Knobbed Whelk shells are quite the prize for non-discriminate beachcombers.  Non-discriminate because they are rather gratuitous in size!  Their thick, strong shells allow many Knobbed Whelks to make it through the rough surf and onto the beaches of Cape Hatteras unbroken. While smaller shells require closer attention and greater effort, the Knobbed Whelk stands on its own in the surf of the Atlantic Ocean, large, easy to see, and often colorful.  Find a few of these on your walk and your shell bag is likely to become considerably heavy in a hurry!

Knobbed Whelk shells were once home to predatory sea snails.  Most Knobbed Whelks are dextral, meaning their openings are on the right side, or right-handed.  In addition, the openings, or shell apertures, are often a beautiful orange color.  For whatever reason, when I find one, I often find many nearby.  I assume it has to do with offshore sandbar habitat.

When I photograph shells I always like to illustrate a connection to the ocean.  For me, that means getting into the water!  As you might imagine, spending several hours standing in the ocean surf during the month of January can be quite refreshing!  If the weather is decent, I enjoy getting my bare feet wet; other times, I punk out and wear a set of muck boots and insulated socks (yeah, I’m getting older :-)).

While the Knobbed Whelk Shell is the subject, these types of frames are all about the water for me.  Anytime I’m shooting water in my frame, I’m probably shooting hundreds of frames!  Some photographers shy away from water-dominant frames because they require chance.  Chance is often perceived as delegitimizing to artistic intentions–something an artist cannot control and thus, part of a photograph that an artist cannot claim provenance over, or for.  Luckily, I’ve never considered myself an artist.  I care more for representing my subject than I do representing myself (or my style).  The natural world is not a passive stage upon which I perform my skill.

The serendipity and lack of control that I find when shooting water is, in fact, my chief attraction.  Finding myself completely lost in the activity of photographing shells somewhere along Cape Hatteras National Seashore is the magic of photography:  finding myself so completely lost in a present moment.  Each experience is collaborative, neither all of my creation nor without my attention and efforts.  I’m absolutely tickled that one or two of the hundreds of frames might exceed my expectations and deliver a moment I couldn’t have imagined before putting in the work.

Camera:  Nikon D810
Lens:  Nikkor 60mm micro f2.8 @ 60mm
Tripod:  Really Right Stuff TVC-33

Date taken:  January 18, 2019
Settings:  f14, 1/20 second, iso-31