gut instinct on seeing the video for the first time was a wish that I could go to the Pacific once again and shoot beauty shots of coral fields with this camera and housing. But I already knew that its weight was an issue for travel.
The new Equinox housing was a great tool in my arsenal, but its sheer size and weight made it damn near impossible to take internationally; after all, it used 40 pounds of ballast alone. In its current setup, the shipping case is 40 pounds empty. Add another 15 pounds for the housing itself and another 5 for the handles and other assorted pieces, and its 30 pounds over the limit for every airline. And shipping something of that weight internationally, without being able to use a cargo service, costs thousands of dollars.
So I figured that my fantasy of shooting Pacific coral gardens, with their depth of hues and richness of color and life, would not be possible on my budget. It was just prohibitively expensive to do in general, let alone with this housing.
Allow me to take a moment to introduce two people. The first is my cousin George, a well-known dive writer who has been published many times over and written for a variety of magazines. The second is his daughter, my cousins Hannah, who has become my latest angel. I had been planning on doing a vacation with George, Hannah and my father, who doesn’t dive. My father bowed out for health reasons relating to his ear, and the plans went up in smoke.
In the middle of my Florida trip, I get an interesting message from my cousin, asking if I was free in early October and would I be interested in maybe going to Kosrae, a remote part of Micronesia, to dive. She and George had both been invited to be part of a coral survey on the island, and the manager of the resort indicated they might need a videographer as well. I was suddenly very interested.
Over the next few days, it all began sorting itself as I got in touch with the point person in Kosrae at Kosrae Village Resorts. Karina and I spoke at length about their project, my project, and what my participation brings to the table. In the end, I was invited to come along as well. I have always been happy to lend my skills to efforts at improving the coral reefs around the globe, and Karina was happy to put my abilities to good use in exchange for putting me up and taking care of my diving requirements.
I had never heard of Kosrae before. But from what I have learned, I am in for a very, very special time as long as their reefs don’t bleach this late summer. First, its not an easy destination to get to. Total transit one-way from the east coast is nearly 40 hours thanks to a 12 hour layover in Hawaii that is inescapable. There are only three planes that make the run from Honolulu to Guam every week, and this tiny island, all of 40 square miles, is smack in the middle of that service, with more than 140 miles separating it from the nearest landmass.
That’s one reason it never caught on much as a destination. It also seems rather primitive compared to the other islands in this region, like Palau and Yap. The brochures for the resort note that AC is not available in most of the accommodations, and you sleep beneath mosquito netting. That appealed to me immediately - it brought me back to my 5 months in Koh Tao, sleeping in the tropical heat and feeling suffocated beneath the humid nets.
The reefs are supposed to be nearly untouched, relatively speaking, with a rich assortment of Pacific corals ringing this volcanic pinnacle. The main cone reaches several thousand feet into the heavens from a depth of miles below the sea. The fact that it is surrounded by deep ocean keeps the water fairly clear year-around, with visibility typical visibility in excess of 100 feet. This may well be unheard of today in most places, but Karina insists I will see for myself with their turbidity disks. I liked these people already.
The flight out is manageable in terms of cost, when there are no other expenses. But I still have to get my housing out there. Remember when I quoted the thousands it would take to ship by DHL? Fortunately, I found an alternative. Seems that being a US territory has its advantages. You are basically autonomous, but get the benefit of some US government provided services. Which includes the post office.
For $16.95, I can ship up to 70 pounds in a single-rate USPS box to and from Kosrae.
So my shipping concerns are slowly being resolved as I find innovative ways of being the weight down. Like using the USPS. Right now, it looks like I will have to ship the weights out that way and build a hard packing crate for shipping the 25 or so pounds of unweighted housing. That way it can travel on the flight with me.
So it seems like I am destined to spend two and a half weeks in paradise, diving every day and exploring a rarely seen area of the world. I will get a group of scientists I can interview as additional footage to add to the mix, and all the beauty shots I can take the time to shoot.
I will also be providing documentation for the coral survey, and plan on editing daily video blogs so people can keep track of the mission’s progress. Add to this my promise of creating a promo for the village, and you know I will be plenty busy for the entire time I am there. The program runs from October 2-15th, and I need to stay an extra few days to do mop-up work, which means not leaving the island until the 18th.
More info on the trip as it comes in…
The second serendipitous event is even more tantalizing when it comes to delaying editing. As we speak, Ken and Tom are working together on a proposal for a joint effort in Florida. It’s an ambitious project to test Toms technology as a way to increase coral size for transplantation a la Ken’s nursery model.
So think about it for a second… why would I even try to finish up a documentary when there is a good chance that both parties I followed over two years may be joining forces? Its just too good a final act to miss by rushing. This has no timeline as of right now, so who knows where it is going to go. But I will bide my time, forming paper edits and evaluating my needs in terms of other footage.
I am sure by the time I return from Kosrae I will have a better idea of when I can truly begin editing in earnest. Even if they don’t meet, I have a pretty good show, worthy of a nova episode or Nature Channel timeslot. But I need to be patient, and trust in my muse, serendipity.
And so, I wait.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Chapter V. The Side Project
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| From Blogger Pictures |
Why was I awake? I turned my head so I could see the clock, and the answer came to me in the form of a dull, thumping pain that bled out from my eyes through the back of my head and down my neck. I closed my eyes, and the previous evening came back in a painful memory – the après-dive drinking (on an empty stomach) which continued through the mangrove swamps with some top-shelf whisky, passing out just after sunset, and waking sweaty in the night for a few bouts of zealous vomiting. I really meant to eat when we got back from the boat, but Dave’s couch was so comfortable…
Which explained why I was now awake, uncomfortable and achy, with no hope of a return to slumberland.
I’m the sort of person who tends to meet personal challenges head-on and thoughtlessly, especially when it's something that effects me physically. For instance, I have worked through demanding freelance gigs when I had raging flu, and nobody ever thought my performance was below par. (I was very careful to be hygienic, including wiping all camera gear off with alcohol after I used it) So I wasn’t going to let a hangover stop me.
It took a few moments to stand, unsteady, and stumble into the livingroom. Shafts of painful light shot like spears from the massive windows right through my retina. It took a few blinks before I could surge forward to grab a cool glass of iced tea from the fridge. It was a challenge, but it was accomplished. Baby steps, I thought, as my eyes finally started to focus correctly.
Two chilly glasses of iced tea later, I stumbled onto the sun-drenched porch. No clouds stood in the way of the clear morning light as it blasted the Florida scenery into sharp relief. But the wind was already whipping the mangerove branches into a chaotic dance, which meant no hitching a ride to the reefs today. Part of me was relieved; I could dive if I needed to, but feeling like the pit at a smash-up derby was not the best way to dive the morning.
I needed something to distract me, I thought as I returned to the kitchen for hydrating water. I bought a number of 2-gallon jugs of water to flush the housing with while on Captain Pete’s boat. He didn’t have a dunk tank, so I improvised. A few of these were left over and wound up in Dave’s fridge.
Pouring from it, I couldn’t help remembering the unfortunate mustard incident and the feeling I had let Pete down. I remembered there were three jars sitting in the cabinet courtesy the Captain for Dave, Oliver and me, and I noted to make a sandwich with some that afternoon. Maybe that would be my goal for the day…
A return to the porch had me multitasking. My eyes started feasting on the scenery. Dave’s backyard is roomy and sits on a canal, but nothing has been developed in the lot across the water from him. The result is a very private-feeling yard with a backdrop of 20-foot high wild mangroves reaching up from the other side of the canal. A few small bushes on Dave’s dock had a lighter shade of green.
All these deep, verdant shades were offset with the bright warmth from the coral rock spread across the back yard. Staring down from the porch, it felt very representative of the Florida Keys; the two conch shells marking the path to the dock only added to that feeling.
Through the haze of my hangover, I thought of a way to pay Captain Pete for his kindness, and maybe give him something back that was bigger than the one shot we were going to Dry Rocks to get. I saw a product shot in the back of my recharging mind – three jars of Captain Pete’s sitting on a pile of coral rock with blue skies and green mangrove trees making an out-of-focus background.
Okay, it was something to do with the day.
By 9, I had cleared off a utility table from Dave’s workroom and set the three jars into a beautiful product shot, framed on both sides with conch shells. I set up the tripod and framed the camera on the product, and was pretty pleased with the composition, but needed a hand to control a diffusion panel that needed to go right over the top of the entire platform. I had to wait for Ollie.
The hangover had begun to receed and my brain was on-line again.. You could hear the gears grinding if you listened closely enough. And back on the porch, the morning was silent save the occasional whistle of a wind gust through the leaves. I pulled the laptop off the impromptu desk in the guest room and sat back on the porch, looking down on my little assembly. I had an idea, and I started scribbling some thoughts down when I heard Ollie stir.
His first question was whether I felt better. The volume, in terms of loudness and quantity, if my ills the night before alarmed him. When he saw me up and tapping away on the keyboard, he realized the better of his question. I told him to clean up and I would tell him what the day would bring.
He joined me a few minutes later, and I took him downstairs to show him the setup and explain my plans. Since there was likely no diving that day, and no confirmed interviews for the afternoon, we were going to help Captain Pete market his mustard. I spelled out my concept, and asked Ollie if he would help do the print side of it – a master product shot and some ancillary graphics. He was in without so much as a second thought.
I called Pete and reached him on the boat. Keys Diver had him helming a boat of snorklers, but they were not far offshore thanks to the wind. He agreed to come over during his lunch break to see what we had come up with. That left two hours.
First order of business: product shots. Oliver and I went to the setup table with our cameras. For 10 minutes, we each shot the setup while the other controlled the diffusion frame. He shot the stills, I shot the HD.
The next hour has Ollie and me deeply immersed in a Photoshop session, tweaking the crap out of his excellent photography. Playing around with the concept of “sexy, hot mustard,” I had Ollie add the tag line “Starts Sweet, Ends Spicy” to the graphic after the photo was retouched to perfection. Voila! We had a sweet ad.
Pete came in just a few minutes after we wrapped up. His eyes grew wide when he saw the ad for the first time. It was all over his face – we had scored a huge hit. Pete gushed for a few minutes and then I pitched him the idea for a commercial, using double entendres to make his Banana Pepper Mustard the sexiest mustard ever. He loved the concept, so I told him to come back after his afternoon snorkeling trip.
Pete went back to work, and I jumped into scriptwriting. I was fully focused, and couldn’t be interrupted for anything unless it was for the documentary. I think I shushed Ollie off at one point as I wrote a script and refined it. Inside an hour, I had a funny, easy, yet engaging script that might actually sell some mighty tasty mustard! Or at least give it is own brand identity in a world of custom gourmet mustards.
I finished up the script and rejoined Ollie in the kitchen area. He was trying to composite elements from two photos with little success. I forget what he was trying to correct, but I just suggested we re-shoot it all. There was something in the video that I wanted to redo as well. Once again, we went downstairs and spent ten minutes in the brutal midday sun. Ollie applies the same effects again and in no time we had a finished, final version.
Pete came back in the afternoon and without a “mustard girl.” I wasn’t too thrilled with his shirt, so I had him throw on one of my nicer ones. The afternoon sun was streaming straight down Dave’s street, so I decided we would just shoot his solo dialogue immediately and wait until we had a girl to shoot the rest.
It only took Pete a few minutes to warm up to the camera. But once he felt at ease and sensed the fun, he began to let loose, filling the frame with so much personality I couldn’t help but smile behind the camera. I kept ramping him up, egging him on to be bigger and louder with each take – and he followed directions with a smile on his face the whole time. After burning 10 minutes of video, I ran back upstairs, loaded the p2 card into the laptop and started editing.
Ten minutes after that, I showed Pete a quick edit of his narration, which pretty much blew him away. I insisted we get a “mustard girl” and finish it that night – I was going to be working the following few days, so I wanted to do this and get it done and over with. We only had about 2 hours until we lost the sunlight, so Pete set off to find some girls he knew while I went over to Sundowners in search of a potential mustard girl. I had met a few of the waitstaff before, and two stick out in my mind –but neither really wanted to go on camera.
About this time, Dave came home from Boston. He and Pete were friends, and Dave is so good-natured and helpful in general that I wasn’t too concerned about explaining it to him. Sure enough, he was game to host the rest of the shoot. Pete and the “mustard girl” came with their entourage in tow.
Jessica, our mustard girl, was game for it after the concept was explained. Her only comment was a warning to me – I’d better make her look good and it had better not be done tastelessly. I promised on both counts.
I shot a scene with her and Pete first, then concentrated just on her part of the script in the waning light. I stopped filming when I lost exposure, and we did her voice overs. The material was so funny when you understood it in context that she kept laughing out loud at the words she was using.
Dave entertained the bunch while I backed up and imported the footage into FCP on my laptop. This was the first time I ever tried editing DVCProHD footage on the laptop off an external drive, and I found out it was easy to do in spite of the bandwidth requirements. I showed off a few of the outtakes after everything was done.
Pete, Jessica and her entourage took off to Sharkeys while I pressed on with the editing. It had become a bit of a mission – make a full spot in a day, conception to approved editorial. I spent an hour until I felt I had accomplished this goal to the minimum acceptable quality for same-day use.
Sharkey’s was pretty packed when I finally got there. Pete had tied quite a few on and was having quite a good time, so he was looking forward to seeing the edit. We stepped outside where it was quieter and I played the spot down. Even though he was drunk, Pete knew it was a winner and cheered the results.
Back in the bar I showed the video and some of the raw footage around for a few minutes, and everyone had a good laugh. I left and turned in early. After all, I had spent the day basically recovering from a killer hangover and was exhausted.
Truth be told, the film wasn’t really “finished” until my flight home a few days later. I had a full battery on my laptop and two hours in-flight with nothing to do, so my plan was to finish all the fine-tuning on the editorial, and shoot a finished version to Pete when I got in to work.
And I did.
Here’s the commercial:
Captain Pete's Banana Pepper Mustard from Seth Greenspan on Vimeo.
The mustard itself is pretty damn unique. Be warned, this stuff is only for people who like hot stuff ad enjoy experiencing those overtones that heat brings out in food. It’s a combination of mustard, banana peppers and other spices. The banana pepper is known for its sweet flavor, so the first thing you notice when you taste the mustard is this light sweetness that develops into a wonderfully delicious heat that amps up the flavor on just about anything. The website can be found here. I’m also developing a series of recipes for this mustard – from sauces to marinades to entrée’s, so stay tuned to see some of my culinary skills in action.
I plan on traveling to Florida at least one more time this year… And I expect that when I am down, Pete and I will continue this escapade and thro together a few more spicy commercials for Catain Pete’s Banana Pepper Mustard. The sweet heat for your meat!
Traveling to Florida? AGAIN?
Sounds like a perfect segue to the next chapter…
Monday, June 14, 2010
Chapter IV. Florida People
By comparison, there were only a few new people who became involved on this go-around. Most people I spent time with I had been introduced to on previous visits. For instance, Carlie and Leslie invited Dave and I to join them on a fun dive on the SS Spiegel, a more than 500’ long Marine Landing Craft that was sunk to create an artificial reef and a destination for divers. I met people like Captain Pete and Captain Slate before in social situations, like taverns or the Christmas boat parade.
The new people were mostly the Southern Keys interviews and Oliver. There were a few others along the way as well, including people who became involved in the side project. But I thought I would take a few paragraphs to give some “shout out’s,” as well as offer a few more thoughts on some familiar characters in this story to date.
There were a few things I wanted to ask Captain Slate, but our limited time together kept me from going off on tangents… I was pretty sure I had seen him doing his “Creature Feature” on some early 80s TV shows like “That’s Incredible” or “Ripley’s Believe it or Not” and those ilk. I remember thinking how amazing it must be to interact with fish like he did. It was those little portals into undersea life from television shows that developed my interest in “one day” SCUBA diving. As a child, I never thought I would actually be doing it, but I loved watching underwater documentaries and thumbed through National Georgraphic whenever an issue showed a little more of that fascinating world.
And now I am doing it.
So I might have to thank Captain Slate for setting me on this path years ago, when I was a young boy watching a small black and white television with wide eyes and a fanciful imagination.
I mentioned to a diving friend of mine that I was interviewing Captain Slate. His reaction was rather negative, but not for the reasons you might expect, such as politics or a personal relationship. See, Captain Slate feeds baitfish to rather impressive barracuda – from his hands and mouth – for the amusemement of his customers. My friend lost his pinky to a barracuda in the Caribbean a few years ago. The ‘cuda had been getting fed by the local park rangers to amuse people, and must have mistaken his digit for a meal. So I can understand his distaste, but these are risks we take every day we dive. It’s a wild environment, and shit happens in the jungle, even if the jungle is under water. Captain Slate just likes taking it a step further. It’s a shame I didn’t have the time to dive with him this go-around.
There were also several people who were involved in the side project that evolved from the mustard incident at Dry Rocks. First and foremost, Captain Pete. What went from a “can you do this for me” relationship of a client and service personnel became a “how can I help you” relationship of fast friends.
Pete’s one of those fellas that has a few really good stories to tell, and a bunch of even better stories that are probably troubling and will never be revealed unless you can out-drink him. And trust me, you can’t, so those tales remain forever locked away. But Pete is a good egg with the kind of generous heart and do-it-yourself enthusiasm that pervades his startup business as a mustard maven.
I first met him at a bar, and possibly a brunch, in one of my previous visits. We were reintroduced at Keys Diver when I first came in to say hi to Rob, the owner and supporter. We stood around in the parking lot of his shop as I extracted the 100-plus pound case from the trunk and opened it to show off the huge housing. Pete was curious about it right off, as was another divemaster who worked with Rob and also played with some underwater video. Right from the first explanation, Pete was charged with making sure I was taken care of in Rob’s absence. He had to take care of a boat he had up North. He is Canadian, after all.
During much of this trip, my buddy Dave was away and I was in charge of his house. Pete became the de facto entertainment point person in Dave’s absence. Oliver and I started hanging with him almost every night at Sharkey’s, the local dive that serves old-fashioned supergreasy comfort food until late with live music a few nights a week. If you like barbecue with extra grease, you will love their special bar burger.
Quite a few evenings were spent with Oliver and Pete going head to head at one of the poll tables. The two are closely matched, and both are obvious sharks when you get to know them, so they had a great time playing into the wee hours. Oliver and I were invited over to Pete’s pad one night where he fried up some fresh mahi mahi a neighbor gave him, and we entertained Pete at Dave’s place several times.
As the friendship with Pete developed into the side project, a few other folks wound up getting involved. Most importantly, Jess – or the “mustard girl.” Quite funny and a really good sport, Jess helped fill a really important role in this project. And I think she had a lot of fun doing it as well. I didn’t get a chance to thank her enough for jumping in with both feet, and hope she knows how grateful I am.
A big thanks to her boyfriend Mike as well. As an anonymous person remarked, “you see her and you instantly feel yourself attracted to her, cursing out whoever her boyfriend is and expecting a jerk. But then you meet Mike and the guy is just so damn likable you go from jealousy to ‘they deserve each other’.” The sources of this quote will remain a mystery.
There were also a few other people we tried to enlist for this side project, but who weren’t able to participate. Namely Tiffany and Brianna. There might be more opportunities in the future to help out as a mustard girl. Hopefully we’ll all connect for the next spot.
I also want to thank a different anonymous person. He’s another local mariner, and even acknowledging when we spoke that he could get in trouble at work if people knew what he was telling me. And the story he told me was frightening and compelling. His job was to know the reefs and how they looked intimately. And by seeing the same ones so often, he could chart as individual areas of hard corals, hundred of years old and meters wide per head, as they died off. His cadence and speaking voice were the most haunting of anyone I spoke with. Here was a man who has watched the very attraction that earns him his living slip away with each warmer summer.
His prognosis was grim. He doesn’t see the corals surviving another 20 years, and expects marketing in the Keys to push wreck diving over reef diving in the near future. He stubbed out a cigarette as he pondered the burden of an expanding population fighting for fewer natural marine resources as hard coral reefs, affected by elevated sea surface temperatures, bleach and die out in epidemic fashion. His hung-dog eyes showed the frustration as he told me how the events unfolded, and the whole time I wished I could get him on camera.
I’d comment more on Oliver, but he’s got his own damn chapter. Don’t want to give the goofball an ego trip. Let me just say he should check his air gauge more often, especially at the beginning of deep dives.
Carlie and Leslie are another couple I really enjoy spending time with. Carlie has an inquisitive nature and a nose for problem-solving, so we get along fantastically. Invariably, if Carlie was coming over for ten minutes to look at something, he wouldn’t leave until Leslie called him to drag him away an hour later, and in that time we would have found 8 different ways to improve three different gear setups. We definitely share a common passion for gadgets, diving, underwater video, and gadgets for diving and underwater video.
Leslie is a saint for putting up with our shennanigans. She is adorable and sharp as a tack, and has been a willing helper on a few occassions – as well as doing some modeling for the camera. Underwater, she has a knack for spotting wildlife well before the rest of us can see it. Her sharp eyes led my camera to a few neat subjects.
Carlie also further innovated on some ideas I had brought down last time. He took the idea of using a horizontal fin for a stabilizer on a camera with a narrow grip between handles, like had been done for the borrowed camera and housing that I was using before, and created a platform that his entire video rig is build around. It also gave him a convenient way of keeping his attachments and pieces well organized underwater.
I am hoping to dive with them again later this year, deep in the Pacific. More details on that coming up…
Dave Valaika, from the Pennsylvania dive center called Indian Valley SCUBA (check out the link in the sidebars) is a recurring character in this tale as well. One thing about Dave, which I have never mentioned before, is that I enjoy watching him dive. He moves with such a sense of liberation as he moves and twists through passages around the structures.
Many better divers work on a minimalist form to keep their breathing slow and maximize bottom time that they move like stealthy darts through the water column. Dave is the opposite. He seems to take joy in the freedom of movement possible through the weightlessness of diving in a way that reminds me of my own silly group of divemaster trainees in Thailand that used dive with that same abandon.
More than once, I have discovered him by accident on a wreck. Usually he is coming up from below me and I become shrouded in his bubbles for a moemnt. Which is why I have taken to calling him “Bubbles.” Only a top-notch male diver could pull off a nickname like that with style. If you ever met Dave, you know what I mean when I say it fits him.
And I can’t forget… oh, crap, I did forget. But maybe David Hartman can remind me the good doctor’s name. One of the pioneers of recreational nitrox diving , this doctor sits out in front of his hyperbaric chamber training facility with a cooler of beer on weekend afternoon and evenings. He also had some great stories about the reefs before the changes in the 1980s. I have spent a few weekends sipping a miller light or similar, listening to him spin mildly inebriated yarns of historic research in diving medicine. He is a Key Largo citizen through and through, reflecting the character of the laid back yet well educated professional with a strong self of self-determination.
And if that gorgeous waitress with the most dangerous eyes named Natasha ever reads this blog, drop me a line.
The new people were mostly the Southern Keys interviews and Oliver. There were a few others along the way as well, including people who became involved in the side project. But I thought I would take a few paragraphs to give some “shout out’s,” as well as offer a few more thoughts on some familiar characters in this story to date.
There were a few things I wanted to ask Captain Slate, but our limited time together kept me from going off on tangents… I was pretty sure I had seen him doing his “Creature Feature” on some early 80s TV shows like “That’s Incredible” or “Ripley’s Believe it or Not” and those ilk. I remember thinking how amazing it must be to interact with fish like he did. It was those little portals into undersea life from television shows that developed my interest in “one day” SCUBA diving. As a child, I never thought I would actually be doing it, but I loved watching underwater documentaries and thumbed through National Georgraphic whenever an issue showed a little more of that fascinating world.
And now I am doing it.
So I might have to thank Captain Slate for setting me on this path years ago, when I was a young boy watching a small black and white television with wide eyes and a fanciful imagination.
I mentioned to a diving friend of mine that I was interviewing Captain Slate. His reaction was rather negative, but not for the reasons you might expect, such as politics or a personal relationship. See, Captain Slate feeds baitfish to rather impressive barracuda – from his hands and mouth – for the amusemement of his customers. My friend lost his pinky to a barracuda in the Caribbean a few years ago. The ‘cuda had been getting fed by the local park rangers to amuse people, and must have mistaken his digit for a meal. So I can understand his distaste, but these are risks we take every day we dive. It’s a wild environment, and shit happens in the jungle, even if the jungle is under water. Captain Slate just likes taking it a step further. It’s a shame I didn’t have the time to dive with him this go-around.
There were also several people who were involved in the side project that evolved from the mustard incident at Dry Rocks. First and foremost, Captain Pete. What went from a “can you do this for me” relationship of a client and service personnel became a “how can I help you” relationship of fast friends.
Pete’s one of those fellas that has a few really good stories to tell, and a bunch of even better stories that are probably troubling and will never be revealed unless you can out-drink him. And trust me, you can’t, so those tales remain forever locked away. But Pete is a good egg with the kind of generous heart and do-it-yourself enthusiasm that pervades his startup business as a mustard maven.
I first met him at a bar, and possibly a brunch, in one of my previous visits. We were reintroduced at Keys Diver when I first came in to say hi to Rob, the owner and supporter. We stood around in the parking lot of his shop as I extracted the 100-plus pound case from the trunk and opened it to show off the huge housing. Pete was curious about it right off, as was another divemaster who worked with Rob and also played with some underwater video. Right from the first explanation, Pete was charged with making sure I was taken care of in Rob’s absence. He had to take care of a boat he had up North. He is Canadian, after all.
During much of this trip, my buddy Dave was away and I was in charge of his house. Pete became the de facto entertainment point person in Dave’s absence. Oliver and I started hanging with him almost every night at Sharkey’s, the local dive that serves old-fashioned supergreasy comfort food until late with live music a few nights a week. If you like barbecue with extra grease, you will love their special bar burger.
Quite a few evenings were spent with Oliver and Pete going head to head at one of the poll tables. The two are closely matched, and both are obvious sharks when you get to know them, so they had a great time playing into the wee hours. Oliver and I were invited over to Pete’s pad one night where he fried up some fresh mahi mahi a neighbor gave him, and we entertained Pete at Dave’s place several times.
As the friendship with Pete developed into the side project, a few other folks wound up getting involved. Most importantly, Jess – or the “mustard girl.” Quite funny and a really good sport, Jess helped fill a really important role in this project. And I think she had a lot of fun doing it as well. I didn’t get a chance to thank her enough for jumping in with both feet, and hope she knows how grateful I am.
A big thanks to her boyfriend Mike as well. As an anonymous person remarked, “you see her and you instantly feel yourself attracted to her, cursing out whoever her boyfriend is and expecting a jerk. But then you meet Mike and the guy is just so damn likable you go from jealousy to ‘they deserve each other’.” The sources of this quote will remain a mystery.
There were also a few other people we tried to enlist for this side project, but who weren’t able to participate. Namely Tiffany and Brianna. There might be more opportunities in the future to help out as a mustard girl. Hopefully we’ll all connect for the next spot.
I also want to thank a different anonymous person. He’s another local mariner, and even acknowledging when we spoke that he could get in trouble at work if people knew what he was telling me. And the story he told me was frightening and compelling. His job was to know the reefs and how they looked intimately. And by seeing the same ones so often, he could chart as individual areas of hard corals, hundred of years old and meters wide per head, as they died off. His cadence and speaking voice were the most haunting of anyone I spoke with. Here was a man who has watched the very attraction that earns him his living slip away with each warmer summer.
His prognosis was grim. He doesn’t see the corals surviving another 20 years, and expects marketing in the Keys to push wreck diving over reef diving in the near future. He stubbed out a cigarette as he pondered the burden of an expanding population fighting for fewer natural marine resources as hard coral reefs, affected by elevated sea surface temperatures, bleach and die out in epidemic fashion. His hung-dog eyes showed the frustration as he told me how the events unfolded, and the whole time I wished I could get him on camera.
I’d comment more on Oliver, but he’s got his own damn chapter. Don’t want to give the goofball an ego trip. Let me just say he should check his air gauge more often, especially at the beginning of deep dives.
Carlie and Leslie are another couple I really enjoy spending time with. Carlie has an inquisitive nature and a nose for problem-solving, so we get along fantastically. Invariably, if Carlie was coming over for ten minutes to look at something, he wouldn’t leave until Leslie called him to drag him away an hour later, and in that time we would have found 8 different ways to improve three different gear setups. We definitely share a common passion for gadgets, diving, underwater video, and gadgets for diving and underwater video.
Leslie is a saint for putting up with our shennanigans. She is adorable and sharp as a tack, and has been a willing helper on a few occassions – as well as doing some modeling for the camera. Underwater, she has a knack for spotting wildlife well before the rest of us can see it. Her sharp eyes led my camera to a few neat subjects.
Carlie also further innovated on some ideas I had brought down last time. He took the idea of using a horizontal fin for a stabilizer on a camera with a narrow grip between handles, like had been done for the borrowed camera and housing that I was using before, and created a platform that his entire video rig is build around. It also gave him a convenient way of keeping his attachments and pieces well organized underwater.
I am hoping to dive with them again later this year, deep in the Pacific. More details on that coming up…
Dave Valaika, from the Pennsylvania dive center called Indian Valley SCUBA (check out the link in the sidebars) is a recurring character in this tale as well. One thing about Dave, which I have never mentioned before, is that I enjoy watching him dive. He moves with such a sense of liberation as he moves and twists through passages around the structures.
Many better divers work on a minimalist form to keep their breathing slow and maximize bottom time that they move like stealthy darts through the water column. Dave is the opposite. He seems to take joy in the freedom of movement possible through the weightlessness of diving in a way that reminds me of my own silly group of divemaster trainees in Thailand that used dive with that same abandon.
More than once, I have discovered him by accident on a wreck. Usually he is coming up from below me and I become shrouded in his bubbles for a moemnt. Which is why I have taken to calling him “Bubbles.” Only a top-notch male diver could pull off a nickname like that with style. If you ever met Dave, you know what I mean when I say it fits him.
And I can’t forget… oh, crap, I did forget. But maybe David Hartman can remind me the good doctor’s name. One of the pioneers of recreational nitrox diving , this doctor sits out in front of his hyperbaric chamber training facility with a cooler of beer on weekend afternoon and evenings. He also had some great stories about the reefs before the changes in the 1980s. I have spent a few weekends sipping a miller light or similar, listening to him spin mildly inebriated yarns of historic research in diving medicine. He is a Key Largo citizen through and through, reflecting the character of the laid back yet well educated professional with a strong self of self-determination.
And if that gorgeous waitress with the most dangerous eyes named Natasha ever reads this blog, drop me a line.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Chapter III. The Production Assistant
Right from the start, I wanted to do this project on my own, nuts to bolts. I wanted to prove to myself, and to others, that a single person could effectively put together a broadcast quality, effective documentary with today’s technology.
That was when I expected a single visit to Indonesia would suffice to tell the story.
This trip to Florida would be the fifth major trip for the program. And I admit, I was getting tired. Dare I say my age and lack of physical athleticism have caught up with me. I have a spinal injury that causes pain and numbness in my right shoulder and right hand. It’s chronic, and has become more of a pain issue in the last few months.
I decided to find a production assistant or two who could help me out. So I posted an ad for a production assistant through the University of Miami’s career development department. For the most part, the people who answered the listing were looking just for the experience of assisting with underwater video. When I wrote back in a mass email explaining that there was also topside service required, I received few replies back.
Only two people made the cut. First was Oliver, a graduate of Full Sail, whom I should have realized was not an American simply because he was exceptionally polite in his communication with me and had a true “go-getting” attitude. He lived in Orlando, but was willing to grab a motel on his own account just to be a part of my shoot. Honestly, how could I turn down someone with that kind of dedication to a project that isn’t his own?
The second was a girl who shall remain unnamed, who had no interest in diving but seemed extremely enthusiastic about the project, telling me in her cover letter that she had wanted to do a show on this topic herself but never had the resources. She also made it a point to tell me how reliable she was in terms of production duties. She seemed like a perfect addition to the team; but right at the beginning, I had to let her go.
Out of the blue, after several weeks of discussing the three days of production scheduled for Key West the first weekend, she changed her mind about traveling; the day before we were leaving; at diner time; by email.
I texted her immediately, and offered her the opportunity to speak about it. In that hour, I reached Oliver. Again, his enthusiasm was genuinely surprising. He told me he was willing to give up three paid days to work with me. Highly sensitive to the fact that he would be leaving a job, he assured me he had three or four names that could replace him.
An hour after I texted her, I decided to make Oliver my sole production assistant. She called ten minutes too late, and it went to voicemail, where her association with this production ended.
She has been to this site and might even read this blog. So please let me offer a few words of advice, since I feel people should learn from their mistakes. First, in this industry, it is common courtesy to give at least 48 hours notice if you change your mind. If it is under 48 hours, especially if it’s under 24, you do what Oliver did: replace yourself if at all possible. And finally, never, under any circumstances, cancel by email if you expect to do any work for that person; you do it personally or by phone.
But, on the positive side, Oliver was a great member of the team. True to his word, he was there the very next day, a few hours early. He had cranked down from Orlando bright and early, which left us time to get acquainted before packing everything into the rental car. His enthusiasm was certainly catching. David, without ever being asked about it, decided he liked Oliver right off and offered to let him stay in his second guest room. This made everything more convenient and kept me from feeling a little guilty about Oliver paying for his own lodging.
If you took a quick look at Oliver, your first impression might be that he is Hispanic, perhaps Dominican. He is a dark tan brown with dark hair and piercing green eyes. He’s been accused of being Pakistani or Arabic, and often Greek. Truth is he is Swedish, but originally from Poland. You would never guess.
The drive down to Key West was a great chance to learn more about my new assistant. One thing I was certainly curious about was his motivation to drop paying work to join me on my hairbrained show. He had an agenda in mind – his own documentary.
Turns out that Oliver is working towards putting together a film on shark finning. It’s a subject that he is truly passionate about, and is in the process of developing a trailer to help in the effort to find funding. He wanted to be part of an underwater documentary in order to learn how to do it for himself. In that case, he sure earned an education if he made a mental note of all the things I did wrong!
I’ve made the Key West drive on several occasions. At that time of night, US1 is a slow and lonely 100-mile roadway from Key Largo to mile marker 0. The temptation to open up the throttle is always sitting heavy on the toes, but the county sheriff shoots more radar down this road than a wing of fighter jets could, so patience is key. And good company helps.
Before long, we were talking drums, diving, music, diving, filmmaking, our respective projects, diving… he was also a bit of a musician and a photographer. The easy conversation made the miles slide by, even in the 35 mph zones. We were at the condo before we knew it.
Over the next several days, he proved to be an able helper as well, willing to take charge of equipment and SCUBA gear organization before and after the dive, and other basic tasks which I listed in he job description. It took me a until this trip to realize how difficult it was to set everything up while going through a pre-interview, and then operating the camera while making sure the subject had an eye-line to talk with. That sort of one-man approach paid off with mixed results.
For instance, all of Tom Goreau’s interviews have him looking from the lens to an imaginary eye line, back and forth, throughout. I had to stand on the other side of the camera to operate it. Not having a person to talk to, and having to imagine an eye-line can be very distracting to an unexperienced interviewee. So having a semblance of a team, even if it’s just someone to set up the camera and a reflector so I can concentrate on dealing with the talent, was a huge help.
I learned that I had to be careful going out with Oliver. He had a real love of something called a Jaeger Bomb, and insisted on sharing that passion during the evening bar runs. He’s also one hell of a pool player, the kind who has probably hustled his way cross-country at one point or another.
It’s a good thing we liked each other, because we spent ten days working and living in close proximity. Granted, we both knew it was one of the most choice production assistant gigs ever – the work was easy, demands were few, there was SCUBA diving plus plenty of sunshine and mellow days. The hardest thing to do was deal with periods of nothing while waited for the weather to clear. In fact, we wound up with several days with nothing to do.
Dave’s house is on a canal that leads out to Pennekamp state park, a collection of mangrove swamps and artificial beaches that had campgrounds and nature walks scattered about. Dave didn’t have a boat, but he did have a nifty, inflatable kayak that was made for near-shore diving, and was equipped to hold dive gear and two people. On several nights, we used the tie-downs to hold a cooler of beer instead of a tank and spent the late afternoon paddling through the mangroves and around the park, practicing out drinking.
Our first trip out, we passed under a wooden bridge and startled a rather large stingray that was chilling out in the shadow beneath the roadway. Admittedly, Oliver wound up doing most of the paddling. My shoulder was still bothering me, and I didn’t want to strain it.
There was a moment where I saw my own past reflected in Oliver’s actions. I was standing in the open door at Dave’s house, enjoying the breeze, when Oliver grabbed his camera and told me not to move. He started snapping away, with the resultant photo now my profile picture on Facebook. If I were wearing a shirt, it would be a professional portrait.
I asked him what made him grab the camera, and he told me that the light was perfect and he needed to capture it. I’ve usually been on the other side of the camera when that kind of inspiration hits. It was interesting being the subject for a change. But I knew just where he was coming from.
I had the chance to work with him as partners in a creative venture that was spurned on by my guilt at not packing the mustard well for Pete at Dry Rocks, and as a desire to do something interesting and creative to get over a raging hangover. The entire episode is outlined in the upcoming chapter, The Side Project. Oliver did some fantastic photo work for it, as well as showed off his Photoshop chops.
Ultimately, I made the right choices for a change. And I thank Oliver for all his hard work and effort on behalf of my production, as well as the great production stills he snapped when he wasn't on a task. He can be part of my production team any time.
That was when I expected a single visit to Indonesia would suffice to tell the story.
This trip to Florida would be the fifth major trip for the program. And I admit, I was getting tired. Dare I say my age and lack of physical athleticism have caught up with me. I have a spinal injury that causes pain and numbness in my right shoulder and right hand. It’s chronic, and has become more of a pain issue in the last few months.
I decided to find a production assistant or two who could help me out. So I posted an ad for a production assistant through the University of Miami’s career development department. For the most part, the people who answered the listing were looking just for the experience of assisting with underwater video. When I wrote back in a mass email explaining that there was also topside service required, I received few replies back.
Only two people made the cut. First was Oliver, a graduate of Full Sail, whom I should have realized was not an American simply because he was exceptionally polite in his communication with me and had a true “go-getting” attitude. He lived in Orlando, but was willing to grab a motel on his own account just to be a part of my shoot. Honestly, how could I turn down someone with that kind of dedication to a project that isn’t his own?
The second was a girl who shall remain unnamed, who had no interest in diving but seemed extremely enthusiastic about the project, telling me in her cover letter that she had wanted to do a show on this topic herself but never had the resources. She also made it a point to tell me how reliable she was in terms of production duties. She seemed like a perfect addition to the team; but right at the beginning, I had to let her go.
Out of the blue, after several weeks of discussing the three days of production scheduled for Key West the first weekend, she changed her mind about traveling; the day before we were leaving; at diner time; by email.
I texted her immediately, and offered her the opportunity to speak about it. In that hour, I reached Oliver. Again, his enthusiasm was genuinely surprising. He told me he was willing to give up three paid days to work with me. Highly sensitive to the fact that he would be leaving a job, he assured me he had three or four names that could replace him.
An hour after I texted her, I decided to make Oliver my sole production assistant. She called ten minutes too late, and it went to voicemail, where her association with this production ended.
She has been to this site and might even read this blog. So please let me offer a few words of advice, since I feel people should learn from their mistakes. First, in this industry, it is common courtesy to give at least 48 hours notice if you change your mind. If it is under 48 hours, especially if it’s under 24, you do what Oliver did: replace yourself if at all possible. And finally, never, under any circumstances, cancel by email if you expect to do any work for that person; you do it personally or by phone.
But, on the positive side, Oliver was a great member of the team. True to his word, he was there the very next day, a few hours early. He had cranked down from Orlando bright and early, which left us time to get acquainted before packing everything into the rental car. His enthusiasm was certainly catching. David, without ever being asked about it, decided he liked Oliver right off and offered to let him stay in his second guest room. This made everything more convenient and kept me from feeling a little guilty about Oliver paying for his own lodging.
If you took a quick look at Oliver, your first impression might be that he is Hispanic, perhaps Dominican. He is a dark tan brown with dark hair and piercing green eyes. He’s been accused of being Pakistani or Arabic, and often Greek. Truth is he is Swedish, but originally from Poland. You would never guess.
The drive down to Key West was a great chance to learn more about my new assistant. One thing I was certainly curious about was his motivation to drop paying work to join me on my hairbrained show. He had an agenda in mind – his own documentary.
Turns out that Oliver is working towards putting together a film on shark finning. It’s a subject that he is truly passionate about, and is in the process of developing a trailer to help in the effort to find funding. He wanted to be part of an underwater documentary in order to learn how to do it for himself. In that case, he sure earned an education if he made a mental note of all the things I did wrong!
I’ve made the Key West drive on several occasions. At that time of night, US1 is a slow and lonely 100-mile roadway from Key Largo to mile marker 0. The temptation to open up the throttle is always sitting heavy on the toes, but the county sheriff shoots more radar down this road than a wing of fighter jets could, so patience is key. And good company helps.
Before long, we were talking drums, diving, music, diving, filmmaking, our respective projects, diving… he was also a bit of a musician and a photographer. The easy conversation made the miles slide by, even in the 35 mph zones. We were at the condo before we knew it.
Over the next several days, he proved to be an able helper as well, willing to take charge of equipment and SCUBA gear organization before and after the dive, and other basic tasks which I listed in he job description. It took me a until this trip to realize how difficult it was to set everything up while going through a pre-interview, and then operating the camera while making sure the subject had an eye-line to talk with. That sort of one-man approach paid off with mixed results.
For instance, all of Tom Goreau’s interviews have him looking from the lens to an imaginary eye line, back and forth, throughout. I had to stand on the other side of the camera to operate it. Not having a person to talk to, and having to imagine an eye-line can be very distracting to an unexperienced interviewee. So having a semblance of a team, even if it’s just someone to set up the camera and a reflector so I can concentrate on dealing with the talent, was a huge help.
I learned that I had to be careful going out with Oliver. He had a real love of something called a Jaeger Bomb, and insisted on sharing that passion during the evening bar runs. He’s also one hell of a pool player, the kind who has probably hustled his way cross-country at one point or another.
It’s a good thing we liked each other, because we spent ten days working and living in close proximity. Granted, we both knew it was one of the most choice production assistant gigs ever – the work was easy, demands were few, there was SCUBA diving plus plenty of sunshine and mellow days. The hardest thing to do was deal with periods of nothing while waited for the weather to clear. In fact, we wound up with several days with nothing to do.
Dave’s house is on a canal that leads out to Pennekamp state park, a collection of mangrove swamps and artificial beaches that had campgrounds and nature walks scattered about. Dave didn’t have a boat, but he did have a nifty, inflatable kayak that was made for near-shore diving, and was equipped to hold dive gear and two people. On several nights, we used the tie-downs to hold a cooler of beer instead of a tank and spent the late afternoon paddling through the mangroves and around the park, practicing out drinking.
Our first trip out, we passed under a wooden bridge and startled a rather large stingray that was chilling out in the shadow beneath the roadway. Admittedly, Oliver wound up doing most of the paddling. My shoulder was still bothering me, and I didn’t want to strain it.
There was a moment where I saw my own past reflected in Oliver’s actions. I was standing in the open door at Dave’s house, enjoying the breeze, when Oliver grabbed his camera and told me not to move. He started snapping away, with the resultant photo now my profile picture on Facebook. If I were wearing a shirt, it would be a professional portrait.
I asked him what made him grab the camera, and he told me that the light was perfect and he needed to capture it. I’ve usually been on the other side of the camera when that kind of inspiration hits. It was interesting being the subject for a change. But I knew just where he was coming from.
I had the chance to work with him as partners in a creative venture that was spurned on by my guilt at not packing the mustard well for Pete at Dry Rocks, and as a desire to do something interesting and creative to get over a raging hangover. The entire episode is outlined in the upcoming chapter, The Side Project. Oliver did some fantastic photo work for it, as well as showed off his Photoshop chops.
Ultimately, I made the right choices for a change. And I thank Oliver for all his hard work and effort on behalf of my production, as well as the great production stills he snapped when he wasn't on a task. He can be part of my production team any time.
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