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_Harbor seals (Phoca vitulina) are another one of my favorite subjects in art- right up there with grayling in terms of the frequency with which they haunt my designs.

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I’ve been planning a series of seal entries, relating to a swathe of topics ranging from the idea of personal totems and the perils of anthropomorphizing to Irish legend, from thoughts on a few of my favorite canoe routes to a review of ‘Seal Morning’ (an old Scottish kids book that I adore).

  The vessel in the picture (above) is an example of some early work from my Minnesota days- an urn inspired by P. Vitulina.  It's still one of my favorites. If I could massage the crackle effects during the Raku process to achieve that type of outcome every time, I’d be a happy man!

I’ve been sidetracked, however. This entry is now going to serve as a bit of a tribute to a guy I’ve never met.

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_ It started with a search for a few good harbor seal photos. I’ve spent a lot of time around seals, but they’re bloody hard to photograph. For one thing, they’re extremely wary. For another, they’re not the most chiseled of creatures, and the subtle features that make them beautiful are hard to capture.

Here’s the best one I’ve ever taken (from a kayak trip through the Deer Island group off West Vancouver Island).

I like the way this dude is lurking nestled in the kelp… pretty typical for him and his breed. Silhouettes at the eye’s periphery- stare at them directly and they’re gone.

On this particular trip, there were never fewer than four of these guys shadowing us, and often more. They have a strangely intense stare- even intimate... I don't know of an analogue from any other mammal. It's easy to see how the Selkie legends from West Clare and Scotland originated (more about that in a future essay).

So- I was honestly quite pleased with this photo... or at least until I encountered this guy's work...

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_ Yes- there’s probably something wrong with me in that I find something endearing and tantalizing about the idea of a seal biting my head.

Anyhow, Kawika Chetron snared these images- in the main- off the coast of Northern and Central California. Apparently, it’s a hidden world of reefs, ledges, and chasms, all laced with rip currents and tidal surges.

These are stunning images. I'm a cursory photographer at best, but I've taken enough pictures to recognize that images like these represent one of the following:
  • Hours, days, years of dedication
  • A keen, uncomprimising eye for beauty
  • A deeply rooted understanding of the character of a specific place and its denizens
  • A healthy dose of serendipity and fortuitousness
(Probably all four)

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_ Kawika’s work is so manifestly a labor of love that I couldn’t stomach pirating his legacy without permission. At the same time, I’ve never seen better pictures of harbor seals (or ling cod for that matter- maybe my second favorite fish after grayling).

So- I fired off an email, asking whether I could use a few photos in an essay.  A few days later, I received a gentle, gracious message from Kawika’s mother…

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Our sad news is that Kawika was lost at sea on a dive March 17, 2007.  You may see his website at  www.coldwaterimages.com.  You may also view a newspaper article from April 1, 2007 regarding Kawika here.

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_ This was like a blow to the gut.

For one thing, this type of loss is infinitely more relatable to me now than it was a year ago, in light of the death of my mother.  Obviously, my thoughts and prayers are with Kawika’s family.

Secondly, the blithe spirit is perishingly rare, and a precious thing.  There are so few people who pursue a single passion with utter joy, without regard to risk or the censorship of society. Kawika seems to have been one of these outliers.

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_ I’ll still log my Phoca vitulina essay series… and maybe add a meditation on the acceptance of risk. I’m fascinated by the moral implications of consciously skirting annihilation in the search of...
  • adrenaline
  • first descents
  • the divine
  • solitude
  • beauty
  • comradeship and love
  • the perfect photograph
  • or even just a chance to turn the dial down on society’s racket for a few minutes
But for now, please take some time to visit Kawika’s wonderful site and honor his memory. R.I.P.

Coldwater Images