Swamp Horrors at Caddo Lake
Typical group of photographer scoundrels.
I just returned from giving my first photography workshops. I have led short term “workshops” in the past and paid guided trips, but this would be back to back to back workshops. That brings in a whole new level of requirements for quality of experience, photographic results and teaching. Many non-photographers have heard of the Atchafalaya Basin or Okefenokee Swamp, but Caddo Lake, on the border of Texas and Louisiana, is what attracts hundreds of photographers in early November to witness and capture the fall colors of bald cypress trees. They also learn that Bigfoot has been reportedly frequents the area, the alligators are mostly in hiding and tripods don’t work all that well from boats.
Planning for the “Mood of the Swamp” was seemingly thorough and impeccable. Two years of prior visitation for research, detailed spread sheets, luxury automobiles mixed with southern breakfasts, exciting boat rides mixed with lazy kayak paddles, and southern hospitality mixed with a few rednecks were all in the works. My knowledge of this swamp had even been used as contributions to the Photographers Guide to Caddo Lake, clear proof of perfect preparation.
Above: One of our boat captains with our photographers searching for the best light and compositions. Photo by Orlando Morantes
So all went well. Except for one thing. I arrived at the car rental center to pick up the prepaid reservation only to be told my license had expired. What?! How can a license not expire on your birthday? In fact it had expired on my wife Barbara’s birthday which was really weird. This was just two days before my arrival in Texas. Even stranger, I had paid the state of Arizona $35 just a few weeks prior to have my license replaced after my wallet was stolen without even noticing the strange expiration date. It seems that the habit I had formed over 50 years of driving had been replaced by one that defers to the travel ID guidelines.
Not only could I not drive, but Avis said they could no longer honor my prepaid reservation. Now I was in a fix. An arrhythmia set in, my face flushed, my stomach turned. It is these times when you expect to throw up, pass out and scream all at once. Robert Burns said it well. “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft a-gley.” I was expected to meet most of the participants at DFW over the next couple of hours. Then we would make the three hour drive filled with anticipation and excited conversation. Ladies, men actually do talk when left to themselves, but there was a lady photographer with us easily filled in the voids.
Beautiful swamp scene by Bob Shea.
When you are in a mess, it’s best to confess. One of the participants arrived early at DFW. I immediately called him and shared the predicament. What a rescuer he was! He hustled over to the car rental center, put up his credit card for collateral and agreed to be the conscripted driver for the next five days. He was a hero. The show would go on! Thankfully, equally heroic volunteers stepped up to reserve and drive our vehicles for the second and third sessions. The relief was measurable and immeasurable all at once.
The rest is history. Each of the three sessions experienced different photographic conditions. There was rain. There was fog. There were sunrises and sunsets. There was Spanish moss blowing in the breeze and there were glassy reflections. There were eagles, egrets, herons, osprey, kingfishers, ibis and owls. There were greens and yellows and oranges and reds. There were Yonqupin lilies, spatterdock and cypress knees. There was biscuits and gravy, gumbo, shrimp creole and Texas beef. The participants photographed everything. Some took over 3000 images in just four full days of shooting. Boat rides were not just boat rides but thrilling backwater adventures tilting first at 30 degrees one way, then 30 degrees the other way as the captain skillfully piloted through narrow sloughs. Speeding through a gap between bald cypress trees no more than a foot wider than the boat was far more exciting than the final drop at Splash Mountain. The photo crew had huge smiles on their faces.
White Ibis image by Orlando Morantes and Barred Owl image by Doug Sandquist.
Until the kayak incident. There is a strategy that when you are hiking, biking or kayaking to have a leader who knows the way and a cleanup person who makes sure everyone in front of him/her keeps up, or in the case of slow paddlers, yells for everyone else to slow down. This works fine unless it is the cleanup person who has a problem. I turned to check out my five followers and did not see the tail man. I asked the last visible kayaker where our tail was and got the reply, “Right behind me.” He wasn’t. I turned to paddle back around the turn in the bayou. There was a kayak. Upside down. No kayaker in sight. Eventually and thankfully his head bobbed up over the far side of the vessel.
We all paddled quickly back to his position and together were able to get the kayak flipped and our waterlogged photographer back in the saddle. Now, kayaks don’t flip very easily, even on windy Watson Lake in my hometown. But it can happen, which is why we all wear or carry flotation vests. Fortunately, his camera gear was in a waterproof bag which had caught on a retaining strap when our now water rat gave it a yank, causing the a truly immersive photography experience. His only losses were his glasses, his headlamp and his pride. I will no longer advertise the trip as an immersive experience because this was unintended. Our volunteer driver paddled back to the nearby dock with him where the returned to our lodging, a hot shower and dry clothes. This is an adventure that one wishes would never happen, but an experience that prepares you to make sure nothing catastrophic happens in the future. Thank you Lord!
Despite the misadventures, the groups all termed the workshops resounding successes. Each photographer came away with multiple “keeper” images, a new appreciation for the south, a desire to eat healthier food, and memories that will last a lifetime. For me, I am already impeccably planning for even better workshop next year. I renewed my driver’s license this morning.
Participant Laurent Martres shooting light through the fog. Image by Rob Strain
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