No, this isn’t about HTML or CSS. It’s about joining the ends of a length of nylon webbing. I used tubular webbing to make my camera neck straps, but I didn’t bother with a sewing machine. Instead, I tied the ends together with a water knot. Here’s how I did it:

In the photos above, I’m forming a loop from a single length of 1-inch webbing (Panel 1a in the photo above). I made a loose overhand knot in one end, leaving a generous tail (Panel 1b). Then I threaded the other end over the first, following every twist and turn, while making sure that the “follower” lay flat against the “leader” (Panels 1c and 1d) at all times.

Once I’d finished following through (Panels 2a and 2b), I snugged the knot down (Panels 2c and 2d). This took some care, particularly as I wanted 2-inch tails. (In forming a water knot, you want the tails of the finished knot to extend at least twice as far as the webbing is wide. Why? Because the tails will gradually slip with every load-unload cycle, slowly creeping back into the knot. (The water knot is sometimes called the “death knot” in climbing circles for just this reason.) Leaving the tails long makes it easy to inspect the knot for early evidence of creep, however. So do it!

Now here’s the finished knot, seen in both front and back views:

Note that the tails leave the knot on the same side. If your knot doesn’t look like mine, untie it and start over. And be sure to snug it up well. Don’t worry that it will be hard to untie later. It won’t jam under normal loads. Water knots aren’t limited to forming loops, either. They can also be used to join up multiple lengths of webbing, but it’s important that all the pieces have the same width.

That’s it. Are you itching to tie one on now? I’ll bet you are!

Send a Comment

Practically every publication, whether print or online, is now engaged in an orgy of retrospection, looking back at the rapidly waning year and offering a selection of “bests.” And why should we be any different? To which end, I’ve been reviewing the photos that have crossed my virtual desk in the past 12 months, with an eye to showcasing some of the best. It’s an unavoidable subjective process, to be sure, but I think you’ll agree that Pat McKay’s work belongs in the front rank. His photos celebrate the beauties of the Delmarva Peninsula, and while his gear is state of the art, he prefers to get about in ways that wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow in 1890: by paddle, bike, and foot.

And speaking of Pat’s gear, here’s how he describes what he takes with him when he goes afield:

 

I have two camera bags, one that travels with me on my bike and in the kayak (and holds the Rebel XSi), and another that I take with me when I travel by auto (the Canon 7D) that I use when the location where I'm headed is just too far to realistically cycle in one day, or when the main purpose of the trip is photography. Here's a breakdown of each bag:

The Canon EOS 7D Bag:

• • Canon EOS 7D DSLR
• • Tamron SP AF 17-50mm f/2.8 XR Di II LD IF Lens
• • Tamron AF 70-300mm f/4.0-5.6 SP Di VC USD XLD
• • Canon EF 50mm f1.4 USM
• • Canon EF 28-105mm f/3.5-4.5 II USM

 

The EOS Rebel XSi Bag:

• • Canon EOS Digital Rebel XSi
• • Tamron AF 18-270mm f/3.5-6.3 Di II VC PZD LD Aspherical IF

 

There is some overlap, but I've yet to find that "perfect" walk-about lens. And if one does exist, it's probably made out of solid unobtanium and freakishly expensive. I also always carry at least one point-and-shoot camera with me. In the past it has always been my trusty Canon PowerShot G-11 or my wife's Canon PowerShot SD1200 IS Digital Elph. But recently I've also picked up a bridge camera— the Canon Power Shot SX40 HS—that I've been carrying with me sometimes instead of the G-11. I still prefer the G-11 for a number of reasons, not the least being the larger sensor and the ability to shoot in RAW. Still, the 35x optical zoom that is available with the SX40 HS, which gives 840mm total reach in terms of 35mm equivalent, is a nice feature.

 

As you can see, Pat gives a lot of thought to the gear he carries, like most serious photographers. But even the best equipment is worthless if the person behind the camera doesn’t have an eye for what works and what doesn’t. Needless to say, Pat’s got a great eye. And here’s the proof, broken down by camera and lens (just to keep us gearheads happy!):

 

Canon EOS Digital Rebel XSi and Tamron AF 70-300mm

The way ahead

Pause for reflection

On the forest floor (Amanita)

 

Canon EOS 7D DSLR and Tamron AF 70-300mm

Where herons thrive

Great egret in search of a meal

Flexible friend

Moving out

“I spy with my little eye…”

 

Canon G-11

Young rat snake

Marbled orb weaver

 

Canon PowerShot SD1200 IS Digital Elph

Patience

Dignity (ibis)

The golden hour

Red sky at night (Hoopers Island)

Repose (basking turtle)

 

Canon Power Shot SX40 HS

Moon shot

Big water (the Cooper River)

 

Artistic Post-Processing With Photoshop CS5

Portrait in black and white (heron)

On watch

 

There you have it—a sampler of Pat McKay’s recent work. And now you know why I number it among the best I’ve seen, in this year or any other.

---

 

To See More of Pat McKay’s Photography…

• • “I Love My Canon G-11!”
• • “Out and About With the Canon G11”
• • “Afloat With the Canon PowerShot SD1200 IS Digital ELPH”
• • “A Lens Named Tammy: A Chincoteague Island Photomontage”
• • “Osprey Can You See? A Photographer’s Flights of Fancy ”

 

---

 

Send a Comment

I’m not one to hibernate indoors in winter. Don’t get me wrong. I’m no hard(wo)man. I like my creature comforts, and I don’t worship the cold. I’ve spent enough nights shivering in unheated rooms to last me a lifetime. But I also know that I need to keep moving to stay reasonably fit. A chipmunk can sleep through the winter and then spring into life just as soon as the sun melts the snow away from her burrow, with her vigor and vitality unimpaired. Not me. A week spent sitting behind a desk leaves me listless and flabby. Four months of idleness would probably finish me off altogether. Use it or lose it… That’s my motto. It has to be.

Still, it’s not easy to leave a warm house when an icy wind is driving snow through the pine woods and even the chickadees are cowed into silence. I need a very good reason. And photography provides it. There’s so much to see in winter. Landscapes that I know intimately from excursions during the more temperate seasons now look completely different, and every storm alters their appearance yet again. It’s said — correctly — that you can never wet your feet twice in the same river, such is the power of moving water to alter the land in ways both large and small. And the same is true of any winter landscape, at least in snow country. With nearly every step you take, you’re going where no one has gone before.

Of course, there’s more than this to lure photographers outside in winter. The white mantle that remodels the contours of familiar hills also serves as a tablet, faithfully recording the wanderings of every manner of four‑footed traveler. Best of all, its surface is refreshed with each snowfall, so I’m always seeing the latest chapter in the story of the travelers’ lives. In a very real sense, the winter woods are an open book. And then there are the colors. Much of the time, the frozen landscape is a grim portrait in gray and black. But suddenly, just as I’m turning toward home, the last rays of the sun will duck under the low‑hanging clouds, suffusing a distant ridge with a warm glow, and in the blink of an eye the composition is completely changed. Now it’s a nocturne in black and gold. No Pixar wizard could produce anything half so striking.

The bottom line? The winter woods and hills are a wonderland for photographers. But like almost all gifts, this one comes with strings attached. Winter isn’t an easy time to work outside, even when the work involves no more than turning dials and pushing buttons. Photographers need the right gear — and they need to know how to use it to best advantage. Blowing snow and freezing cold are also hard on digital cameras and their lenses. To be sure, practice and planning can overcome most such obstacles. Yet one stumbling block remains to bedevil cold‑season shutterbugs: cold hands… Read more…

Send a Comment