Puffins and Razorbills of Grimsey Island Workshop Reports May June 2025

Puffins, Solitude, and the Soul of the Arctic – There are few places left in the world where you can photograph wildlife in complete solitude—where the only sound is the rush of wind across dramatic basalt cliffs, the echoing cackle of seabirds, and the soft high-speed click of your mirrorless cameras electronic shutter. Grimsey Island, perched on the Arctic Circle just off the north coast of Iceland, is one of those places. It is wild, raw, and unforgiving—but in its ruggedness lies extraordinary beauty and a rare opportunity for intimate encounters with wildlife. Grimsey is the hidden gem of Iceland, packing a photographic punch well above its size and weight.

This May and June, I had the great privilege of leading two back-to-back photography expeditions to Grimsey Island focused primarily on the charismatic Atlantic Puffin, but with ample opportunities to photograph a host of other seabirds and Arctic landscapes. The trips—May 27th to June 2nd and June 3rd to June 8th—delivered not only exceptional bird photography but also some of the most dramatic weather and moody light I’ve encountered in recent years.

Grimsey isn’t easy to reach, and that’s a good thing. Its remoteness keeps it pristine and blissfully free from crowds. To get there, we journeyed north to the Icelandic town of Dalvík, where we boarded the ferry for the three-hour crossing. The first group arrived smoothly, with calm seas and mild winds—a gentle welcome to the north. But the second trip was greeted by nature’s fury: high winds exceeding 30 metres per second and ocean swells over five meters delayed our departure by a full day. While the delay wasn’t ideal, it provided an impromptu opportunity to explore some Lightroom processing and discuss the optimal camera settings for the upcoming photography.  The one-day delay also served as a reminder that in the Arctic, nature always has the final say.

Once we landed on Grimsey, however, everything fell into place. Our home for the week was a humble guesthouse near the island’s southern cliffs—a perfect base from which to venture out for both early morning and late evening sessions. Grimsey is a relatively small island with only a few basic roads. Nevertheless, a car (4WD) is of significant benefit for moving around quickly and accessing the more remote and higher sea cliffs. At both of these workshops, we took a 4WD with us on the car ferry so we could maximise our photography on the island. Other groups don’t necessarily offer car transport on the island, but this can be a significant error of judgment in inclement weather. Over the course of our trip, we watched several groups uncomfortably trudging uphill through the rain with their camera gear, headed for the high cliffs. Meanwhile, we travelled comfortably to the top by 4WD with all our gear, arriving dry and ready to photograph.

The stars of the show were, of course, the Atlantic Puffins. These endearing seabirds return to Grimsey in the thousands each spring to nest high on the cliffs that ring the island’s perimeter. Unlike other sites in Iceland where the birds are often skittish or the cliffs too distant for intimate photography, Grimsey offers something truly special: proximity. Not only does it provide an incredible opportunity to get close to these fantastic birds, but it also offers the chance to photograph these birds in a stunning Arctic setting.

Each day, we were able to approach puffins within mere meters, lying flat on the soft grass as they hung out on the high cliffs or returned to their burrows. With patience and respect for their space, they allowed us into their world. We photographed them in dramatic light, and during moody, misty afternoons that added emotional depth to the frames.

What makes Grimsey exceptional is not just the access, but the solitude. Unlike well-trodden sites on the mainland, we had entire stretches of cliff to ourselves. No tourists and no other visitors. No other groups. Just us, the birds, and the Arctic wind. It’s a kind of photographic meditation—one that allows you to connect deeply with the landscape and your subject.

While puffins were the headline act, they were far from the only performers. Grimsey is a seabird sanctuary, alive with an astonishing diversity of species. Razorbills nested alongside puffins, their bold monochrome plumage striking against the green moss and black cliffs. Black-legged Kittiwakes shrieked and soared on coastal updrafts, offering opportunities for stunning in-flight images as they banked and hovered in the wind. Mixed amongst them were northern Fulmars and common murres.

We watched and photographed Common Murres and Guillemots packed shoulder-to-shoulder on the narrow cliff ledges, each pair tending to a single egg balanced precariously on bare rock. Northern Fulmars glided effortlessly past our lenses on fixed wings, while Arctic Terns dive-bombed intruders with typical ferocity.

We were fortunate to encounter several rarer species as well, including Black Guillemots, the delicate Red-necked Phalarope in its breeding plumage, and even the elusive Little Auk. Each day brought new sightings—Snipe performing aerial displays, Golden Plovers calling from lichen-covered rocks and buttercup-covered fields, Snow Buntings flitting along the coastal paths.

Throughout the two trips, we documented and photographed an impressive list of 30 species. I did not personally photograph every single species, but very much enjoyed keeping a list of those species we encountered.

  • Atlantic Puffin
  • Razorbill
  • Black-legged Kittiwake
  • Common Murre
  • Brünnich’s Guillemot
  • Black Guillemot
  • Northern Fulmar
  • Arctic Tern
  • Red-necked Phalarope
  • Snipe
  • Golden Plover
  • Snow Bunting
  • Redwing Thrush
  • Raven
  • Common Eider
  • Long-tailed Duck
  • Black-headed Gull
  • Gannet
  • Black-tailed Godwit
  • Common Ringed Plover
  • Ruddy Turnstone
  • Eurasian Oystercatcher
  • Sanderling
  • Common Redshank
  • Arctic Skua
  • Dunlin
  • Mallard
  • White Wagtail
  • Meadow Pipit
  • Canada Goose

Each species presented its own photographic challenges and rewards, from fast flight patterns to elusive behaviour. But the overarching theme was access—Grimsey offers unparalleled proximity to birds in their natural environment, free from the pressure and disruption of human traffic.

The Arctic teaches patience and rewards those who are flexible. Throughout our time on Grimsey, we encountered an extraordinary range of weather conditions: wind, sun, sea fog, and sudden downpours. But far from being an obstacle, the changing weather only enhanced our photography. I have long mandated that dramatic weather makes dramatic photographs, and Grimsey delivered in spades for both our workshops.

One particularly memorable morning, fog and mist rolled in off the ocean, blanketing the cliffs in a pale, blue-grey hue. Visibility dropped, but the mood became magical. Puffins stood like statues in the mist, their colourful beaks luminous against the muted backdrop. That afternoon, the fog burned off to reveal crisp skies and overcast light, and we returned to the same spot to photograph puffins against the ocean.

Another evening brought towering clouds that swept across the island like theatre curtains, letting shafts of light fall onto the sea. With long lenses and careful compositions, we captured seabirds soaring through these natural spotlights—a breathtaking juxtaposition of nature’s grandeur and raw simplicity.

Grimsey isn’t just about birds. The island itself is staggeringly beautiful. A windswept plateau broken by basalt cliffs and rolling meadows, it feels like a place lost in time. We explored beyond the nesting colonies to photograph the broader landscape: coastal rock formations, dramatic sky-scapes, and wild, empty vistas that echo the purity of the far north.

At times, the play between scale and subject became a powerful compositional element. A lone puffin perched on the edge of a massive sea stack. A pair of Black-legged kittiwakes on their nest. A group of murres slicing through shafts of light over a cobalt sea. Grimsey gives photographers room to breathe—to pull back and frame the subject in its environment with honesty and reverence.

Perhaps what made both trips so special was not just the wildlife or the location, but the people. Our small, tight-knit groups quickly bonded over shared meals, gear chats, photo reviews, and the inevitable jokes that come after long days in the field. We worked as a team—scouting, spotting, sharing tips and excitement. When one of us found a nesting site or a particularly photogenic perch, the news spread quickly and everyone benefited. There was no competition, just a shared passion and respect for nature and photography. Evenings were spent reviewing images, charging batteries, and discussing light, behaviour, and composition. More than a few nights ended well after midnight, reluctant to put our cameras down even as fatigue set in.

Personally, I shot over 22,000 images during the two workshops on Grimsey Island (not hard when your R1 camera goes at 40 FPS with birds in flight!). After an initial first pass, I was able to delete around 13,000 images, leaving approximately 9,000 keepers (sharp photographs with interesting compositions that are worth a second look). That is an extraordinary number of photographs to sort, edit, process, and catalogue, and the photographs in this report represent just a very small fraction of those I chose to keep and have processed to date. It will likely be many years before I finish mining photographs from these two workshops. This makes Grimsey Island one of the most productive locations in the Arctic to photograph Arctic birds.

Grimsey Island is not a destination to add to your bucket list. It’s something more profound: a place to slow down, to reconnect with the rhythm of nature, and to immerse yourself in the art of observation. It’s a place where puffins aren’t props for selfies but sentinels of a wild world that still exists if you’re willing to seek it. Both of these trips reminded me why I fell in love with wildlife photography in the first place. It’s not about the number of images or the reach of your lens—it’s about presence. About being there. About watching a puffin return to its burrow against the wind, or witnessing the sudden flash of an Arctic Skua as it harasses a tern mid-flight.

If you’re looking for an experience that combines intimate wildlife encounters, cinematic landscapes, and genuine solitude, Grimsey offers something truly rare. I’ll be back—and I hope to see you there, lying flat on a clifftop, your lens trained on a puffin with the wind in your face and the Arctic sun at your back. Details for our June 2026 trip are now online, and places are limited. Please contact me for details – Until next time, stay wild.

Arctic Foxes and Reindeer of Svalbard April 2025 Expedition Report

There are few places on Earth that match the wild, remote, and brutally beautiful snow and ice covered landscapes of Svalbard in winter. Nestled deep within the Arctic Circle, this archipelago is a realm ruled by ice, wind, and wildlife. This April, I had the privilege of leading a private snowmobile expedition across this frozen frontier—a journey that would see us travel over 500 kilometres, find more than a dozen Arctic foxes, encounter reindeer and ptarmigan, and face the full spectrum of Arctic weather, from golden light to whiteout blizzards.

From the moment we arrived in Longyearbyen, the sense of isolation and adventure was palpable. The eve of an expedition is always an exciting time with the great unknown ahead. The air was sharp and cold, the light already tinged with the ethereal glow of Arctic spring. With 24-hour daylight just around the corner, we were on the cusp of the long polar day, and we planned to make the most of every usable hour. By April the sun no longer truly sets in Svalbard, which means there are hours of golden light available for photography. It also means we can work well into the night, taking advantage of times the wildlife is at its most active.

Our days were often long—starting at 5 a.m. and often not wrapping up until midnight—but the light was at its best during these hours. As any serious wildlife photographer knows, great light and great wildlife don’t run on a 9-to-5 schedule.

We travelled by snowmobile, fully outfitted in cold-weather gear, carrying camera equipment, safety gear, and enough fuel and supplies for extended runs. We based ourselves in Longyearbyen and made daily sojourns out into the wilderness in search of wildlife. Navigating the ice-covered landscape by snow mobile requires concentration and no small amount of stamina. But the reward? Untouched terrain, and wildlife in its most raw and natural form.

One of the primary goals of this expedition was to photograph Arctic foxes in their natural habitat. By the end of the trip, we had seen more than a dozen individuals—an incredible result in such a vast and challenging environment. These foxes, well-adapted to the cold and the shifting seasons, were in prime winter coat: a thick, snow-white camouflage against the terrain. This makes them hard to spot, but also incredibly photogenic in the snow covered environment.

One particularly encounter took place near a windswept ridge on the outskirts of Barentsburg, where we found a young white morph fox near the coastline. We set up low, using the terrain for cover, and waited. The fox came close—curious but cautious—offering a string of intimate moments that translated into some of the most compelling images of the trip. During this encounter we had to work quickly as there was a freezing wind that plummeted temperatures and numbed the fingers in moments. Despite the cold, some incredible images resulted from this encounter.

Another highlight came in the aftermath of a fresh snowfall. As we neared the town of Barentsburg, we spotted a fox high on a ridge line – watching from above. The soft light and pristine conditions gave the scene a dreamlike quality and a wonderful opportunity to show the fox in the landscape. It’s in moments like these that make wildlife photography in the Arctic such a joy.

While Arctic foxes were our primary focus, we were also treated to many memorable encounters with Svalbard reindeer in absolutely superb conditions. These smaller, stockier cousins of mainland reindeer are uniquely adapted to the harsh environment. We found several groups grazing through the snow-crusted tundra, their thick coats catching the snowfall.

Photographing them in the early hours and during the long twilight evenings, we were able to create evocative portraits against the vast, open white landscape amidst swirling snowfall.

Ptarmigan, often overlooked, became another fascinating subject. With their feathered feet and perfectly camouflaged plumage, these Arctic birds offered opportunities for intimate ground-level compositions. Catching one mid-fluff or just as it shook free a dusting of snow made for dynamic, storytelling frames that added variety to the trip’s portfolio.

Of course, no Arctic expedition would be complete without a taste of the extreme. One full day of our trip was lost to a powerful whiteout winter storm that swept through the region. Winds howled across the open landscape, visibility dropped to near zero, and temperatures plummeted well below -35°C with windchill. Of course, we ventured out to experience the storm, but photography was impossible and we returned to the safety of town after our winter storm experience.

We hunkered down in our base accommodation—frustrated by the lost shooting time, but deeply aware that this, too, was part of the Arctic’s story. When the storm finally passed, it left behind a transformed world. The landscape had been reset—smooth, sculpted by the wind, and freshly dusted with snow. This shift opened new possibilities for minimalistic compositions, and our fox sightings resumed with a renewed sense of wonder.

Our routine became a rhythm of extremes—early starts, long snowmobile journeys, and frequent stops to assess terrain, scout for wildlife, or simply pause and admire the view. The focus was always on maximizing opportunities while respecting the environment and the wildlife. This private snowmobile expedition was not just a photography tour—it was a true Arctic experience. From the exhilaration of racing across frozen fjords to the quiet joy of lying in wait as a fox crests a snowbank, it was a journey that tested us, thrilled us, and left us with a deepened connection to the polar world.

As the snowmobiles rolled back into Longyearbyen for the final time, we were exhausted but elated—changed in ways we hadn’t expected. That, more than anything, is the hallmark of a truly great expedition. We will be running another snow mobile expedition for Arctic wildlife in 2026 in Svalbard. The expedition will again see us based in Longyearbyen, making daily journeys out in the field in search of wildlife. The expedition will run from April 1st until April 5th, 2026 and is limited to just three participants. Full details are now available on the website HERE.

Wildlife Photography and Wildlife Respect

I wanted to share a photograph that shows how a Polar Bear (or any wildlife for that matter) can be not only be safely photographed (this image shot before the new restrictions in Svalbard – more than a year ago), but also treated with the highest degree of respect and not interfered with, harassed or stressed in the slightest. We observed this magnificent bear, walking slowly across some fast ice near a glacier at a distance of more than three kilometres. We parked our small expedition ship (12 passengers aboard – all photographers) at the edge of the fast ice, shut off the engine and watched and observed through our binoculars for more than two hours – enjoying the moment with respect, awe and hopeful anticipation. Slowly, the bear approached of its own volition and curiosity, without need for us to do anything other than remain calm, quiet and patient. All on board remained quiet, observant and patient. Cameras at the ready, we began to photograph the bear from the safety of our ship as it walked slowly along the fast ice, still at distance from the boat. Of course, it noticed us, as it sniffed the air in passing in curiosity. But, it was never interfered with. It was never stressed and it was never chased. It was treated with the highest degree of respect it deserves. The Polar Bear is the king of the Arctic. It deserves nothing less than the highest degree of respect at all times. When the bear was ready, it continued its journey along the edge of the fast ice, disappearing into the distance. It was never chased or followed and there was never stress caused. There was never a question of danger from the safety of the expedition ship. When the bear had gone, we started our engine and continued our journey. This is how you photograph wildlife with respect. Perhaps scientists who chase bears with helicopters could learn a thing or two from wildlife photographers about how to approach and photograph wildlife with respect and patience. Even in this ‘cropped’ photograph, taken with a 600mm lens and a 1.4 TC (effective focal length 840mm) the bear was never closer than a couple of hundred metres. Wildlife photography of Polar Bears doesn’t need a wide angle lens to be powerful, emotive and dramatic. What is required is an understanding and respect for the wildlife. Wildlife FIRST. Photography second. This is not a comparison between Science and Tourism. That is not the intent. This is a comparison between methodologies. How Polar Bears can be engaged with, with respect, or as in the case of the recent helicopter incident by researchers, without respect that unduly stresses the animal. For the record, I am not against the Science of Polar Bears. I am against invasive, stressful methods for Polar Bear sedation and research such as chasing bears from helicopter.

Edit: Update: 24th April 2025 8.35pm AEST – Svalbard Posten has posted an article about the incident HERE. NRK Media in Norway has also posted a front page Article HERE.

Arctic Fox in Icelands Winter Wilderness Workshop Report 2025

In early February 2025, I led two back-to-back Arctic fox photography workshops in the remote and rugged Hornstrandir Nature Reserve in northwestern Iceland for two seperate groups of photographers. Hornstrandir is a true wilderness, offering some of the best opportunities anywhere in the Arctic to observe and photograph Arctic foxes in their natural habitat. Unlike much of Iceland, where foxes are still hunted, the nature reserve provides them with full protection. As a result, they are more approachable here than in other parts of the country, making it an exceptional destination for wildlife photography. Accessible in the winter, and only by boat, the Hornstrandir Nature Reserve also offers a wonderful getaway for photographers looking to get back to Nature and spend quality time with their subjects.

This year’s workshops presented a mix of conditions that kept us constantly adapting. We arrived to find a good covering of snow, which is always ideal for clean, wintery backdrops. However, strong southerly winds soon brought in sporadic rain, initiating a rapid thaw. Iceland’s freeze-thaw cycle is highly dynamic, and even in the depths of winter, conditions can change within hours. While this can be frustrating, it also presents opportunities—by working with the available weather and terrain, we were able to capture a diverse portfolio of Arctic fox images in just a short span of time.

Over the course of the two workshops, we encountered a total of six different Arctic foxes, each with its own distinct personality and behaviour. The majority of them (five out of six) were blue morphs, which are much more common in coastal regions like Hornstrandir. Blue morph Arctic foxes retain a dark brown coat throughout winter, unlike their white morph counterparts that shift from brownish-grey in summer to pure white in winter. The contrast of the dark blue morph foxes against the snow-covered and rocky landscape provided excellent photographic opportunities. The sixth fox, a striking white morph, was a particular highlight—seeing a white fox in winter is always a special moment, as they blend seamlessly with their snowy surroundings. The opportunities for white-on-white minimalist photography are at their very best in winter with the White morph.

Among the foxes we observed was a dominant male, clearly in control of his territory. He was confident, bold, and regularly patrolled his area, occasionally chasing off younger or less dominant foxes. We also photographed several other males, females, and first-year cubs. The cubs, still relatively inexperienced, displayed playful and curious behaviour, which made for some fantastic interactions and storytelling images.

One of the most rewarding aspects of these workshops was the ability to spend extended time with individual foxes, allowing us to observe and document their behaviours in depth. Patience was key—by positioning ourselves carefully and waiting quietly, we were often rewarded with intimate moments of foxes resting, hunting, and interacting with each other.

Winter photography in Hornstrandir presents a unique set of challenges and rewards. The ever-changing conditions meant that we had to constantly adjust our approach. Some days were dominated by heavy cloud cover, creating soft, diffused light that was perfect for close-up portraits and details as well as wide vistas. Other times, brief windows of clear skies allowed us to work with directional light, emphasizing the texture of the foxes’ fur and the rugged landscape. We also took the opportunity to photograph some of the bird life in this area.

One particularly memorable session took place in the late afternoon as the low winter sun briefly broke through the clouds, casting a golden glow over the landscape. A blue morph Arctic fox paused on a rocky outcrop, bathed in the last light of the day, allowing us to capture a stunning series of backlit portraits. Moments like this are what make winter wildlife photography so rewarding—being in the right place at the right time, ready to seize an opportunity when the elements align.

The thawing snow added another dynamic element to the imagery. As the white landscape receded, patches of dark volcanic rock and golden-brown tundra began to emerge, creating a striking contrast with the foxes. This gave us a more varied and unique portfolio than a uniform blanket of snow might have allowed. Some images showcased the foxes navigating a pristine winter landscape, while others depicted them against a more transitional, raw, and textured background.

After the conclusion of the workshops, I traveled to a new, previously unexplored location in northwestern Iceland to scout for future Arctic fox photography opportunities. This region offers not only a dramatic coastal setting but also supports both blue morph and white morph Arctic foxes, making it a particularly exciting prospect for future trips.

The scouting trip was highly productive—I was able to locate multiple foxes and observe their behaviour in this environment. The landscape features towering cliffs, black sand beaches, and rugged fjords. The combination of these elements provides a striking backdrop for wildlife photography, adding another layer of visual interest to Arctic fox images.

I also took the time to assess the logistics of operating a workshop in this new location. Accessibility, accommodation options, and weather patterns all play a crucial role in determining the viability of a new workshop destination. From what I experienced, this area has tremendous potential, and I’m excited to return for more in-depth exploration.

Following the success of this year’s workshops, we will be returning to Iceland in February 2026 for another round of back-to-back Arctic fox photography expeditions. Hornstrandir remains one of the best locations in the Arctic for reliably finding and photographing these elusive animals, and with the addition of a new location in northwestern Iceland, we will have even more opportunities to create exceptional imagery.

Each workshop is limited to a maximum of five photographers, ensuring a highly personalized experience with ample one-on-one guidance. Whether you’re interested in capturing intimate portraits, dynamic action shots, or environmental compositions that showcase the foxes within their rugged habitat, these workshops are designed to maximize photographic opportunities in one of the most breathtaking winter landscapes on Earth.

If you’re interested in joining us for this incredible experience, feel free to reach out to register your interest. With small group sizes, spaces fill quickly, and this remains one of the most sought-after wildlife photography experiences in Iceland.

Photographing Arctic foxes in winter is both a challenge and a privilege. These animals are perfectly adapted to one of the harshest environments on the planet, and spending time with them in their natural habitat is an unforgettable experience. The combination of dramatic landscapes, rapidly changing weather, and the intimate encounters we had with the foxes made this year’s workshops a tremendous success. As always, adapting to the conditions was key. Iceland’s winter is unpredictable, and working with what nature provides—rather than against it—ensures the best photographic results. The freeze-thaw cycle, while sometimes frustrating, ultimately allowed us to create a diverse and compelling portfolio in just a short period.

With the addition of a new location for future expeditions, I’m looking forward to expanding the possibilities for Arctic fox photography in Iceland. These workshops remain a highlight of the year, and I can’t wait to return in February 2026 to once again immerse myself in this incredible environment. If Arctic fox photography in the wild is something you’ve dreamed of, now is the time to start planning. I hope to see you in Iceland next winter for another unforgettable experience!

Mastering Your Camera: The Key to Success in Wildlife Photography

Wildlife photography is one of the most challenging and rewarding genres of Nature photography. Creating powerful and emotive wildlife photographs demands a deep understanding of animal behaviour, patience, and the ability to adapt to unpredictable environments. But beyond all that, there is one factor that determines whether you capture the decisive moment or miss it completely—how well you know your camera.

Over the decades I have been working as a professional Nature photographer, I’ve had the privilege of photographing in some of the planet’s most remote and extreme environments, from the frozen landscapes of Antarctica to the rugged and unforgiving Arctic tundra of Svalbard and Greenland. In these places, conditions can be brutally harsh, wildlife is unpredictable, and opportunities are fleeting. In such environments, there is no time to fumble with settings or second-guess technical choices. Mastery of your camera is the foundation that allows you to focus on composition, storytelling, and, most importantly, the wildlife itself.

In this article, I’ll discuss why knowing your camera inside and out is critical in wildlife photography, the key settings and features you must master, and how this knowledge translates into better images in the field. Even if you don’t shoot wildlife, this article will help you become a better photographer. It may even save you from an expensive purchase and from the common misconception that a new camera is the vehicle to better photography. In point of fact, a new camera is often detrimental to your photography in the short term as you have to learn the new tool.

The Unforgiving Nature of Wildlife Photography – Seconds Make the Difference – Wildlife photography is about capturing fleeting, decisive moments. Whether it’s an Arctic fox pouncing on prey, a polar bear emerging from the ice and fog, or a sea eagle diving for fish, these moments are unpredictable and often last no more than a split second or two. If you’re not intimately familiar with your camera, you risk missing the shot altogether. In fact, unless you have complete technical mastery of your camera, including muscle memory for all of its controls, you will almost certainly miss it.

I’ve repeatedly seen photographers in the field hesitate because they needed to adjust their autofocus settings, change their exposure compensation or otherwise make a technical adjustment. By the time they’ve made the adjustment, the moment is gone and the photograph has been missed. Wildlife doesn’t wait for you to be ready—you must be ready at all times.

Harsh and Unpredictable Environments – In many of the locations I photograph, the environment itself is a formidable challenge. Freezing temperatures in the Arctic can drain batteries quickly, gloves make it difficult to adjust dials, and snow can easily confuse a camera’s metering system. In such conditions, knowing how to operate your camera by feel—without having to look at buttons or menus—is essential. Even if you take the harsh environment out of the equation knowing how to operate your camera intuitively with muscle memory will improve your photography; regardless of the environment.

When I’m photographing Arctic foxes in Iceland’s Hornstrandir Nature Reserve, for example, I might be kneeling or laying down in the snow with high winds and blowing ice, tracking a fast-moving subject. In such situations, I cannot afford to be distracted by my camera. Everything must be second nature. The second I have to look away or stop and think about what I am doing from a technical perspective is the moment I stop being an artist and start being a technician.

Essential Camera Skills Every Wildlife Photographer Must Master – Autofocus Mastery – Autofocus (AF) performance can make or break a wildlife image. Understanding how your camera’s AF system works—its various modes, tracking capabilities, and limitations—is critical.

For wildlife, I typically rely on continuous autofocus (AI Servo) and use a combination of single-point and zone AF modes depending on the subject. For fast-moving subjects, animal eye-tracking autofocus (available on newer mirrorless cameras) is a game-changer. However, not all cameras perform equally well in different settings, and understanding your camera’s strengths and weaknesses helps you choose the right settings in the moment. This can only come with experience.

When photographing Arctic foxes, I frequently switch between single-point AF for precise focus (when the fox is stationary or moving slowly) and zone AF for tracking eye and movement (when it’s running or otherwise active). Knowing when and how to make these adjustments without taking my eye off the viewfinder is a skill that comes with practice. Once you master this ability you can free your brain up to focus (pardon the pun) on composition.

Exposure Control in Extreme Conditions – Wildlife photography often involves high-contrast environments. In the Arctic, for example, bright snow can fool a camera’s metering system, leading to underexposed subjects. Conversely, dark fur on an Arctic fox or polar bear in shadowed ice can result in overexposure.

Mastering exposure compensation and understanding histograms is crucial. I always shoot in Manual mode, allowing me to control shutter speed and aperture with an appropriate ISO setting for the light. Since I shoot in Manual I don’t need to dial in exposure compensation to ensure my subject is properly exposed. I know from experience, that in a bright white snow environment I am going to have to overexpose approximately two stops to ensure my whites are white (and not grey) and that my histogram is is biased to the right (for optimal signal to noise). To accomplish this, I simply shoot a frame, check the histogram and make any required adjustments before the wildlife comes into play.

Shutter Speed and Motion – One of the most common mistakes I see in wildlife photography (after underexposure) is using an inadequate shutter speed. A slow shutter can result in motion blur, rendering an otherwise perfect moment unusable. Of course, there are times when we want to introduce motion blur into a photograph to convey a feeling of movement. Other times, we want to ensure a sharp subject. As a general rule:
• Fast-moving subjects (birds in flight, running mammals): 1/1250s or faster
• General wildlife (walking animals, standing birds): 1/500s
• Slow or stationary subjects: 1/250s or lower, depending on focal length and speed of subject

Keep in mind the above are general guidelines only and you should choose an appropriate shutter speed to your subject. This is also where knowing your subject can greatly assist you.

One technique to try is using Auto ISO with a minimum shutter speed. This ensures you will maintain a sharp image while allowing flexibility in exposure settings. If you try this I recommend setting a ceiling for the ISO so that you control the final noise in your files.

Understanding Custom Buttons and Shortcuts – Modern cameras offer extensive customisation options. I encourage every wildlife photographer to set up their camera for quick access to critical settings. For example:
• Back-button focus: Separates focusing from the shutter button for better control of auto focus and metering.
• Custom buttons for AF mode switching: Quickly toggling between single-point and zone AF is essential. If you happen to also shoot a Canon EOS R1 then you can achieve this with just the one button on the back of the camera.
• Custom mode settings: Saving different exposure settings (e.g., one for action, one for static subjects) allows rapid switching.

By configuring my camera to my workflow, I eliminate unnecessary adjustments and can react instantly in the field.

Translating Camera Knowledge into Better Wildlife Images – Confidence and Speed in the Field – When you know your camera inside and out, you develop the confidence to focus on composition and storytelling rather than technical details. You will free up your brain to become an artist in the field, instead of a technician.

For example, during my Arctic fox workshops, I often find myself tracking a fox as it moves across a snowy landscape. Because I don’t have to think about my settings, I can concentrate on anticipating the fox’s next move, positioning myself for the best angle, and ensuring a compelling background. I am also ready to capture the decisive moment if the fox does something unpredictable.

Better Use of Light and Composition – Technical mastery also allows for more creative freedom. Instead of struggling with settings, you can focus on utilising the best light, framing your subject effectively, and telling a more powerful visual story.

A well-executed image isn’t just about sharpness—it’s about emotion, behaviour, and the relationship between the subject and its environment. Knowing your camera allows you to capture these elements with precision. Remember, we are visual storytellers. We want to tell the story of the wildlife in the environment in which it lives. Keep this in the forefront of your thinking and I promise you your photography of wildlife will improve.

How to Improve Your Camera Mastery – Practice Before You Travel – Before heading into the field, spend time practicing with your camera in controlled conditions. Learn its menus, test autofocus performance, and memorize button placements so you can operate it without looking. Make sure you master the tool (the camera) so that you can take full advantage of all of its capabilities in the field without disengaging yourself from the subject in front of you.

Simulate Real-World Conditions – If you’re preparing for an Arctic or cold weather experience, practice shooting in the cold with gloves on. If you’ll be photographing birds in flight, visit a local park and test your tracking skills. The more you train in realistic conditions, the more prepared you’ll be. When I was teaching myself how to photograph birds in flight I would go down to my local beach on the weekend with my camera and photograph seagulls for practice.

Learn from Mistakes – Every missed shot is an opportunity to improve. Analyse your images to identify technical errors and refine your approach. Continuous learning is key to mastering wildlife photography. Remember to also learn about your subject. The more you know about the wildlife you are choosing to photograph the more you will be able to predict its behaviour and the more likely you are to capture decisive and powerful photographs that fully convey the emotion of being in the field.

Final Thoughts – In wildlife photography, knowing your camera is just as important as knowing your subject. The difference between a missed opportunity and a breathtaking image often comes down to how quickly and instinctively you can adjust your settings. Mastering your camera frees you to focus on the art of photography—the light, composition, and the incredible wildlife we are privileged to witness. So take the time to truly understand your gear, because when the moment comes, you won’t have time to think—you’ll need to react.

ALSO PUBLISHED TO CANON RUMOURS MARCH 3RD 2025