A child’s sense of adventure is a wonderful thing, and what better way to indulge it than in a summer activity camp?

Many traditional centres now offer their activities to families so that mum and dad can rediscover their inner child, and swap the daily grind for high adventure – healthy for mind, body and soul!

1) PGL

www.pgl.co.uk

This is a great expereince for the whole family, where you can have fun together or individually: it’s up to you. There are 12 adventure locations across the countr, and there’s even a family-only centre, Loch Ranza, on the Isle of Arran off Scotland’s West coast. Of course, holidays for school groups still operate and all the usual suspects (abseiling, fiendish assault courses and so on) are available whether kids come as a class or with their folks.

2) The Venture Centre

www.adventure-centre.co.uk

The unique location of this centre on the Isle of Man makes it an ideal venue for all the outdoor pursuits that are offered. Glens, fields and lakes provide the setting for most of the activities here, while older group members can go kayaking along the coastline.

Adventure courses specifically for families (based on a minimum of two adults and two kids) are available. All meals are prepared and served by the staff, bunkhouse accommodation and all local transport is included and the activity programme consists of three activities per day.

3) Kingswood Centres

www.kingswood.co.uk Kingswood Centres organise fantastic residential educational visits and school trips that focus on team-building, bonding and physical exercise. There’s endless amounts of cool activities for kids including a Laser Zone, quad-biking, a miniature castle and blindfold obstacle courses.

4) Woodland Ways

www.woodland-ways.co.uk

Woodland Ways offer Family Bushcraft courses in the wild. You’ll learn how to work in harmony with nature and its changing seasons, learning skills like how to purify your water, prepare food outdoors, light your own fire, track and make your own shelter – which you’ll sleep in overnight. You’ll also spend your time animal tracking, making campfires and playing Bushcraft games.

5) ATE Residential Summer Camps

www.ate.org.uk

Kids can enjoy loads of fun activities at ATE. Midnight stargazing, making chocolate board-games and den-building in woods, are just a few. Each site has its own attractions, from swimming pools to castles and country houses. Operating over Easter and Summer, ATE offer loads of different “Superweeks” with activities ranging from Arts and Crafts to ATE Olympics and even a Spy School.

Further Information

For further information and more great ideas about kids’ holidays, log on to www.myfamilyuk.com. We’ve got loads of tips, treats and games to keep kids occupied over the holidays, as well as articles on how to plan fun family getaways.

About Author

MyFamilyUK –
About the Author:

My Family UK is a brand new website that is turning the online focus back onto families. We’re dedicated to helping you and your family have fun together, supporting your through a solid collection of articles, tips and ideas on everything from holidays to relaxation, from health to insurance. Visit www.myfamilyuk.com now!

Here are some reasons for looking up horse racing videos on the internet:

1) Technique – many people watch horse racing videos in order to refine their technique. Now, we all know that horse racing today exists mainly for gambling. Yes, some people could reason out that watching some mammals run around in circles can be exciting but the fact is, it is made more exciting by the prospect of getting your hands on some cold hard cash.

Many people watch horse racing videos in order to refine their techniques in either racing or gambling. Some watch horse racing videos in order to observe which horses or jockeys can help them get their hands on some money. They observe horse racing videos in order to perfect the technique of gambling. Hey, we all know that gambling is often governed by luck, but what the hell, let’s make gambling into a science.

Some jockeys also watch horse racing videos in order to strategize their races. They try to improve their techniques in order to gain the advantage in a race. You see, horse racing is not just about speed, it is also about finesse. A jockey needs to be able to plan out his or her passes while riding at breakneck speeds. Improving these techniques, of course, will help jockeys win. By watching horse racing videos, they can observe their old mistakes and make improvements. They are also able to observe their opponents and study their techniques. Through this, they can find a way to neutralize their opponents’ techniques and keep the advantage.

2) Entertainment – of course, there are people who just experience a thrill when they watch horse racing videos. They watch horse racing videos in order to see just how far a man and animal could push themselves and work together in order to achieve a single objective. People admire the way that a man could control such a powerful animal in order to win a race.

People who watch horse racing videos do so because they want to be entertained. Sometimes, those who go to the track do not really find the show to be very entertaining. Some are actually left disappointed by the general air of gambling within the race track. They come hoping to witness a battle of prowess between gladiators and they leave when they realize that all they can see are the heads and hands of people who are leaping because they just won the jackpot. Winning can be terrific… unless you’re just a spectator.

3) Passion – some people just watch horse racing videos because for them, racing is a passion. These people enjoy a good horse racing video no matter how many times they have already watched it. They go “oooh” and “aah” at the various sights of horse racing. They analyze every second of the horse racing video and talk about how the winner raced his or her way to victory.

About Author

Jonas Glass –
About the Author:

Information on salmonella virus can be found at the Health And Nutrition Tips site.

                Although the current station had been constructed on the site of the old Ffestiniog/Great Western Railway Station in 1833, the original Ffestiniog line had terminated in Duffws, which had opened for passenger operations in 1866 and had closed in 1930.  The modern-day Blaenau Ffestiniog Station, opened in 1982, was a joint facility with the Network Rail Conway Valley Branch Line.

                A lurch, created by the initial snagging of the car couplings, and a second whistle, preceded the train’s initial movement beyond the platform.  Sandwiched between gray rock walls, built up of seemingly tracing paper thin slate, the relatively minuscule steam engine, pulling its string of narrow passenger car bogies, plunged through a night-transforming tunnel, reemerging abreast of rolling green hills.

                 The Ffestiniog Railroad had its origins in the mining industry.  A significant housing demand, along with the slate to roof them, had been created by the Industrial Revolution, and the mountains of North Wales, rich in such resources, were quickly accessed by a myriad of rail lines which connected the high-elevation mines with the sea-level ports.

                In 1798, W.A. Madocks, acquiring some land parcels, performed a series of reclamation projects, including that of Traeth Mawr shore, which extended inland to Port Aberglaslyn, and that of the Great Embankment, known as the “Cob,” across the estuary.  The Cob itself, diverting the River Glaslyn, created a natural harbor called Port Madoc which later became known as “Porthmadog.”

                Initial slate deposit mining occurred in the mountains near Blaenau Ffestiniog.  The product, transported by pack animal-drawn farm carts over rough road to the River Dwyryd, was then transferred on to shallow-draft river boats and taken downstream for further transfer to large sailing ships.

                The primitive, manual arrangement soon proved incapable of satisfying the demand, and a railway, surveyed by James Spooner, from Worcestershire, was constructed and incorporated as the Festiniog Railway by an Act of Parliament on May 23, 1832.  Although it ran on track, it continued to use non-motorized propulsion, gravity-induced during descent and horse-pulled during return.  At 23.5 inches, the narrow-gauge track corresponded to that of quarry railroads, and proved advantageous during both operational phases: it was wide enough to permit horses to efficiently haul the empty cars up the mountain, yet narrow enough to permit easy negotiation of the multitudinous curves mandated by the mountainous terrain.

                Demand, soon eclipsing the horse-chain-gravity system, pointed to the need for steam engine power, but this proved unfeasible because of two initially-insurmountable restrictions:

1. Operation of a steam engine on such a narrow gauge had been envisioned as impractical.
2. Passengers could only be legally carried over British standard gauge track, of 4 feet, 8.5 inches.

Commencing its descent from 710 feet to sea level, the narrow-gauge chain made the steep, one-mile sprint from Summit Cutting to Tanygrisiau, where it joined a Blaenau Ffestiniog-bound train, already stopped on the other track.  Originally opened in 1866, it had featured a continuous gradient to Boston Lodge in order to permit gravity to pull its heavy, slate-filled cars toward the coast.  The station itself had not reopened as part of the later tourist railroad until 1978.  After a brief pause, the train once again regained momentum.

The restrictions, impeding steam technology implementation on the route, were not overcome until Charles Easton Spooner, James Spooner’s son, took over the railroad in 1856 and thence invited tenders to design and build such a locomotive, not awarding a contract until seven years later, in 1863, to George England and Company for four small locomotives.  The first of these, the Princess, in a 0-4-0 side configuration with tenders for coal, became the world’s first narrow-gauge passenger car-propelling steam engine when it had entered service with the Ffestiniog Railroad in October of that year.  The Mountaineer, entering service concurrently, had been followed by the Prince and the Palmerston in 1864.  The Prince had earned several titles, including that of oldest working engine on the Ffestiniog Railroad, that of the oldest working engine anywhere in the world, and that of the oldest engine still in steam configuration on its original line, although its tender had been converted to carry oil as opposed to its original coal in order to reduce the risk of line side fires.

The Board of trustees ultimately granted the railroad permission to transport passengers, making it Britain’s first narrow-gauge, passenger-carrying rail line, although it initially only carried quarrymen.  Increasing demand was satisfied with the introduction of two more locomotives, the Welsh Pony and the Little Giant, in 1867.  The former, built by George England as a larger, more capable successor to its original four engines, had featured saddle tanks from inception, while its earlier derivatives had been reconfigured to this standard.

Skirting round the left side of the silver-surface appearing lake, the Ffestiniog Railroad traveled past grazing white sheep, which almost appeared as topographical extensions of the rolling, velvet green hills.  Plunging into a mountain-bored tunnel, it was once again engulfed by darkness, its internal lights temporarily providing the only illumination.

Two miles before reaching Dduallt, the train followed a 35-foot-high deviation spiral, which had been rebuilt in 1965 so that the Ffestiniog Power Station could be installed.  The station itself, opened in 1865 and operating with its own Station Master before World War II, passed without cessation.

Campbell’s Platform, following in quick succession, had been a private station which had served Dduallt Manor, a small manor house partly dating to the 15th century.  Colonel Andrew Campbell, who had been a licensed explosive handler and had helped construct the Dduallt Spiral, had purchased the house in 1962 and had stored his own diesel locomotive in its shed, using it to travel as far as Tan y Bwlch.

Emerging from the Garnedd Tunnel and maintaining a high-shrill screech as the spark-igniting wheels of its passenger carriages rounded the turns, the train passed through tall, needle-thin pine and Llyn Mair (Lake Mair) became visible through the left windows.  Briefing stopping at Tan y Bwlch, it accepted two passengers.  Opened in 1873, Tan y Bwlch had reclosed 66 years later in 1939, and was reactivated with the restoration in 1958.

The Ffestiniog Railroad’s later engines, although more powerful, had only proved a temporary remedy, as escalating demand indicated the need for additional track and an Act so authorizing it was passed in 1869.  However, the cost and engineering obstacles of doubling the existing line proved prohibitive and the solution again lay in the design of a still more powerful locomotive which could pull longer, higher-capacity trains.  Such a design, however, incorporating the optimum combination of features, seemed an inherent contradiction, for, while a larger, more powerful locomotive would be able to haul longer, heavier trains, it would be equally unable to round the sharp curves and climb the steep gradients characteristic of narrow-gauge, mountain topographical mining railroads.

The solution emanated from Robert Fairlie, a railway engineer, who designed a double-bogie engine, the Little Wonder, in a 0-4-4-0T configuration, comprised of a single longer, rigid boiler, but erroneously appearing like two smaller locomotives attached together like bookends.  Built by the Fairlie Engine and Steam Carriage Company, it produced more than double the power of the smaller single engines, yet could easily negotiate the track’s tight curves and steep inclines.

In 1872, the Ffestiniog Railroad also became the first user of passenger bogie coaches in Great Britain.

Although the line prospered for some 83 years, less expensive tiles eventually replaced slate as roofing material and its purpose gradually diminished until, in 1946, it had been forced to cease operations.  The original Princess locomotive had been the last to run.  The Welsh Pony had undergone major overhauls in 1891 and 1915, but its boiler had been condemned in 1938.

A Preservation Society, founded to restore and reopen the line, rebuilt a 2.5-mile track section which had been flooded in order to make way for a hydroelectric station, and today the railroad enjoys a resurgence as a steam engine-powered, narrow-gauge tourist train which travels the 13 miles between Porthmadog and Blaenau Ffestiniog several times per day.

Belching billowing white smoke, the steam engine passed Plas Halt, a station opened in 1963 to serve the Plas Tan y Bwlch, a house from the 1600s and the seat of the Oakley family, a quarry owner from the late 18th century to 1961.  In 1975 the house had become a Snowdonia National Park residential study center.  Now at a 375-foot-elevation and halfway through its 13-mile journey, the carriages rocked laterally as their wheels clanked over the narrow rails.  A snaking river seemed to descend below the train as the valley receded below.          

The Ffestiniog Railroad operated a variety of restored, narrow-gauge passenger bogie carriages, typical of which had been the Number 11.  Originally built in 1880 by the Gloster Wagon Company of Gloster, it had served as the railroad’s Number 4 car, but had been reconstructed during the 1928-1929 period as a passenger/brake carriage.  Reentering service in 1956 with the new, post-mining tourist railroad, it subsequently appeared with an observation saloon and end windows after a second refit the following year, and was mounted on a steel underframe in 1967.

                The current Number 12, also having been built by the Gloster Wagon Company and having served as the Number 5 car, had seen service as a passenger/brake carriage after its 1929-1930 reconstruction.  One of the first two cars to be restored by the Preservation Society, it reentered service in 1955, and two years later had been fitted with a buffet counter and a side corridor, and had been coupled to Carriage Number 11.  Having been lengthened and also mounted on a steel underframe, it operated for some 20 years until a 1982 renovation saw the removal of the buffet counter and the installation of a new seating arrangement.

                My carriage had been configured with dual, facing seats on the left and single, facing seats on the right, which were upholstered in red material and separated by wood-grained tables.  The first class compartment, located mid-way in the carriage, had been accessed by hinged doors opening into either outer coach section, which was adorned with blue-upholstered seat pairs on either side and the wood-grained separating tables.  The carriage’s ceiling was arched and wood paneling covered its side walls.  Train attendants took orders for hot drinks, crisps and chocolates, cakes and biscuits, soft drinks, and alcoholic beverages.

                Rhiw Goch, a crucial point on the original Ffestiniog Railroad, had been the station where the loaded, descending trains met the empty, ascending ones.  A horse stage station between 1836 and 1863, it had been the location of contractor-provided horses, which hauled the empty slate wagons over each stage.  The horses themselves were transported to the lower stage station in dandy wagons.

                Stopping at Penrhyn at 1305, the train was now ten miles from Blaunau Ffestiniog and at a 160-foot elevation.  The station, opened in 1865, had been reconstructed with material from the old Porthmadog Station in 1879.  The stop itself had reopened with the new Ffestiniog Railroad in 1956.

                Emitting a heavy trail of billowing steam, the engine led its snaking chain of carriages through low, dense green vegetation, having left the high-elevation of the mountains behind it.

                Minffordd, opened in 1872, had been the rail interchange with the Cambrian Coast Line and the site of the Outdoor Engineering Depot in the former Slate Trans-Shipment Yard.

                The silver-gray surface of the harbor, visible ahead and to the left, was now separated by flat marsh which extended from the tracks to the shore.

                Boston Lodge, which had originally opened in 1928, had been the location of the Boston Lodge Works, the quarry site for the stone used in building the Cob between 1808 and 1811, while the Boston Lodge itself had served as the office and stables during its construction.  The 1856 Weigh House, perched on its top end, had been used to weigh the loaded, descending slate trains, but was later superseded by Minffordd in 1872.

                Following the coast, the train turned to the left where the tracks blossomed into six and pulled into the Porthmadog Station, which had originally opened in 1865 and was now alive with crowds awaiting the return ascent to Blaenau Ffestiniog.

                The line, whether hauling slate for mining, transporting passengers for profit, or carrying tourists for pleasure had succeeded in maintaining its usefulness for some 150 years.    

About Author

Robert G. Waldvogel –
About the Author:

A graduate of Long Island University-C.W. Post Campus with a summa-cum-laude BA Degree in Comparative Languages and Journalism, I have subsequently earned the Continuing Community Education Teaching Certificate from the Nassau Association for Continuing Community Education (NACCE) at Molloy College, the Travel Career Development Certificate from the Institute of Certified Travel Agents (ICTA) at LIU, and the AAS Degree in Aerospace Technology at the State University of New York – College of Technology at Farmingdale. Having amassed almost three decades in the airline industry, I managed the New York-JFK and Washington-Dulles stations at Austrian Airlines, created the North American Station Training Program, served as an Aviation Advisor to Farmingdale State University of New York, and devised and taught the Airline Management Certificate Program at the Long Island Educational Opportunity Center. A freelance author, I have written some 70 books of the short story, novel, nonfiction, essay, poetry, article, log, curriculum, training manual, and textbook genre in English, German, and Spanish, having principally focused on aviation and travel, and I have been published in book, magazine, newsletter, and electronic Web site form. I am a writer for Cole Palen’s Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome in New York. I have made some 350 lifetime trips by air, sea, rail, and road.

teak outdoor furniture is a popular choice by many due to its strength, durability and the ability to withstand most weather conditions. In fact during the eighteenth century, it was almost entirely used on seagoing vessels as decks and railings, particularly because of its resistance to weather and water damage. It was the wood garnished from many vessels, once they were retired, they were used to construct the first teak outdoor furniture.

Remember with this track record, it’s easy to perceive why this tropical wood is generally regarded as one of the leading materials for building outdoor furniture, be it lounges, deck chairs, tables or benches.

While using wood for outdoor furniture, you need to have something that is extremely strong and naturally resistant to the weather outside. Direct sunlight, rain, snow can be quite harmful to wood and hence one has to be careful of the type of wood that one is using for outdoor furniture. Teak wood is great for outdoor furniture due to its natural properties such as being high in natural oils, and resistance to rupture because of its tight grain.

The properties that make teak such a well-suited material for this use are two-fold. To begin with,teak outdoor furniture is high in natural oils, making it in nature very resistant to rain, snow, and other harmful weather conditions. Second, it has an outstandingly tight grain that resists breakage and rupture. Both of these qualities have served to make it perfect for constructing outdoor furniture.

Possibly the best draw of this proven outdoor furniture is that maintenance required to keep it efficient: none. Depending on how you want your furniture to look, it’s absolutely acceptable to never touch your furniture except when you’re relaxing and kicking back in it on a beautiful, sunny day. As mentioned earlier, it won’t decompose, rupture or worsen in any way. The only consequence of no maintenance is that it will eventually turn a light shade of silvery grey, a look that a lot of homeowners actually enjoy. If one wants to avoid this and preserve the natural honey color then teak sealer can be used. Even the old furniture can get back the natural honey color by using a teak cleaner and then putting the teak sealer on it.

Teak is a bit more expensive than other outdoor furniture materials, but its high price is justified. You must remember that the teak outdoor furniture you buy for your patio or deck will last you a lifetime and doesn’t require replacement. And so to recap, some of the many benefits of buying teak outdoor furniture include: comfort, style, material and longevity. Looking for quality outdoor furniture, teak outdoor furniture wins hands-down.

About Author

John Stidolph –
About the Author:

Boy did I have a great time selecting our children’s rocking chairs over at Garden Teak Furniture.com. They helped me choose the right style of rocking chairs so that it fit well with the teak outdoor furniture We had purchased there a year ago.

About Author

Daniel Kreimer –
About the Author:

Dan has been writing articles for nearly 4 years. Come visit his latest website
over at http://viscoelasticfoammattressdeals.com/
which helps people find the best Cheap Memory Foam Mattress and information they are looking for when doing home renovation.

                Dwarfed by Royal Caribbean’s 137,000-ton, balcony-lined metropolis, Enchantment of the Seas, docked ahead of it, the 180.45-meter-long Royal Princess, sporting only a tenth of the former ship’s gross weight at 30,200 tons, featured a 28.3-meter molded breadth, ten decks, and accommodated 710 passengers and 340 crew members.  The relatively tiny vessel would serve as my floating home for the next two weeks and would connect, by sea, the North and South American continents.

                Powered by four 13,500 kW diesel electric engines running at 720 rpms, it featured two four-bladed, 750 kW bow thrusters, two 19.4-square-meter semi-balanced rudders, two 9.9 square-meter stabilizers, and cruised between 18 and 20 knots.

                Built by Chantiers de l’Atlantique in St. Nazaire, France, in 2000, it had been first delivered as the Minerva II the following year, but had been reconfigured and rechristened as the present Royal Princess in 2007 when Princess Cruise Lines had acquired it.

                Tender embarkation and the Purser’s Desk had been located on Decks 3 and 4, respectively, but all of the public rooms had been on Decks 5, 9, and 10.  On the former had been the Cabaret Lounge, the casino bar, the Photo Gallery, the shops, the fine art gallery, and the Club Restaurant and bar, while Deck 9 sported the spa, the styling salon, the fitness center, the card room, the pool bar, the pool itself, the barbecue grill, the pizzeria, and the Panorma Buffet.  The Royal Lounge, directly above on Deck 10, had been followed by the internet café, the fitness track, the library, the Sterling Steakhouse, and Sabatini’s Trattoria.

                Releasing its mooring lines at 1705, the 30,200-ton Royal Princess maneuvered from its port berth by means of its thrusters, following the wake of Enchantment of the Seas down the narrow, dark blue Intracoastal Waterway thresholding Port Everglades beneath powder blue skies, and then commenced a gradual, starboard arc behind the lumbering cruise liner at a four-knot speed.

                Clearing the rocky, pencil-thin breakwater embankment at a 15-knot speed 30 minutes after engine start, the yacht-appearing ship disembarked its local pilot and assumed a 082-degree heading.  Enchantment of the Seas itself had angled off the forward, starboard side to commence its Eastern Caribbean itinerary.

                The indistinguishable silhouettes of Ft. Lauderdale, now six miles behind the stern and further inhibited by the blinding sun hovering behind them, receded in the distance, the last glimpse of North America.

                The Club Restaurant, the Royal Princess’s main dining venue located on Deck 5, had been adorned with dark wood paneling and red suede upholstery and featured a bar, small round tables, and a simulated marble fireplace at its entrance, while the main dining salon itself sported multiple-story windows in the stern.  The first dinner at sea had included Cabernet Sauvignon; a lobster and seafood terrine with dill-mustard emulsion; cheese tortellini and spinach soup; watercress, red radish, and iceberg lettuce smothered with homemade bleu cheese dressing; barramundi and pencil asparagus with hazelnut butter, lemon herbed Israeli couscous; a banana nut parfait with caramel sauce; and coffee.

                The sun, an orange concentric circle, had inched toward the western horizon, from where it had dripped into tomorrow, rendering the sky a star-glowing black.  Paralleled off the starboard side by the lighted silhouettes of two Port Everglades-originating megaliners, the Royal Princess, a kindred, although isolated spirit in the civilization-disconnected void of ocean, had begun to arc into a 109-degree, southeasterly heading off of Grand Bahama Island in the Northwest Providence Channel, now poised to pass Bimini and thread its way between Abaco and Eleuthera and out to the Atlantic Ocean.  Maintaining a 19-knot steam speed, it had traversed 104 miles in the path between Fort Lauderdale and its current coordinate.

                Balcony stateroom 6055, located on Deck 6, would serve as my temporary, two-week residence and had been appointed with twin beds covered floral spreads; ornate, bedroom-style lamps and wooden backboards; a two-person sofa and a round table; dark wood closets, cabinetry, and writing desk; blue, printed carpeting and drapery; a sliding glass door balcony; and a showered bathroom. 

Day Two

                Maintaining a 121-degree heading and a 19.3-knot steam speed at 1200, the Royal Princess, gliding through small wavelets east of Cat Island, the Bahamas, had covered 340 nautical miles since its departure from Ft. Lauderdale, having reached a 24-degree, 25’ north latitude and 74-degree, 92’ west longitude position.  The warm, 24-degree Celsius temperature, had been tempered by a 19-mph wind out of the southeast.

              The Panorama Buffet, located in the stern on Deck 9, with both outdoor and indoor seating, featured an American-themed lunch buffet of southern fried chicken, Texas chili, corn-on-the-cob, rice pilaf, onion rings, and a salad of diced carrots, sprouts, seeds, nuts, and green goddess dressing.

              Pitching on its lateral axis, the Royal Princess assumed a rhythmic, bow-to-stern rock, the ship momentarily biting into the ocean and unleashing a fury of white, avalanche-like reactions of froth into the water at 45-degree angles from its hull.  To the west, but invisible to the eye, lay Rum Cay.

              Cacooned in the ship-wide, wood-paneled, green-marbled, book-lined library located on Deck 10, which overlooked the sea on either of its sides and the pool ahead of it, I wrote, periodic, suspended-moment contributions added to my ever-lengthening Cruise Log.

              Bombarded by the billowing, hot Caribbean wind, the 700-passenger ship plied the sea which, after some six months of having been supported by it and having sailed 50,000 miles through it, seemed a multiple-personality “human” to me.  At times smooth and calm like glass, it could equally spit furious, frothy-white anger at you.  The expanse out the starboard library windows, a reflection of the collected cloud islands, appeared a blinding silver glass surface, yet the view from the port windows, below an unmarred sky, had been one of deep-blue velvet.  Sea and soul both seemed reflections, and hence, manifestations, which temporarily, and somewhat rapidly, changed their states.  Of what the soul’s reflection had been, however, had not been so easily identifiable, at least not when it had been rendered a tumultuous one.

              Princess’s signature Sailaway Dinner, served in the Club Restaurant, included Pinot noir wine; a blue crab claw quiche with dry roasted chili salsa; butter lettuce, curly endive, radicchio, and arugula with Russian dressing; twin beef filet mignons with madeira truffle demi-glaze and almond-potato croquettes; a pear in puff pasty topped with sauce anglaise and nutella ice cream; and coffee.

              Maintaining a 119-degree heading and an 18-knot steam speed east of Mayaguana in the Puerto Rico Trench at 2215, the Royal Princess, now 526 miles from its Florida origin, had been crowned by an intensely-black velvet sky in which the Big Dipper had burned its almost-glowing imprint.  Each bite of the ocean with the ship’s bow produced a violent explosion of blurry, white, snow-like condensation which the wind carried the length of the hull, saturating its temporary deck- and balcony-denizens.  So poised, it would pitch over the nocturnal bridge to tomorrow. 

Day Three

              Propelled by its engines, which transformed the dark blue of the ocean into a turquoise and frothy white wake, the Royal Princess had maintained its southeasterly course on the eastern fringes of the Atlantic throughout the night, paralleling the Turks and Caicos Islands and moving toward the Sombrero Passage.  Dawn refused to fully open its drapes, leaving the sky a light-devoid opaque and the sea a navy gray.

              The Panorama Buffet lunch included chicken satay with peanut sauce, Cantonese shrimp-fried rice, fried pot stickers, vegetable tempura, wasabi, and Asian rice pudding with dates and raisins.

              The tip of the bow, as evidenced by the forward, ship-side windows of the Royal Lounge on Deck 10, revealed but an arm’s length point, which continually bit into the deep blue at 1600, yet paradoxically stretched back toward, and widened into, a full-sized, 30,000-ton, balcony-lined vessel which supported the lives of well over a thousand souls and presently bridged two continents.  The sky, mostly filled with billowing white and dirty-white cumulous formations, appeared a series of tropopause-stretching mountains.

              The bow, like much of life, proved a tiny point, but it had been from all these tiny points from which all things had always seemed to grow, a theme somehow supported, if correctly interpreted, by the bow pointing toward what appeared, from my vantage point, of infinity.  It had not seemed to matter how many waves, large or small, the ocean could bowl toward the ship, they had always stretched, without perceptible end, toward the sea-and-sky horizon line.  For it seemed that it had been from this infinity, that the starting point—the ideas—had come, the very origin of the souls who had been endowed with the capability of this thought.

              Every manmade entity on the physical planet had begun with the thought which had initiated it, whether it could be singularly accomplished and completed, or collectively carried out—in effect, a smaller, although nonetheless fused, “whole.”

              Today’s very cruise had been made possible by a kindred “whole,” by those who had discovered the buoyancy theory, had devised naval engineering, had drafted the plans to design and construct the vessel, had processed earth’s raw materials into the parts and pieces of the design, and had mastered the techniques of navigating it.

              Yet, the navy Atlantic stretched before me had not, to my knowledge, been man-made, nor had the souls given the opportunity for autonomy, identity, personality, ability, and thought.  Like the bow, all things seemed to possess a “starting point,” a creation, if you will.

              I wonder who had created them…?

              Dinner, in the main dining venue that evening, had included white zinfandel wine; a wild mushroom tartlet with truffle oil and rock salt; Caesar salad; crawfish etoufee with Louisiana hot sauce and rice pilaf; chocolate cappuccino cake with orange-pineapple ice cream; and coffee.

              The sun, caught behind a mighty gray cumulous fortress, stretched its arms, manifested in a series of streaks, toward the ocean’s surface only moments after 1800, its physical descent all but obstructed until its light orange refraction oozed below the horizon line toward tomorrow.

              Dense, nocturnal cloud cover at 2200, whose visibility could only be detected by the stars’ invisibility, removed even that parameter from perception, leaving a black, dimensionless void through which the relatively small ship tunneled, and the fierce wind blowing across the open pool deck to hint at motion north of the Virgin Islands.  Even that, without the white explosions of water projecting from the hull’s sides, could not be fully verified.

              How, indeed, does one capture something in words when there is, in reality, nothing—when, by the process of elimination, no senses remain to stimulate and hence to which to connect adjectives?  The state certainly applied to the description of the ship’s perception of motion.

              Yet the cruise liner’s instrumentation, like the unwinding of a clock, had revealed progress during its two-day sea suspension.  Maintaining a slower, 16-knot forward speed at the eastern end of the Puerto Rico Trench, it had covered 951 miles since it had initiated its journey and now imminently approached the tiny French island of St. Barthelemy in the Caribbean, with 134 miles remaining to traverse. 

Day Four

Gray tendrils, like smoke rising from the dark sea, corkscrewed into the pre-dawn sky at 0645, only a faint orange whitewash brushed between them.  Having navigated the Sombrero Passage throughout the night, the just returning-to-life vessel closed the final gap to its first port-of-call.

Passing 0.60 nautical miles off of Pain de Sucre Island some 90 minutes later, the Royal Princess, now beneath brilliantly blue, early-morning skies, commenced its final approach in the equally, flawlessly blue water toward the yacht- and sailboat-anchored harbor, threshold to the small, mulitple-hilled, green-carpeted, and red roof-dotted island of St. Barthelemy and its Gustavia capital.

Weighing its right anchor with six shackles at 0828 at a 54-degree, 41-minute north latitude and 62-degree, 52-minute west longitude coordinate, the ship rotated to multiple compass headings throughout the day beneath the baking, blinding Caribbean sun.  Fort Lauderdale, its origin, lay 1,094 nautical miles northwest of it now, a path, for me, of physical separation and internal self-examination.

A quick breafkast in the Panorama Buffet had included cranberry juice and oatmeal with raisins, pears, and bananas.

Located 15 miles southeast of St. Maarten in the Lesser Antilles, St. Bathelemy, whose eight-square-mile area supports a 5,043-strong, French-speaking population, had been discovered in 1493 during Christopher Columbus’ second voyage, who named it “Batholomew” after his brother.

Because of its rocky topography, which, unlike that of neighboring Caribbean islands, renders it infertile and therefore unsuitable for agriculture, it had remained uninhabited until Frenchmen from Guadeloupe had settled there in 1648.  After 230 years of possession claims by France, England, and Sweden, it definitively became a French-owned Royal Colony of Guadeloupe in 1878.

Its present-day popularity had been sparked in 1945 when Englishman Remy de Haenen arrived and constructed a house which he later transformed into the island’s first guest house, attracting wealthy Europeans and Americans.  That guest house is the current Eden Rock Hotel.

A light lunch in the Panorama Buffet had included a chef’s salad with cucumber, carrots, seeds, nuts, bleu cheese dressing, sliced turkey, tuna salad, and tomato foccaccia bread.

Pursuing a 202-degree heading and maintaining an 18-knot steam speed by early evening, the Royal Princess had already placed a 20-mile gap between itself and the island of St. Bathelemy, its temporary reconnection point to land, civilization, and each other, leaving its kindred-spirit Wind Surf and SeaDream I vessels behind in the harbor.

The sun, collecting into orange, cylindrical energy on the western horizon, reduced the sea slate to a dark navy and the island to a sheer silhouette below pink-and-gray, dusk-brushed cloud islands, leaving the colorless gray of the diametrically-opposed ocean and sky strata, the emotional descent after the enthusiasm, the silence after the music.

The Caribbean Sea, whose suboceanic basin covers 1,063,000 square miles and stretches between nine and 22 degrees north latitude and 60 and 89 degrees west longitude, is bordered by the Greater Antilles islands in the north; the Panamanian, Colombian, and Venezuelan coasts in the south; the Lesser Antilles islands in the east; and the Yucatan peninsula, Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica in the west and is 25,216 feet deep in its Cayman Trench, which threads its way between Cuba and Jamaica.

Believed to have been originally connected to the Mediterranean Sea 245 to 570 million years ago during the Paleozoic period, it had gradually separated, forming the present Atlantic Ocean.  Covered by carib beds, it sits on half-mile-thick sediment from the Mesozoic and Cenozoic periods, arching in the middle, but dipping near landmasses.

Its five roughly elliptical submarine basins, separated by submerged ridges, include the Yucatan, the Cayman, the Colombian, the Venezuelan, and the Grenada.  Sub-surface water enters the Caribbean Sea across two sills below the Anegada Passage, itself located between the Virgin Islands and the Windward Passage between Cuba and Hispaniola.

The low and high salinity southern currents primarily enter the Caribbean Sea through channels and passages of the southern Antilles, trade wind-propelled through the narrow Yucatan channel into the Gulf of Mexico.

Believing he had discovered a new passage to Asia, Christopher Columbus had been the first European to sail the Caribbean Sea in 1492, landing in the Bahamas and later founding a Spanish colony on the island of Hispaniola.  17th-century voyagers, such as William Dampier, published their observations concerning the area’s natural history, while the British Challenger Expedition, occurring in 1873, had been followed four years later by the American Expedition on the Blake.

The Caribbean’s submerged coral reefs, supported by clear water and uniformly-warm temperatures, provide the base for most of its shallow-depth flora and fauna, while its tropical climate, varying according to elevation, trade wind, and current, result in divergent rainfalls, from ten inches in Bonaire to 350 inches in Dominica.

Disconnected from the whole, the Royal Princess assumed autonomy, identity, and individuality.  No longer at its origin, it had been free to forge, without boundaries or restrictions, its own path.  I wondered, however, if that path could be considered “forged” or “followed.”  The former indicated one which it itself had created and could only be identified by looking behind it.  The latter implied one which had been predetermined and could only be identified by looking ahead of it, whether it had actually been followed yet or not.

Examination, upon retrospect, clearly indicated that a cruise ship had been designed and created for the general purposes of transportation and vacation, but that the actual operator determined its sailing program of duration, days and times of operation, and ports-of-call.  The ship, therefore, followed its predetermined path, but only forged it after it had been completed.  That path could only be considered a series of multiple, shorter sectors, comprised of individual cruises or itineraries, or the complete journey, after it had been removed from service.  There would, undoubtedly, have been both smooth and rough seas during that interval, along with good and less-than-good events, but its overall performance could only be judged, by its creator, when it had completed its collective mission.  It would then be able to judge its role within the greater scheme.

I wonder how this related to my own life path.  I, too, had disconnected from the whole and had assumed autonomy, identity, and individuality, but could not determine the limitations and boundaries these qualities had given me, questioning if their inherent freedoms had enabled me to forge my own path, without restrictions, or to have followed the path predetermined for me, in which case it had been the restriction.

The ship’s path had been determined by its operator, a determination comprised of a series of decisions.  My own path had also been determined by the decisions I had made regarding its direction, but, like a ship with an intended destination, my own direction had served as my destination.  This direction, therefore, had constituted the first “decision” and the path forged to reach it had constituted the subsequent series of smaller, individual ones.  If all this be true, then my own life path would clearly be a forged, or created, one.

If my direction had been determined by intended life goals and achievements, which themselves had been the result of earlier decisions, and if the steps deemed necessary to reach them had also been a series of decisions, then I still needed to examine what had caused me to choose the specific goal or achievement (direction) in the first place and what had caused me to choose the individual steps (decisions) to journey there in that manner.  The second of the two had been the easier to determine.

Endowed, like all humans, with reasoning and rationality, I consistently employed this primary ability in the “step process” toward the goal, but knowledge and experience, the secondary elements, infinitely improved my ability to do so.  It is doubtful that a person, lacking or deficient in these secondary aspects, could make the same decisions.

The reason behind the direction, or the decision concerning the direction, had been more difficult to determine.  Ostensibly and simplistically, life’s pursuits, such as preparing for a career, could result from the desire to attain a level of prestige or monetary wealth, but neither would likely occur without existing interest and ability—to which I would add the word “pre-existing” interest and ability.  Pursuing an activity because one “likes” or “enjoys” it is, again, a simplistic statement and concept, but what determines why he has that like is not so simplistic to define.  One can, for example, “decide” to try a new endeavor in life, the degree of liking sometimes only determinable after its sampling.  But it is doubtful that one can simply “decide” to “like” something or “decide” to have the “ability” to succeed at it.  Again, interest, penchants, abilities, and likes do not seem to emanate from any innate willingness or self-propagation, but instead from a source beyond us.  Each of us, I believe, has the ability to perform some endeavor or activity better and more precisely than any other—so much so, that that endeavor is not even equitable to work, although it may be a grave, grueling effort for others, and therefore its execution is almost like an extension of that person, resulting in an internal satisfaction and fulfillment which becomes the reward in and of itself for performing it, whether monetary compensation is ever actually received or not in exchange for it.

This indicates that this spark, or inspiration, provides the striven-for activity, field, area, or goal, and that that goal is predetermined before our very own creations.  But does that then not signify that one’s life path is “followed” as opposed to “created?”

I do not feel, as I negotiate the world, that I am being deliberately drawn toward certain actions or compelled or commanded to take the steps which I have hitherto taken.  If this had been the case, then all of these steps would have been correct ones and some, upon retrospect, had not been.  Yet the ultimate goals, which had provided the direction, such as in the fields of aviation, teaching, writing, foreign language, travel, and photography in my life, had been compelling beyond myself and euphorically rewarding, as if their pursuit during my life path had been the equivalent of a long-forgotten, detoured, but ultimately re-intercepted eternal path—all of which indicates, by deductive reasoning, retrospection, and experience, that my life’s direction had been predetermined—the very reason for my creation—but that the individual steps taken to travel there had been based upon my own free-willed decisions.

The veil of blackness had intermittently fallen outside and at 2210, pursuing a 148-degree heading, the Royal Princess had been 90 miles south of St. Barthelemy.  

That evening’s Italian-themed dinner in the Pizzeria on Deck 9 had featured Chianti classico; antipasto of roasted red and green peppers and eggplant drizzled with balsamic vinegar and served with shaved parmesan cheese; an individual casserole of lasagna al forno; dark chocolate mousse; and coffee. 

Day Five

Heaving on all axes like a toy boat, the Royal Princess had bridged the Leeward and Windward Islands on a southeasterly heading throughout the night, paralleling St. Christopher, Guadeloupe, and Martinique.  Crawling at a ten-knot steam speed at 0809, it embarked its local pilot, who navigated the ship the remaining 1.3 miles to its second port-of-call, St. Lucia, through the channel to Castries Harbor below the huge cumulous quilt of morning, which had torn directly above the hull, revealing the day’s first pouring of blue.

Rotating abreast of the already-docked Costa Atlantica, the smaller Princess “yacht” had pulled itself sternwards by its water-grinding thrust reversers, ejecting its first mooring line, like a high-speed, slithering snake, at 0856 toward the concrete for a port berth at a 14-degree, 00-minute north latitude and 60-degree, 59-minute west longitude coordinate at La Place Carenage.  The skies definitively opened to an illustriously blue morning in the Caribbean.

St. Lucia, whose 27-mile-long by 14-mile-wide dimensions result in a 238-square-mile area, supports a 156,000-strong population, most of whom live in Castries, its capital.  Part of the Windward Islands, and located 21 miles from Martinique, it had featured a colorful history created by a diverse succession of inhabitants.

The Ciboneys, the first of these, had been hunters and gatherers, but little remains of their lifestyle, including the reason for their disappearance, and they had been followed by the Arawaks, who had survived for some 800 years, engaging in pottery, weaving, agriculture, and shipbuilding.  The Kalinago, who had alternatively been known as the “Caribs,” conquered the Arawaks, killing their males, but retaining their females as wives.

St. Lucia, originally called “Iouanala” or “Hewanorra” in Amerindian, meaning “there where the iguana is found,” adopted the designation of “Santa Alousie” in the late-16th century when the Spaniards had first arrived and diluted their supremacy.  Francois Le Clerc, a pirate and the first European settler, had attacked passing Spanish vessels during his residency on Pigeon Island.  The English, making an unscheduled landfall in 1605 when their ship, the Olive Branch, had been blown off course on its journey to Guyana, purchased huts from the Kalinago, but of the 67 who had disembarked, only 19 had survived after the first month and subsequently fled in canoes.

Although the French West India Company had taken legal ownership of St. Lucia in 1651, 14 different groups would stake claim to it in the almost 175 years until it had finally been ceded to the British in 1814.

The thriving sugar cane industry rapidly declined in 1794 when slavery, mostly from Africa, had been abolished.

Despite the continued use of some French and Creole, English had become the island’s official language in 1842, and 40 years later, the first immigrants, from Uttar-Pradesh and Bihar, India, had arrived.  In 1967, it had been granted self-governing status by England, and on February 22, 1979, it had become an independent nation within the British Commonwealth.

As the white quilt of sky had settled atop the green-forested mountains of St. Lucia and the pre-dusk silence had settled on Castries at the end of the work week, the Royal Princess had retracted its thick, taught mooring lines from the concrete dock and almost imperceptibly separated itself from land, inching past the Costa Atlantica and the threshold of the runway serving the George F. L. Charles Airport.  Pointing its bow toward the blinding yellow western horizon, it exited the harbor and disembarked its local pilot at 1745 before moving out to open sea.

That evening’s dinner in the Club Restaurant had featured merlot wine; vegetable hot pot soup with miniature empenadas; seasonal field greens with celeriac, tomatoes, and green goddess dressing; tiger shrimp kebabs with mango-lime relish and jasmine rice; chocolate-banana brioche pudding with caramel sauce and rocky road ice cream; and coffee.

Pursuing an easterly-southeasterly course through the St. Vincent Passage, the Royal Princess commenced its brief, suspended interlude between St. Lucia and Barbados, its third port-of-call, beneath star-sparkling night skies, but bit into the almost-surreal sea which churned into ethereal, aerial spray only short of mist.  Maintaining a 141-degree heading and ten-knot steam speed, it penetrated the dank, humid, 85-degree evening, the orange pinpoints of light representing the silhouette of the southern tip of St. Lucia 20 miles behind its stern.  The wind blew out of the east at 25 mph. 

Day Six

Approaching the Bridgetown pilot station serving the island of Barbados at 0700, the Royal Princess had embarked its local pilot 18 minutes later.  Docking to port at the “Sugar berth” amid a fleet of several cruise liners, among them the Explorer of the Seas, the Veendam, and the five-masted Royal Star, the Princess ship appendaged itself to the island on that crystal blue morning at a 13-degree, 06-minute north latitude and 59-degree, 37-minute west longitude coordinate.

Measuring 14-by-21 miles, the independent, triangular-shaped island nation of Barbados features a 166-square-mile area and lies 100 miles east of the Windward Islands, separate from the Lesser Antilles archipelago.

Resting on a base of sedimentary deposits, with thick shales, clays, sands, and conglomerates formed 70 million years ago, it accrued a layer of chalky deposits capped with coral before it actually rose above the water surface.

Elevation varies according to area.  Mount Hillaby, at 1,115 feet its highest point, is located in the north central region, while the land descends in a series of terraces toward the sea in the west.  The decline in the east, from the mountain, moves toward the rugged Scotland District, while a sharp decline in the south leads to the St. George Valley.

The island’s first inhabitants, the Amerindians, occupied the area during the 1,000-year period from 500 to 1500 AD, and had been succeeded by the Spaniards who had arrived in the early 16th-century in search of slaves.  Because of its remote location and relatively small size, however, they had abandoned it less than 50 years later, and its prevailing winds, from the northeast, deterred most travel to it, Europe-originating vessels unable to reach it unless they sailed in a westerly direction, with the winds.

The unchallenged settlement of the English in 1627, from either Amerindians or Spaniards, had been fraught with other obstacles—notably infrequent provision sailings from Europe and the difficulty of establishing an export crop, although the Dutch had provided valuable assistance in 1640 in transitioning the island from tobacco and cotton to sugar.  Because of the latter’s scarcity in Europe, sugar cane cultivation and its sugar production had transformed it into a lucrative location with high demand and resultant profitability.

Remaining an uninterrupted British possession from its initial 17th-century settlement until November 30, 1966 when it had become an independent member of the Commonwealth, Barbados, the first island between Europe and Britain’s eastern Caribbean territories, is a major link between them, with a quarter century of supersonic Concorde service to its Grantley Adams International Airport and multiple, daily cruise ships to Bridgetown, its capital and only seaport.

Its primarily clay-, lime-, and phosphate-comprised soil supports sugarcane and tropical tree growth, including mahogany, while farmland is almost exclusively under the control of large landowners and corporations.  Small deposits of oil, natural gas, clay, limestone, and sand augment revenue generated by tourism, its rapidly-growing and primary foreign exchange revenue source.  Services, manufacturing, and agriculture are its three pillars of production.

An eclectic array of dishes in the Royal Princess’s Panorama Buffet that day had included turkey cutlet parmesan, goat cheese and artichoke tart, Cajun potato wedges, pickled vegetables, and a fresh berry and pastry cream tart for lunch.

Appendaged by a taught, thick rope on the aft, starboard side to the dark blue-and-yellow Pelican II tugboat, the Royal Princess laterally separated itself from the concrete dock at 1650, inching toward the black-and-white hulled Holland America Veendam.  Rotating its bow to a starboard, zero-degree, due-north heading, the comparatively tiny Princess ship paralleled the mammoth, 137,000-ton Explorer of the Seas.  Still accompanied by the pilot boat, yet autonomously moving under its own power in the darkening-blue, pre-dusk Port of Bridgetown, it exited the breakwaters and harbor-marked buoy and disembarked its local pilot at 1706, whose bobbing, cork-like boat turned 180 degrees and waved farewell.

Now under its own captain’s direction and command, the Royal Princess, so disconnected, assumed an initial 264-degree heading and an 8.7-knot speed, the ocean cresting into 45-degree angled waves from either of its sides beneath the white and silver cloud strata.  Metamorphosing itself into an intercontinental liner, it set sail for the tiny, hardly-populated Devil’s Island off the coast of South America.

The evening’s Club Restaurant dinner had featured white zinfandel wine; potato cream soup with Italian prosciutto; curly endive, iceberg lettuce, daikon cress, red radishes, and French dressing; chateaubriand, served with bernaise sauce and almond croquette potatoes; chocolate-peanut butter pie and chocolate marshmallow ice cream; and coffee.

Mighty streaks of energy, like the hands of God, stretched toward the sea from the charcoal cumulous, mostly obstructing and seemingly absorbing the sun’s yellow core, a soul of radiance.

Pitching and rolling like a cork at 2200, the Royal Princess, maintaining a moderate, 15-knot speed and now 74 miles from Barbados, penetrated howling, 26-mph winds out of the east which bombarded its port side.  The island of Tobago and the South American continent lurked somewhere in the southwest. 

Day Seven

Severely pivoting on its lateral and longitudinal axes throughout the night, the Royal Princess had re-intercepted daylight in little improved conditions: encroached in gray, sometimes slanting rain, it bit into the white caps and barreling waves with its bow, large, foamy, white, arctic snow sheet-resembling projections fanning out from either of its sides as it pinnacled each crest before once again descending into their valleys and repeating the process.  Pursuing a 139-degree heading and still maintaining a 15-knot forward speed at 1025, it had been north/northeast of Georgetown, Guyana, with 243 nautical miles between it and its last port-of-call.

The Mexican-themed lunch in the Panorama Buffet had included, among other dishes, a grilled chicken garden salad with bleu cheese dressing; Mexican rice; nachos with guacamole; and dark and white chocolate-dipped bananas.

Heaving on its axes and caught between the charcoal strata of sea below and cloud above at 1600, the tiny Royal Princess penetrated no-man’s land, that portion of ocean beyond the Caribbean Sea and its multitude of islands densely trafficked by cruise ships unleashing tourists by the thousands on a daily basis, and the desolate morosity of the northeastern quadrant of ocean off of South America where few ventured, destined for the pinpoint specks of the Salvation Islands, the gem of which, Devil’s Island, had “sparkled” with a penitentiary-inhabited population which had vacated the location in 1953, leaving a desolate, although tropically lush lilly pad visited only a few times per year by this very vessel.  I had indeed made a statement concerning the relative allocentricity of my travel, a decision whose steps I urgently needed to re-examine in order to re-establish how they had connected with each other and how they had somehow led to the current one.  Perhaps the brain’s logic of progression had failed to incorporate emotionalization in its deduction process.  Yet, here I was, and the idea of turning back now had been less logical than the one which had led me here.

Despite my internal hesitations, the ship externally plowed on at 15 knots…

Like the waves barreling toward the bow, life sometimes presented obstacles in our paths, whether or not we were ready to deal with them.  Could this have been inadvertent circumstance, fate, or a test to ascertain our often-unrevealed ability to surmount them?  If the latter had been the case, then it had been one more of life’s attempts to strengthen us.

The day’s denouement, as tantalized by the visual sensory channels, had traditionally characterized itself as one of ultimate, although brief, color spectacle, of oranges, auburns, reds, chartreues, and purples, of glows, refractions, and projections, whose audible equivalents could have been the crescendos of a symbol, followed by the emotional decline in parallel with that of light’s recline.  But the mostly-dark cumulostratus blanket above today had only promised the latter portion of the sequence, the reduction in shades to blackness.

If I could have reached out and captured what little light remained in the sky, which would have been a very muffled, camouflaged one, I would have done so in order to “retain” the day, to arrest if from dissolving into nothing but memory, not because the day itself had posed any significance to me, nor because it had any relation to a recollection of the current sailing, but just to have stopped it from leaving—although I do not quite know what.  Perhaps it had been a futile attempt to stop the time process, a process which I subconsciously knew paralleled my own earthly time process, whose period, like that of the day, would ultimately run out.  What would occur then?  Like my life’s span, the earth’s span would also ultimately run out.  What, indeed, would occur to it all then?

The seafood dinner in the Club Restaurant that evening had included Chardonnay wine; panko-crusted crab cakes with fennel fondue; mesclun salad with thousand island dressing; Alaskan halibut in Chablis sauce, served with tiny shrimp and boiled red potatoes; chocolate mousse atop a brownie base with raspberry ice cream; and coffee.

Plowing its temporary trench through the Equatorial Currents at 2215, now north of Paramaribo, Suriname, and 207 miles northeast of Devil’s Island, the 30,000-ton ship, still bombarded by fierce, hot, humid winds, trailed saturated mist plumes along its sides generated by explosive, sea water reactions.  The wave-induced pitch had intermittently subsided.

The day at sea had, alas, brought no startling revelations, only a few miles which had brought the vessel closer to its immediate destination, a short, although necessary, portion if its journey which, when coupled together, equaled its whole one.  Like my own life journey, the day had been one of many which, when coupled together, also equaled the whole one.  Unlike the ship’s journey, however, it had been difficult to determine its destination. 

Day Eight

The Royal Princess had closed the gap to the South American continent throughout the night.  Sunrise, officially occurring at 0647, had offered little more than the reverse of the previous evening’s sunset, a gradual re-introduction of light which had metamorphosed the external, horizontal strata into progressively lighter gray hues, but had failed to reveal any color or glow.

Cradled by the silver, almost mirror-reflective sea at 1000, the ship penetrated the hot, humid, 25-mph winds off the coast of French Guiana at a 13-knot steam speed, now 42 miles from its Devil’s Island port-of-call.

The day’s international lunch, served in the Panorama Buffet, had included chicken a la diavola, Greek moussaka, dirty rice, Mediterranean vegetables, vegetable gratin, and chocolate bread and butter pudding with vanilla sauce.

At 1300, the Royal Princess began its final approach to the Salvation Islands’ Pilot Station, their almost-gray silhouettes, devoid of an appreciable, topographical distinctions, appearing ahead and to the right of the bow beneath the mostly cloud-draped sky.  Reducing speed to little more than a crawl, it moved past St. Joseph, whose sandy perimeter received periodic onslaughts of white, foamy surf from the ocean, and embarked its local pilot at 1332, who maneuvered it into a starboard approach to its anchorage off of Ile Royale’s leeward side in the thick, humid, almost oppressive air.

Located on the northern coast of South America between Suriname and Brazil, French Guiana, which had been settled by the French during the 17th century, is both an Overseas Department and an Overseas Region and constitutes the largest portion of the European Union outside of the European continent itself.

Its three main geographical regions comprise the coast, where most of its 209,000 population is concentrated; its dense, almost-impenetrable rain forest, which gradually gains elevation as it approaches the Tumac-Humac Mountains on the Brazilian border; and the two island groups off the coast, the Iles du Salut and the Ile de Connetable, the latter a bird sanctuary.

The Barrage de Petit-Saut hydroelectric dam, located in the north, provides power, while fishing, gold mining, timber, and eco-tourism are its predominant economic activities.  The Guiana Space Centre, in Kourou, employs 1,700.  Principle transportation includes the international airport in the suburbs of Cayenne, the capital; the Degrad des Cannes Seaport; and an asphalt road from Cayenne to the Brazilian border.

The Iles du Salut, or Salvation Islands, lie eight miles northeast of Kourou in the mid-Atlantic and comprise Ile Royale, Ile St. Joseph, and Ile du Diable.

Settled by French colonists seeking to escape the disease-ridden jungle of the low lands on the continent proper in 1760, they subsequently served as outposts for ships too large to dock in Cayenne, and were initially known as “Iles du Diable” or “Devil’s Islands.”

Ile Royale, the largest of the three and the only one still inhabited, had been the headquarters of the prison governor of the infamous 19th-century French penal colony, which had housed more than 80,000 prisoners in the 101 years between 1852 and 1953.  Its current hotel had been the prison warden’s mess hall.

The actual Ile du Diable, the smallest of the three and measuring 1,320-by-3,900 feet, accommodated the leper colony.  Among the most famous prisoners, which had encompassed spies, political prisoners, and World War I deserters, Alfred Dreyfus, a French Army Officer, had been falsely accused of treason, completing more than four years of his sentence on the hot, humid, rain-deluged island from April 13, 1895 to June 5, 1899, and Henry Charriere, allegedly the only prisoner to have escaped and to have lived to tell the tale in the now-famous book, Papillon.

A June 17, 1938 decree abolished prisoner transportation to French penal colonies, although it had taken another 15 years before the last one had been removed.

St. Joseph, which grew in size as the ship approached it, sported dense, tropical vegetation above its rocky perimeter, in which several pink, wooden cottages, almost choked by the flora, pierced the green canvas.  Ile Royale, a short swim away, had been thresholded by a small pier and several anchored sailboats.  Civilization beyond the prison population had somehow established itself here and the boats had provided its maritime entry.

Grinding engines eight minutes later indicated the release of the starboard anchor with four shackles at a 50-degree, 16-minute north latitude and 52-degree, 35-minute west longitude position.  Considerable time ensured before it had been determined that the sea state would permit safe tender operation, upon which a voice over the ship’s public address system ultimately pierced the safe, vacation-oriented delusion with the words, “Welcome to the penal colony of Devil’s Island!”  The miles covered through no-man’s land (or sea) from the Caribbean to the northeastern edge of South America had deposited me here, and the “tourist route” had been well behind me now.

To put a foot on tiny Ile Royale, or “Royal Island,” which had been more popularly known as “Devil’s Island,” where 80,000 had, until 1953, been accused, correctly or incorrectly, and imprisoned, and whose sole goal, amidst the brutal conditions, had been to escape, had certainly constituted one of the definitions of “exotic travel.”  That step both contrarily and paradoxically served to fulfill the opposite of the prisoners’ intentions and desires, of escape.  The island, upon retrospect, had nothing to do with the desire and, hence direction of, travel to or from it, but instead personal will which, upon further examination, took on diametrically-opposed directions when the action had been self- or other-determined, the former pertaining to my circumstance to travel here and the latter to the prisoners’ to flee it.  To remove that core of the soul, that self-determination, had been the equivalent of removing the soul itself, since the essence of will, direction, and action had been the propelling force behind every living human.

A rocky, inclining path, leading from the single-boat pier to the island’s interior, yielded to a cobblestone, green moss-overgrown one and threaded its way through dense palm trees, lush vegetation, and thick humidity.  Hack out a clearing in a malaria-ridden jungle, I had thought, and man will find a use for it, as the French had with the penal colony they had established here.

The island’s sole museum, located half-way up the path, had been a dual-floored, wrought-iron balconied cottage with an off-red and cream façade, shuttered windows, and a wooden shingled roof, and displayed island-related artifacts, models, and diagrams.

A walk to the path’s summit had been met with a treed, green grass expanse of the island proper, and several penal colony-remnant structures, such as the two-story, balconied “Gendarmerie Poste des Iles” or “island police station,” and the brick and block “Eglise Classee,” or church, which had been constructed in 1854.  Its “Chapelle des Iles – espace de liberte” or “island chapel – area of freedom,” sported a stone floor; a wooden, slated roof; painted, wooden murals depicting prison life; an upper floor; and a steeple.

The island’s many antiquated, decaying stone walls and pillars had provided testaments to the equally fading memory of this historical period, relics which had been intentionally eradicated from the memories of the souls which had been enslaved by them.

The prominent, orange lighthouse hailed from 1934.

The small, crumbling, moss-overgrown children’s cemetery, sporting cross-adorned graves, provided a strong statement of injustice: the hot, humid, cruel, harsh, disease outcrop, coupled with the premature deaths of those who had never made it to adulthood and therefore had never begun to forge their life paths, had resulted in a final resting place, on the far side of the island not far from the ocean, which had been isolated, crumbling, and seldom-visited.  How, indeed, can one be remembered for his contributions and achievements when he had never lived long enough to create them?

The summit-perimeter path led round the cottages of the island’s only “auberge,” which featured stucco walls, shuttered windows, corrugated metal roofs, and small front porches.

Amid the decaying ruins, half-walls, and cells had been the “quartier des condamnes” which featured the rusting, wrought-iron bases once used as beds and the wall-connected bars to which the prisoners had been nightly shackled.  It had been in the narrow cells with their small, single, high-arched windows covered with wrought iron bars where the prisoners had awaited the completion of their sentences or death, both of which had served as “releases.”

The solitary confinement cells, which were located across the way and were equally small, offered no window and, hence, when their doors had been closed, were reduced to total blackness.  Channels of human senses and perception had served no purpose during these times.

A weed-overgrown reservoir had been dug by the prisoners, who had done so while braving the oppressive, breath-inhibiting humidity; torrential rains; disease-transmitting mosquitoes; and skin-tarring rays of the equatorial sun, one teaspoon at a time—the only “tools” they had been given to complete the project.

A walk through the small hotel’s lobby, which had been the prison warden’s mess hall and now housed the bar and a tiny gift shop, led to a tabled, outdoor patio where patrons eat the daily three-course “menu,” quoted in euros, and enjoy views of the actual, rock, palm-covered, 131-foot-high Devil’s Island across the water, which had served as the Emperor Napoleon III’s decreed penitentiary.

The collective, three pinpoints known as “Devil’s Island,” had, more than any other place, been a study of cruelty, torture, endurance, and survival inflicted by humans to humans, which used the planet’s existing, natural elements to heighten it, and hence forced one to examine that fine, instantaneously severable line between life and death, the island’s conditions often inducing one to think “beyond” that line as the sometimes only viable alternative of “escape.”

As a study, it had offered two paradoxes over and above the one already contemplated upon arriving here.  The first of these involved past primitiveness and future advancement.  Its harsh, uninhabited conditions, only now overgrown with lush flora, beckons of the bowels of human behavior—criminality—yet its present tracking station serving the Ariane Space Program whose launch pad, located 12 miles away on the French Guiana mainland, hinted at its future, as it now plays a role in manned and unmanned missile and rocket launches which transcend the boundary of the planet itself, an example of humans fostering advancement for the benefit of humans, and hence the diametric opposite use of the island for humankind’s goals.  The world is, according to Shakespeare, indeed a stage, and its people only players in whatever scenario it is deemed most appropriate for its current cause.  Time and intended goal are the parameters which had distinguished Devil’s Island from past to future, from penal colony to space program, from planetary prison to planetary escape.

The second of the latently discovered paradoxes had been created by my ship itself, the Royal Princess, anchored in the distance and visible as I descended the cobblestone path back to the pier.  Appearing an infinitesimal speck in the vastness of ocean already sailed, it had, at the same time, served as the “bridge” of connectivity, the floating path I had walked to travel here, re-linking civilization.  Because of Devil’s Island’s population scarcity, and its very uncivilized historical use, it had, in essence, been civilization—and hence seemed grossly out-of-place. 

As I crossed the short distance from the island to the anchored vessel on the ship’s tender filled with thoughts, lessons, and paradoxes, of one thing I had been quite sure—namely, that I had performed a feat its 80,000 prisoners had only dreamt of—the rapid, effortless, unimpeded, willful departure from it, without a single hindrance or hesitation.

Obstacles in life are, indeed, only insurmountable when another person’s will is contrary to your own—the ultimate source of planetary conflict.

The Club Restaurant dinner back on the Royal Princess that evening had included white zinfandel wine; mesquite smoked chicken breast with spiked red pepper coulis; mesclun greens, daikon, and baby tomatoes with ranch dressing; cordon-blue style veal scaloppini with Swiss cheese and ham and served with roasted cylinder potatoes, broccoli, and grilled tomatoes; miniature profiteroles with chocolate chip mint ice cream; and coffee.

Having nudged itself out of its anchorage at 1756, the Royal Princess, virtually shrouded in mist some four hours later at 2200, maintained a 14-knot steam speed and pursued a 120-degree heading along the coast of French Guiana, having already passed Cayenne.  The penal colony of Devil’s Island, now almost deserted, lay 55 miles behind it.

Day Nine

Having spent most of the night boring through the morosity, the Royal Princess, sailing the western fringes of the Guyana Basin 70 miles off the coast of Brazil, had, by 1100, been knifed by rain.  The latitude, unwinding like a reverse-mode clock, stood at two degrees.

The French-themed lunch buffet in the Panorama Buffet had included chicken in mushroom sauce, macaire potatoes, tomato provencale, green peppercorn pate, brie and French bread slices, and bananas foster with vanilla ice cream.

Having progressively arced from its predominantly southerly to a southwesterly course, the Royal Princess had crossed the equator and inched into the Barra Norte at 1600, gateway to the Amazon Delta, its bow now clearly immersed in its calm, but characteristically coffee-colored waters.  The equatorial transition, my first by sea, had been obliviously accomplished on numerous prior occasions by air, with flights between North and South America, Africa, New Zealand, and Australia, as well as flights directly between Europe and Africa, while a visit to La Mitad del Mundo, in Ecuador, had enabled me to place one foot in the northern hemisphere and the other in the southern.  The current event, however–one of many global travel milestones–had been part of my lifelong quest to reach certain key planetary points.  Unlikely to ever be completely released from its gravitational restraints in order to view it as a whole from above, the pursuit had at least enabled me to perspectively experience it from its characteristically geographical coordinates.

The extensive travel, an unending series of discoveries, revelations, and learning processes by land, sea, and air, and their sub-modes, had been infinitely enriching, but equally humbling, as one accurately gauges his relative size—and, perhaps, importance—to the whole.  Only the very few had the visions to tame the planet for the improved survival of the whole, and thence required the effort of the many, often coupled with significant time, to manifest that vision into physical reality. 

Although the collective efforts of these “sub-wholes” may not have been readily apparent or assessable until the individual projects—the sublimated “visions”—had been completed and behind them, I wonder if the lives of the “smaller” individuals make any contributions to this whole and, if so, what those contributions to it may be.  I wonder if these contributions, manifested as entire “life projects,” will only be revealed and hence understood when they have been completed and are therefore behind us…  Would our lives not take on entirely greater significance and, coincident with them, fulfillments, if those purposes could be revealed before the picture has been completed—that is, during the process, increasing the importance of the goal?

And yet, as I gaze out of the low-to-sea windows from the dark wood, painting-adorned, red suede upholstered, living room-style den next to the wrought iron stairway leading to the Purser’s Desk on Deck 4, the horizontal expanse of the almost muddy-appearing Amazon Delta, reached shortly after 1700 and changing in hue on the horizon where it is met by the sulfuric, dirty-gray sky, the vessel moves on.  The sea moves by.  And so too do the days of my life…

Dinner in the Club Restaurant that evening had included sparkling wine; smoked sturgeon with cucumber and apple slaw and lemon confit; cold yogurt and cucumber soup with oregano and dill weed; standing rib roast with creamed horseradish, Yukon Gold potatoes, green beans, and corn-on-the-cob; chocolate brandy butter cream cake and fudge chocolate ice cream; and coffee.

Safely protected by the sanctuary of the Amazon River banks, the Royal Princess, pursuing a 231-degree, southwesterly heading and an almost-lumbering nine-knot speed at 2315, had returned to calm, vessel-stabilizing waters, lightly brushed by hot, humid, rain forest-indicative breezes beneath clear, star-twinkling skies not having been encountered for several days during its suspension in no-man’s land.  Tracing its quickly-dissipating, zero-degree latitude path in the river, it had covered 310 miles since it had departed Devil’s Island, a comparative speck, whose memory at this point had proven equally as small.  Its trek down the Amazon had, in earnest, begun.

The 3,990-mile-long Amazon River, flowing from mountainsides and glacier-fed lakes high in the Peruvian Andes from a location only 100 miles from the Pacific Ocean, and encompassing a large part of Brazil and Peru, significant portions of Colombia, Ecuador, and Bolivia, and a small part of Venezuela in its north-to-south expanse, is the world’s largest river in terms of basin size and volume, and the second only to the Nile in length, delivering 20 percent of all ocean-fed water with a 2.7-million square mile basin area.

The result of a structural depression, the basin, a subsidence trough which has been sinking under the weight of the surrounding highlands’ eroding material, has been filling with sediment for 66.4 million years.  The depression, flaring out to its greatest dimension in the Amazon’s upper reaches, lies between two old, low crystalline plateaus, the Guiana Highlands in the north and the lower Brazilian Highlands in the south.

During the Pliocene Epoch, between 1.6 and 5.3 million years ago, freshwater had filled the basin until an outlet to the Atlantic Ocean had been established between 10,000 and 1.6 million years ago.

That outlet, 40 miles in width and located north of Marajo Island on the equator, is a lowland of sand banks and half-submerged landmasses called the Amazon Delta whose 170-billion-gallons-per-hour flow, the collective result of Andean glaciers, daily rains, and numerous river tributaries, into the Atlantic discharge through this mangrove-fringed estuary.  Its 6,360,000 cubic feet-per-second release transforms water from salty to brackish for more than 100 miles.

Its more than 1,000 known tributaries, rising in the Guiana Highlands, the Brazilian Highlands, and the Andes Mountains, and comprised of drowned, alluvium-filled valleys, had been created when melting glaciers from the Pleistocene Period had resulted in a sea level rise which had flooded the steep-sided canyons from the Pliocene Era, although he upper part of the valley, encompassing eastern Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia, had later been covered with melting snow from the Andes.  One of these tributaries, the Madeira, which flows northeastward from Bolivia, is 2,000 miles long, while seven exceed 1,000-mile lengths, enabling large ships to sail as far as Manaus.

The first European to have explored the river had been Francisco de Orellana, a Spanish soldier who had sailed it in 1541 and gave it its current name after battles with local female warrior tribes whom he had compared with the Amazons of Greek mythology. 

Day Ten

Throughout the night, the Royal Princess had begun to take its first bite out of the Amazon, maintaining its snail’s-pace, ten-knot speed and reflecting its hull lights on to the muddy-tan waters which assumed the appearance of snowy-white whipped cream, their tranquillity, coupled with the vessel’s minimal speed, deceptively evoking motionlessness. 

Suspending its journey for a two-hour period in Santana at 0820, during which time it had been subjected to Brazilian immigration formalities and embarked local, river pilots, it moved back out to the relatively narrow river’s center flanked on either side by dense, green, rain forest vegetation representing the Brazilian states of Amapa in the north and Para in the south, now beneath light, pastel-blue skies in which a series of seemingly-connected, billowing cumulous mountains floated, baselessly suspended over the water artery.

Pursuing a 204-degree heading and slightly greater 14-knot steam speed at 1200, it initiated its sector between Santana and Santarem, its first Amazon port-of-call.

A tray of tiny lunch delicacies in the Panorama Buffet that afternoon had included tuna salad and salmon mousse with red onions and capers on baguettes, deviled eggs, spring rolls, Russian salad, chicken and pumpkin risotto, fresh fruit, and hazelnut drops.

The Italian-themed dinner in the Club Restaurant that evening had featured merlot wine; an eggplant parmesan casserole with basil-tomato sauce; mixed greens, baby spinach, crisp bacon bits, pine nuts, pecorino cheese, and bleu cheese dressing; pot roast braised in barolo wine and served with polenta cakes; penne arabata; baked cheese rolls and butter; gelato di zabaglione and toroncino; and coffee. 

See “To the Amazon by Sea and Soul: Part 2″ for the conclusion of this article.

About Author

Robert G. Waldvogel –
About the Author:

A graduate of Long Island University-C.W. Post Campus with a summa-cum-laude BA Degree in Comparative Languages and Journalism, I have subsequently earned the Continuing Community Education Teaching Certificate from the Nassau Association for Continuing Community Education (NACCE) at Molloy College, the Travel Career Development Certificate from the Institute of Certified Travel Agents (ICTA) at LIU, and the AAS Degree in Aerospace Technology at the State University of New York – College of Technology at Farmingdale. Having amassed almost three decades in the airline industry, I managed the New York-JFK and Washington-Dulles stations at Austrian Airlines, created the North American Station Training Program, served as an Aviation Advisor to Farmingdale State University of New York, and devised and taught the Airline Management Certificate Program at the Long Island Educational Opportunity Center. A freelance author, I have written some 70 books.

The general description of a G 16 globe light and the trend that different  types of G 16 globe lights follow is that, the Number of LEDs are 10 not in every case but generally, over all length is 3 inches with a diameter of 2 inches. Average life hours for a G16 LED globe light are 50,000. Power features are such that it has a Wattage of 1 Watt and a voltage of 120 volt. The bulb shape has a specific name called G 16 Globe. Then apart from conventional G16 globe light bulbs there are energy saving LED globes like the Bulb rite G16. LED G16 is ideal for track lighting, amusement parks, and hotels where you want to save energy and avoid light bulb replacement costs. The use of LED globe light pays for itself in energy savings and it lasts approximately 50,000 hours.

Coming to the different types of G 16 LEDs globes they are several. Some of them are:

G16 4W LED Bulb, 2″ Globe, White

These bulbs are very bright and efficient it has a 120vac globe-shape bulb, 2 inches (60mm) in diameter. It uses 21 LEDs to produce a pleasing warm white light. The color of the light is similar to a halogen bulb. It has an expected life of 30,000 hours. This is an excellent bulb for many ceiling fans and other decorative fixtures requiring a smaller bulb with a regular medium base. These are designed not to be used with dimmers or sensor-activated switches designed for incandescent bulbs only.

LED G16 E26 AMBER Bulbrite globe.

Decorative shape. Ideal for amusement parks, hotels, and truck lighting. Can be used in wet  locations when used with a waterproof socket. Long  life. Sunlight 1 Watt, G16 Globe, 19 LED, Blue, 120 Volt, Medium Base Bulb. This is a 120 Volt bullet-shaped bulb, 1.57 inches in diameter. It uses 19 LEDs and only 1 Watt of power. It has a medium base and can be used anywhere a standard bulb is used. It has an expected life of 50,000 hours. This is an excellent choice for lighting porches, closets, hallways or other small areas indoors or outdoors

Decorative Globe Bulb G16-1/2

1 Watt, G16 Globe, 19 LED, Red, 120 Volt, Medium Base Bulb. This is a 120 Volt bullet-shaped bulb, 1.57 inches in diameter. It uses 19 LEDs and only 1 Watt of power. It has a medium base and can be used anywhere a standard bulb is used. It has an expected life of 50,000 hours. This is an excellent choice for lighting porches, closets, hallways or other small areas indoors or outdoors.

Tesler 60 Watt Two-Pack G16 1/2 White Candelabra Light Bulbs

This specialty bulb features a candelabra base with a globe shape.

G 16 LED globe lights

About Author

Najeeb –
About the Author:

Technical aspect of filmmaking from Exposure to Set Operations and Formats

Rajeev Jain – ICS WICA

Indian Bollywood Director of Photography / Cinematographer / DOP

The Complete Interviews, Vol. II

UMA: Can you talk about your inspirations before you got into cinematography?

Rajeev Jain: Seeing colour television for the first time started my fascination with the technology of light and photography. These studies were enriched by meeting a remarkable DOP named KK Mahajan, Mr Mahajan introduced me to filmmakers like Mrinal Sen, Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Mani Kaul and Buddhadeb Dasgupta. And I soon realized what a phenomenal art form this marvelous technology could be. At about the same time, when I was 13, I was gate-crashing the set of Shatranj Ke Khilari in Lucknow, which Satyajit Ray was directing and Soumendu Roy, was shooting. Roy was lighting this enormous interior, shooting Arri IIC on what was probably ASA 125 color negative. He seemed to be everywhere at once, fine-tuning the frame with the operator, adjusting the positions of the background players, tweaking the light from at least a dozen babies. As he led a beautiful actress Shabana Azmi to her mark and subtly adjusted the shadow on her forehead, I thought to myself that this man has the very best job in the history of the world.

UMA: If you had to label one quality a DOP really needs to be successful in film, what would it be?

Rajeev Jain: I think, for lack of a better term, it would be a point of view. Everybody sees the world from their own perspective and this uniqueness is what the DOP brings to the film, respective of the story, of course. It’s tough now because so much of the industry is driven by economics, which means you’re a hero if you can throw up a few soft lights and knock off a whole bunch of shots. This goes against having an idea and feeling of what is absolutely right for that story you’re telling. But, if you choose carefully and find the right director, your way of seeing will leave an impression.

UMA: Was there a key moment you can point to when you knew you would end up being a Director of Photography?

Rajeev Jain: Well, there was a moment alright, but it was pure chance. I had no plans to be a Director of Photography-none whatsoever.

UMA: Your work has always felt so pure to me, almost spiritual in a way. What is the most important quality a Director of Photography should bring to a film?

Rajeev Jain: The most important task of the Director of Photography is to create an atmosphere. To interpret the mood and feeling the director wants to convey. I mostly perform this task by using very little light and very little colour. There is a saying that a good script tells you what is being done and what is being said, but not what someone thinks or feels, and there is some truth in that. Images, not words, capture feelings in faces and atmospheres and I have realized that there is nothing that can ruin the atmosphere as easily as too much light. My striving for simplicity derives from my striving for the logical light, the true light.

UMA: If you had to pick a single quality a DOP needs to be successful, what would it be?

Rajeev Jain: Taste. Which really means the ability to know what scripts to work on, what feels right as far as composition, lighting, everything that goes on during a film. Taste is an instinct and it should guide you toward the projects that are going to provide a great experience. I’ve been lucky as far as the films I’ve had a chance to work on, but part of that is my ability to go with what feels right-to trust my taste and see where it’s going to take me.

UMA: I’m wondering what director you never got to work with that you would have liked to, living or dead.

Rajeev Jain: I think, of those no longer around, it would be Satyajit Ray. His ability to tell a story visually was just incredible. And as far as those still around, it would have to be Adoor. These are directors who do not rely much on the spoken word-their talent is very pure in the visual sense, and that interests me the most.

UMA: 25 years have gone by since you were that little kid standing on the railroad tracks in Etawah. Can you point to one thing you’ve learned as a DOP that helped you travel down those tracks better than any other?

Rajeev Jain: Light. For everything we do as human beings we are affected and defined by light. A Director of Photography is a master of light. We need to think about light, to learn to see it in all its different moods and approaches. It is absolutely, the most important tool we have to work with as Director of Photography and, I think, as people, too. It was always the one thing I was so aware of when I was staring down those railroad tracks as a child and now years later. The light.

UMA: So, is that shot one of your all-time favourites?

Rajeev Jain: No, not really. The problem with singling out one shot is that it goes against what I believe movies should do. A film is a sum of its parts and one shot is only as strong as what has come before it. The Pather Panchali points that out really well. It’s mostly done in these very straight-on medium shots. Towards the end of the film, after death of Durga, we see Apu brushing his teeth, combing his hair… going about performing tasks, which would have involved his sister or mother. Sarbajaya (mother) has a lost look… Harihar returns, unaware of Durga’s death. In a jovial mood he calls out his children. Without any reaction, Sarbajaya fetches water and a towel for him. Harihar begins to show the gifts he has brought for them. When he shows a sari that he has bought for Durga, Sarbajaya breaks down. We hear the high notes of a musical instrument “Tarshahnai” symbolising her uncontrollable weeping. Realising Durga’s loss, Harihar collapses on his wife. We see speechless Apu, for the first time taking the centre stage in the story. Till now the story was seen through the point of view of either Sarbajaya or Durga. It is only in these final moments that we see Apu as an independent individual. That frame, which is amazing, would not have meant nearly as much if the whole film hadn’t been done in this eye-level, medium shot approach. To pick out a single shot in a movie is to deny that the shot is important because of the style already established.

UMA: Can you imagine a life without cinematography? A career path completely different from the one you took?

Rajeev Jain: Certainly not when I was younger I couldn’t. But later in my career, after I had done Theatre and Still Photography, I discovered this desire to go study physics. I was in love with Einstein’s concept of relativity-it was the greatest poetry I had ever read. The concept that any matter is contained in energy and energy in matter shows the power of intuition by one man. At the time I had a family to support and I realized my path was in cinematography, not physics. But the instinct was there, nevertheless.

UMA: Form and content working in harmony.

Rajeev Jain: Absolutely. Like light and darkness, what appears to be in conflict can sometimes lead to a seamless union and hold great power on the screen.

Tags: rajeev, rajiv, jain, cinematographer, director photography, bollywood, india, indian, mumbai, dop, kalpvriksh, videographer, kenya, kenyan, dubai

Rajiv Jain Cinematography: Theory and Practice

Rajeev Jain is a 2 time Award winning Director of Photography & has been nominated numerous times, most recent nomination for “Outstanding Achievement in Single Camera Photography” Spring 09.

Over the last 25 years, Rajeev has built his reputation working in both film & television. He is considered a pioneer in the world of High Definition Television, as one of the first DP’s to work in the new medium.

Rajeev’s close collaboration with Indo Studio (the first HDTV production company in the South Africa) during the nineties makes him one of the few DP’s that has worked with every generation of HD camera since its inception. The scope of his work includes Documentary, Commercial, Reality, Children’s Television, & Independent films.

Rajeev Jain has created a masterpiece. “Rajiv Jain Cinematography: Theory and Practice”: is his third interview with me and for the aspiring or experienced cinematographer – the best reference interview I have ever done.

Anyone that aspires to this highest art of storytelling should have this article on their shelf. He writes “At the heart of it, filmmaking is shooting, but cinematography is more than the mere act of photography. It is the process of taking ideas, words, actions, emotional subtext, tone and all other forms of non-verbal communication and rendering them in visual terms.” Through both verbal metaphor and pictorial example he takes the keys to this art from their hiding place under the bed and hangs them right there on the peg on the kitchen wall. All you have to do is take them down and apply them.

Learning the language of visual art is more than just learning the difference between subjective and objective camera angles, or knowing what the director means when he says he wants “a choker.” When you have finished the first chapter you will have a good enough handle on the terms a director and cinematographer bandy about on the set to sound like a pro. By the time you get to the fifth chapter “Cinematic Continuity” you will have been exposed to enough graduate level theory and practice to start you on the road to mastery of the form. I especially enjoyed Rajeev’s explanation and examples of continuity. Music Videos and Bollywood songs has had such a profound effect on new filmmakers that many of us from the ‘OLD School’ have a tendency to wonder what’s going on sometimes. There is such a lack of “continuity” in so many of the montage sequences you see now days that it was refreshing to see so much time and space dedicated to such an important part of storytelling.

Glossary Terms

Cut (intercut, cross-cut) A cut marks the abrupt transition from the end of one shot to the beginning of the next shot. A shot is said to be intercut into another when the film returns to the first shot, as when we see a close shot of a character’s face, then a flashback memory that the character is having is intercut into the facial shot, and when the flashback is over, the film returns to the facial shot. Cross-cutting occurs when the film cuts back and forth between, or among, parallel actions, as in a chase scene.

Deep focus cinematography Keeping the focus and clarity of the image constant from objects appearing close to the camera to those far into the rear of the frame, which enables the viewer to see more space within the shot, including the background details and actions.

Dissolve (match dissolve) A transition from one shot to the next in which the images overlap for a time, sometimes used to ease the visual abruptness of the transition (as from a darkly lit cave scene to a brightly lit snowfall scene) and at other times used to suggest an association between two images (as from a letter addressed to a character to a shot of that character reading the letter) A match dissolve is one in which graphic elements of the two images match, as with the close shot in Psycho of the murdered woman’s eye and the shower drain.

Editing (montage and cutting) The ways in which several pieces of film are joined together. Montage is the French term for editing, or cutting, but also carries connotations of the creation of meaning through editing patterns. Hollywood Montage commonly refers to the rapid cutting together of multiple shots, often using many dissolves, to create the effect of the rapic chronicling of the passage of time, as from a character’s youth to maturity.

Establishing (or master) shot An extreme long shot that shows (or establishes) the entire space in which the ensuing scene will take place. Many scenes begin with such shots to orient the viewer, Sometimes there are two establishing shots, one exterior and one interior.

Eyeline match The establishment often through cutting, of the direction of the character’s gaze. At times a shot will show a character looking, and a second shot will show what the character is looking at. At other times the term is used to refer to the directionality of character’s lines of vision within shots.

Flashback A jump in narrative time from the present into the past. Rather than proceeding chronologically through the story, flashbacks allow filmmakers to jump back and forth between past and present events.

Formalism A film theory that emphasizes the formal properties of cinema that shape the way movies are made. Formalists recognize, for
example, that organizing screen space is an artisitic activity that differs from our daily perception of real life. Major formal theorists include Sergei Einstein and Rudolph Arnheim.

Invisible style A norm of filmmaking in which style is not usually noticed, based on the assumption that narrative is always more important than style and should dominate it. Such devices are not crossing the 180 degree line and cutting on action, reaction, and dialogue contribute to this invisible style.

The 180 degree line An imaginary line drawn between the camera and the actors/action which the camera does not cross in order to prevent viewer disorientation and maintain an invisible style.

Realism A film theory which emphasizes the recording nature of cinema, as well as the connection between the camera and what is in front of it in real life. Major realists include Andre` Bazin and Siegfried Krucauer.

Scene A scene is a narrative unit determined by unity of time and space. The events in the scene occur in one place at a time, A later scene, for example may occur in the same place at a different time.

Shot (close shot or close-up, medium, long, two-shot, tracking, and dolly) A shot is an image in the film uninterrupted by cuts or other transitional devices. The terms close shot (or close-up), medium shot, and long shot indicate the distance of the camera from the central object being photographed With a person, a close shot generally shows the face and perhaps the shoulders; a medium shot shows the person from the waist up; a long shot will show the person’s full body. A two-shot is one that features two characters equally. Tracking or dolly (or dollie) shots are ones in which the camera moves. It was traditionally mounted on a moving platform, or dolly, and would follow or “track” a moving object, such as a walking character or galloping horse. Tracking or dolly shots can also move through a set (like a hounted house) in which nothing is moving, giving a complex depth to the shot.

Shot/reverse shot editing A pattern of editing which shows, first one character and then a cut to a reverse shot that allows us a nearly opposite view, typically another character who is talking or interacting with the first. Many scenes simply go back and forth between such shots until all significant dialogue has been spoken and the action has occurred.

Stylistic norm The stylistic features of filmmaking at a particular time. Departures from the stylistic norm can be used to good effect by creative filmmakers because they come as a surprise.

Master of Light: Conversation with Contemporary Indian Bollywood Cinematographer – Rajeev Jain ICS WICA

EXCLUSIVE!  Rajeev Jain (Indian Kenyan Director of Photography)

Indian Kenyan Cinematographer Rajeev Jain talks about joining Heart Beat FM and explains the meaning of the “Heart Beat FM wide shot” in M-net’s exclusive interview.

Rajeev Jain is kind, genial, funny, intense (in a very good way) and incredibly smart. Oh, and did I happen to mention, that he is a world renowned director of photography. Though he is a lot like his good friend, Matthew Robinson, he is his own personality, an individual and, a darned nice guy. As I talk with him it becomes clear why these two men work together so often and so brilliantly. They are like two halves of a whole. As Rajeev said to me during our interview, “Sometimes Matthew and I think so much alike, it’s scary.” Now that I have interviewed them both, I can see what he is saying and, it’s a very good kind of scary.

So, what do you talk to a famous director of photography about? Well, we talked about a little bit of everything. We talked about the support site and his work.

Rajeev is at the Kalasha Film & Television Awards in Nairobi, Kenya where he will soon be attending the closing ceremonies and we are struggling mightily with a bad SKYPE connection. Our originally intended vocal interview quickly becomes one done by text type messaging to remedy the problem. And, Rajeev, with all he has ahead of him at the festival, doesn’t hesitate for a second to spend the extra time necessary to type instead of speak the interview. I’m most appreciative. I owe him a great debt for the generosity of his time and spirit for this interview. Oh yes, and a glass of Vodka.

Q: What made you agree to come on board?

A: It’s actually a cute story. I had done THE LONG ROAD for three years and I left that show because I was living in Nairobi that time and I was tired of flying back and forth to Dubai and Mumbai. I was looking for something in Nairobi because I wanted to stay there. So when they called me up I said, “No thank you. I’m not interested.” And my gaffer said, “Rajeev, reconsider that. Have them send you the script. I’ve seen the script. It’s what you’re looking for.” So, I sat down and my gaffer and I read the entire script basically in one sitting and I turned to him and said, “You did a really bad thing here. I can’t say no to this show now.” He said He knew what He was doing. Even though He didn’t want to live apart and it was really hard. [To his gaffer] Isn’t that how it happened? He said yes. He’s smiling.

Q: You were the DP for the whole season. What’s it like to work with a director who has a different vision almost every week?

A: Since I shot every episode, I did not have a chance to prep with director. So he would come up with a concept and come on set and rehearse the scene. If it rang true to me and I felt it was the way to go, I’d say, “Great, that’s a good idea.” If he wanted something that felt tangential to the style of the show we were trying to maintain, then I might make a suggestion to try something else. If you’re a smart director you listen to the people that are there all the time. I tuned in very quickly to what Matthew Robinson wanted. I would call Matthew Robinson and ask if he saw yesterday’s dailies, and what he thought of them. And that would give me a better idea as to whether I was on the right track or not. And after about three or four episodes I got what he was looking for, not 100 percent of the time — nobody can do that — but a good 80 percent of the time.

Q: What would you consider the signature Heart Beat FM shot?

A: The wide shots people refer to as Heart Beat FM shots. Directors will say, “Let’s do the Heart Beat FM wide shot,” which in television is not something that you very often see. Matthew Robinson really likes holding things in wider shots and I happen to really like it also — it puts your character into a place or a locale, which tells you something about the character. So I look at it as a storytelling device. The other kind of shot that’s somewhat characteristic of the show is when there is something big in the foreground and then something further away in the background wide. We call it wide and closed. You might keep the focus on the money, let’s say, in the foreground and our characters are in the background, either out of focus or much smaller.

Q: Do you ever get so caught up in the acting that you forget to pay attention to the technical side of things?

A: That’s what I am supposed to be paying attention to. My job is not just to do lighting and set up shots but to make sure the lighting and the shots reflect the scene in the most effective way. If I’m moved by what I see, then I know we’ve done well. I have people that operate cameras and lighting people and rigging people. All those people keep an eye on the technical stuff for me, and I’m concerned with the storytelling. That’s what interests me about the job: Efficient, effective storytelling.

Q: What is your favorite scene?

A: I can’t tell you because it’s later in the season. You’ll know it when you see it. It gets crazier as the storyline develops. Here’s one thing: What Matthew Robinson and the writers do is drop a single line in an early episode and then not mention anything about it until nine episodes later, and then all of a sudden there’s an episode all about that single line. It’s intriguing to me to work on something that is so well planned out and circular in terms of its storytelling. I think it’s just brilliant.

The Shape of Light – Rajeev Jain Paints with His Camera

Rajeev Jain (Born: 1968, Lucknow) started working as a director of photography in 1993, after serving an apprenticeship as camera assistant and camera operator. Since then Rajeev has worked as director of photography with some of India’s most esteemed directors, in some cases establishing a close and intimate association. We met up with Rajeev Jain in India, on the occasion of a five day seminar organized by the Delhi Film Club on The Shape of Light, an event which saw the participation of hundreds of students, filmmakers from across India.

How has cinematography changed in the last fifteen years?

I went to the Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts (Bhartendu Natya Academy) in Lucknow during the period of the new wave. We were witnessing a cinematographic quality which had ‘unchained’ itself in many senses in films from the period until the end of the 1980’s. Even the montage was much more liberated, and Cinematographer/ Directors, with Gautam Ghose at the forefront, were searching for greater liberty. Even when it came to shooting, using hand-held cameras, using natural lighting, or lighting in a way which seemed natural, such as through open windows, etc. In other words an absolute freedom whether with camera movement or lighting.

And in our country?

In India there was still a more classical style of photography, and I am making reference such as Subroto Mitra, Sudhendu Roy, who worked with Satyajit Ray up until Agantuk (1991). Meanwhile other new cinematographers with different ideas were also emerging, like Ashok Mehta (36 Chowrangi Lane), especially with black and white. But this black and white image with its own proper aesthetic beauty had a characteristic quality of merging lighting to atmosphere or ambience. Hence from this point on maybe cinematography acquired a more important significance, a complete symbiosis with the film and the narrative.

Can the meeting between director and director of photography influence the career of one or the other?

During the seminar a meeting of a good director of photography and a great poet. With the cinema of Ray, on the other hand, there was without a doubt a decisive turn with the arrival of Pather Panchali (1955) onward.

Which filmmakers have made a particular impression on you?

The rapport with Shyam Benegal on Tota Maina (TV Series) certainly was for me an event which I remember with great emotion until this day. I meet people who confide with me that they decided to become a director of photographer after seeing that serial, or directors who decided to enter cinema thanks to Tota Maina. For example, one day there was a kenyan boy who happened to be at my house that decided to come to India to make Tv seial after seeing Tota Maina. So it has been an important film for many people, and much more for me because I was lucky to work with Shyam babu.

How did you meet?

It was quite by accident. He was looking for a director of photography who was also mentally prepared for this adventure, and through various sources my name came up. A friend of mine who worked as assistant director introduced me to Shyam babu. I remember when he called to tell me that Shyam Benegal wanted to meet me. We met at his office for tea, and at the end of this encounter he takes out a script and offers it to me. I can feel the emotion of that moment right now.

Can you tell us about the TV Series’s ‘dynamic photography’?

Shyam babu used to tell me that TV uses time like a narrative element, while the photography normally remains constant for the duration of a sequence. It is precisely time that the ‘dynamic photography’ exploits to render a different consistency to the film. An example is the atmospheric conditions within nature: if during a cloudy day the sun comes out at a certain moment this will modify the condition of the light. In an interior space if someone enters a dark room and turns on the light this will change the condition of the light. However, this is all tied to precise actions. This discourse is amplified in Tota Maina, where in addition to variations in natural light were added variations which correspond to emotional motivation rather than any sense of logic.

During some scenes you also used different shutter speeds, sometimes barely noticeable.

During the filming Shyam Babu would ask for certain precise frames a slight increase in shutter speed, hardly noticeable, and therefore far from the slow motion effect we have been accustomed to seeing in many TV Series. This was solely to have greater suspension, therefore always in the service of a certain atmosphere in the serial. Technically this variation in speed consisted of a slight adjustment of the diaphragm. Shyam babu was very precise and exacting with his choice of photography, and not only myself but the whole troupe was so impressed by his personality that we complied voluntarily with his every request.

In the course of this seminar you have lamented the fact that it always gets more difficult to shoot a film in India with careful attention to the cinematography. For what reason?

Principally because there is a lack of respect for the profession in India. In the few films I have shot with foreign crews and production I actually discovered a greater professional respect. Then certainly there is the lack of preparation, because if films are not well prepared you will end up improvising on the set. Another reason is the understanding of shooting schedules, because if you shoot a film in ten weeks or in five weeks the result will be clearly different. With the advent of digital editing there is also the tendency to pass the complete negative through the telecine and then in AVID, without printing the so called ‘dailies’ which I think are very important for controlling possible technical problems. This happened with a film shot abroad, where an entire scene had to be reshot after only discovering an exposure problem during the montage.

Strictly technically speaking, why is it that Indian films are no longer made with the same care as they once were?

Maybe what is missing is an actual love of cinema. The problem is that there are no longer understanding producers who invest in projects they care about. We no longer have the person who loves the film so much that they want it made as fine as it possibly can. The operative now is to make the film only with the budget in mind, sometimes regardless of whether the film is good or not.

Making of Ras Star – Indian Kenyan Cinematographer Rajeev Jain

RAS STAR IS CURRENTLY FEATURING AT THE INTERNATIONAL MUSEUM OF WOMEN FILM FESTIVAL.

Raj next job was on a short film, Rasstar, based on the life of Kenyan rapper Nazizi, which was aired on M-Net.

Synopsis: A teenage rapper, Amani, from a staunch Muslim family teams up with her brother Abdosh, an emerging con artist to figure out a way to make money and get her into the talent show finals. As the story unfolds, Amani and her brother get caught up with a local gangster and a stolen phone incident and use her brother’s glib tongue to get them out. Through absolute blind luck they manage to find the money they need only to come to blows with their Uncle Shaka, the family patriarch and Mlandimu, the local gangster who finally saves them.

Rajeev Jain, a well-versed Bollywood Cinematographer and Director of Photography, discusses his new Award-winning film, Ras Star, and the unique camera approach he used specifically for this film about one young woman’s quest for life. With a background as director of photography for features such as Army, Badhaai Ho Badhaai, Carry On Pandu, Kadachit, Kalpvriksh – The Wish Tree, Mirabai Not out and Pyar Mein Kabhi Kabhi, Rajeev has had more than enough experience behind the lens to make the leap to cinema. He also has cinematography credits for the Award winning Kenyan TV Series Heartbeat FM.

Where are you from and how did you become a cinematographer?

[Raj] I am from Lucknow in the North West of India. My first degree is in Science and it took a while to find my way into a more artistic world. After several meanders I ended up at the Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts (Bhartendu Natya Academy) studying drama. I managed to direct a few short plays and did camera for many more. Since then I have enjoyed both documentary and drama camerawork with each informing and advancing the other.

How did you approach the cinematography of Rasstar?

[Raj] Through discussions with Wanuri, finding films we both liked visually. We wanted to find separate looks for each story and a different look for the present day. We found a visual ‘theory’ for each section ( for example a deep red and black colour scheme for Amani story, long lenses for Abdosh story and very wide lenses for Mlandimu). The looks had to be able to implement quickly (then aided in the grading) because of the very tight schedule. We then applied the visual theory to a shot list (which we often had to do this the night before due to locations changing or not being found yet)

What was it like working with HD for the first time?

[Raj] With a 35mm camera you are looking directly through a beautiful lens and seeing the scene in colour and can trust your eyes as part of the photographic process. With an HD camera you are looking at a tiny black and white image through the viewfinder so you need a large (ideally 24″) HD monitor to properly judge what you are filming. This is huge and totally impractical with such a small crew and  low budget so we managed with a 14″ monitor a fair amount of the time but up a mountain or on a remote beach only a small battery monitor is possible. This was very frustrating and led to some things that could have been better.

HD is horrible looking if any area is overexposed. This proved most problematic in outdoor which we chose to shoot on very wide lenses meaning there was a lot of sky in the shot. Unfortunately the skies were particularly flat and overcast but relatively bright white.

The biggest advantage to HD was being able to travel a lot lighter with a couple of zooms up the town for instance and being able to film 2 hours worth of material with no worries ( which would have been roughly 12 huge cans of 1000 feet of film to carry and load). It also meant Wanuri and I could go off at weekends and film city shots and pickups very easily.

Does storytelling matter?
 
[Raj] Storytelling is a huge part of life from an early age. It’s a way of finding meaning in the world.  For a child it’s a way of understanding the world through metaphor – not that a child thinks of it in that way.

If the world blew up and the few stragglers met up it wouldn’t be long before they gathered around a fire and someone started telling tales to make sense of things. Stories entertain, provide an escape or catharsis, stimulate thought and debate and make you laugh.

What was the best thing about making Rasstar?

[Raj] The best thing was being up in such a beautiful part of the world working on a script that used the Kenyan slum as part of the story.

What was the worst thing?

[Raj] The first day of the action sequence in market. The crowd took so long to get onto the location that we on the camera crew were reduced to making beards out of moss and a feature length documentary on clouds (some very fine clouds though).

Can you tell us a couple of interesting/little known/behind the scenes things about the making of Rasstar?

[Raj] Wanuri is certainly one of the hardest working directors I’ve worked with but I think I found her limit one Saturday night. We were filming in pub (climax performance) and pick-up shots and had a choice to go to the local pub where some of the crew were tucking into lamb shank and downing some fine beer or head off. The light looked too tempting though so we headed off towards and thank goodness we did because the light over was astonishing.  Deep red light was bouncing off them making them glow against the black background. There were so many midges we had to set the camera running and run around to draw them away from clustering around the camera. We shot for ages and the light was low but still great approaching.  I tried to get one last shot with long DJ console in the foreground when Wanuri suggested we had enough and should go, words I never thought she’d say! (The shot was a nice one and made the final film).

Have you worked on anything since Rasstar?

[Raj] Since Rasstar I’ve filmed the film Kalpvriksh – The Wish Tree. It was a great experience to film in such a remote and interesting place. Mahableshwar I’ve filmed a half hour comedy for Channel : ‘The Smallest Man in Town’ and I’ve also filmed and edited a half hour documentary in Dubai about a cleaning lady who works in  Dubai. I have recently been Dop on a low budget feature “Carry on Pandu”.

My Cinematography Style | by Rajeev Jain | Indian Bollywood Cinematographer

FIRST OUTLINE:

For some time, I’ve been meaning to put in writing my views on cinematography and my aesthetic style and now, here it is.  This doesn’t mean I follow them dogmatically – it’s simply what works for me in broad strokes.  As an Indian cinematographer, I should be able to give the director or production whatever look I’m asked.  But within the visual and aesthetic constraints of any production – or the occasional lack thereof – an element of me is always there. Rules were meant to be broken – but only when you have a full understanding of the rules.  While I can’t claim to know all of them, I’m learning with each production.  Here are some of my thoughts…

The aesthetic of a project needs to be established early to the audience.  It’s distracting to introduce a new aesthetic or editorial style too late in a story without a proper justification or motivation.

Another area that gets too little attention is on atmospheric shots – those shots that fill the space between scenes.  It gives the audience some time to breathe and to think and can be a moment for the music to affect the audience.

I find graduated filters too fake and unnatural.  It doesn’t focus our attention and instead, usually calls attention to itself. I don’t think I’ve ever used them and have yet to be criticized for my decision. 

Most directors cut too soon both on set and in editorial.  On set, wait to say, “Cut”.  Sometimes an actor can give a gem of a moment at the end of a scene if you wait.  It’s worth it and I’m surprised how often a director will use that moment in the final cut.  It’s nice to hold on an actor at the end of certain scenes to allow the audience to take in the moment and reflect. 

People change and so do their views.  So I’m sure my views are likely to change, too.  Till then …

Cooked Art: Cinematography … by Pocket – Sized Indian Cinematographer Rajeev Jain

I love films that are made like artwork; each scene is masterfully photographed for brilliant composition to create lines of action, symmetrical balance, with a fine use of space, texture, colour, and perspective. Here are two movies which I recently saw again, and depict wonderful visual language.

So what the hell is a cinematographer? If you want to get into semantics, it means ‘writing in the movement.’ But their job, mainly, is to have control over the camera and lighting crews in a scene, and therefore have a lot of creative input into the final image. Though if you consider the fact that the art director is responsible for the mise en scene, the storyboard artist plans out the shots and what is actually happening, and the director is going to want to have a piece of the action, then it’s no small wonder how films end up looking great. Here are some of the guys that managed to do this (in my little opinion)

What qualification did you study at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts and when did you finish?

I went straight from high school to Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts and did a 2 year Diploma in Dramatic Arts, majoring in Lighting and graduating in 1985. The courses are run differently now.  It is run more like a film school than an art school, which I think is excellent! It allows students to make earlier decisions on their chosen field within film & television, be it a cinematographer, director, producer, editor etc. It also better prepares the students for working in the industry.  It is teaching so much more than just how to make films.

What did you think of the facilities you recently saw at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts (Bhartendu Natya Academy)?

The facilities at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts are fantastic; I would say world class even.  The main production studio is very well equipped.  The post production facilities such as the edit suites and sound mixing rooms are just like what is being used in much of the Indian film and television industry.

I am also particularly impressed with the production value of the recent student films at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts. I think the standard of work is quite high.

I think it is fantastic that the students get to shoot projects Film is the international industry-standard format for feature films, as well most overseas television drama. It is rare for students to get the opportunity to work with film now that the digital formats are becoming more and more prevalent.  If you are able to shoot and work with film, then you will be able to work in any format that you come across out there.  It doesn’t work the other way around.

What I mean by this is that the principals of filmmaking are the same whichever format you shoot in.  However, shooting film requires a different approach, both technically and creatively.  These principles can be applied to shooting digital, but shooting film requires a greater understanding of lighting and exposure.

The digital equipment at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts is of a standard and quality that will enable the graduates to go out into the industry and understand pretty much the workings of any other piece of equipment they will come across. There is no reason why the quality of the student projects can’t match the high quality of professional projects because the equipment they are using is the same.

I am also particularly impressed with the production value of the recent student films at Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts. I think that the standard of work is quite high.

What was the first break or job that was key to setting you on your way in your career?

I have had a number of breaks I guess and many of them lead onto one another. A series of fortunate events you might say, but if I was to think of one particular big break it was one night when I had just finished editing my new cinematography show reel. (A show reel is like a portfolio of work, a cut down of my best cinematography edited to music.)

Just as I had finished, an email came through to me that was forwarded by someone that I barely knew. The email said that a Kenyan production company was looking for an Indian cinematographer to shoot part of an international film that was to screen at the World Expo in Nairobi, Kenya and they wanted to see show reels.

I went to the post office the next morning and sent mine off express mail. I received phone call only days later confirming that I had the job.  I was flown to Nairobi and I worked with a full professional crew on what was my first major job.

The people I met on that project liked my work so much that I got a call a month later and they flew me to Darussalam to shoot some commercials. I eventually returned to India with a new and improved show reel.  Having international work on the reel raised my profile further and got me bigger and better jobs and an agent and I was away…

A case of the right timing I guess!

What qualities do you think are needed in order to make a career in the creative industries?

The quality that I admire in successful creative professionals is the ability to take pride in one’s own work.  Whatever your creative pursuit, I think that if you are doing work that you really enjoy and that you take great pride in, then you is lucky enough to have one of the best jobs in the world.

I also think that challenging oneself by working outside of your comfort zone is important and realising that to succeed you have to be consistent, positive and work really hard.

Whichever creative field you are in, it is going to be a hard slog to get your career underway. With creative careers you are judged on your body of work and your track record. The first thing one need to do is create a portfolio, or in my case a show reel, and then prepare yourself for criticism and knock backs, never giving up and use those knock backs as incentive to work harder and set your standards higher.

I also think it is important to do ‘passion projects’ that allow you to experiment with ideas or further your experience. By passion projects, I mean ones that you do for the love of it and not the pay. I shot a lot of ‘freebies’ to get my show reel up to scratch and to get experience before I started getting paid for my art.

Also it’s important to work on your network of contacts.  You never know when that person you might consider as a rival might actually be the one to pass some work your way or introduce you to new collaborators. The film industry is too small to make enemies.  We should be like a support network and learn from each other in order to continually make better projects.

For you, what are the ‘must see’ benchmark films in terms of either outstanding or pioneering cinematography?

Well for starters the cinematography on the recent Indian feature films Kalpvriksh – The Wish Tree – Yours Dreams Are Just a Touch Away and the soon to be released Carry on Pandu are quite outstanding. Ha!

No, seriously, some of my favourite and most influential films in terms of cinematography are not the ones with the big crane shots or the world’s longest steadicam shot, but the ones that create a real mood and atmosphere.  Films that convey emotion to an audience and help to communicate the subtext of a story by saying more about the characters than dialogue alone ever could.

I think the most influential films for me would be anything directed by Satyajit Ray (Aparajito (The Unvanquished), Parash Pathar (The Philosopher’s Stone), Jalsaghar (The Music Room) for his use of mood, atmosphere and cinematic techniques of storytelling.

Also, classics such as Pather Panchali (Song of the Road). It took me a while to realise why it is considered the best film ever made. The use of deep focus in this film is not just a technical achievement, but also a storytelling one.

I also really liked Shakha Proshakha (Branches of a Tree), Agantuk. They are both quite rough and hand held at times, but very beautiful and you really felt like you were ‘inside’ the movie.

That is what I was trying to create on the most recent film that I shot, Kalpvriksh – The Wishing Tree.

I want the audience to feel like they were there in Kalpvriksh, with the characters, to feel it, smell it and taste it.

Key lights: Defining moments in cinematography since the Kalpvriksh – The Wish Tree

An interview with Rajeev Jain, Indian Cinematographer and owner of Rajeev Jain Films, Cinematography and Grips – Dubai – Mumbai – Nairobi.

Q: What is your job title? Where are you employed?

A: Director’s director of photography, director of photography. I have my own company, Rajeev Jain Films, Cinematography and Grips, and I’ve been doing it for about twenty-five years.

Q: How long have you been a cinematographer?

A: I’ve been doing it for several years, but I started my own company.

Q: What type of training did you have to become a cinematographer?

A: I went to the Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts.  I had a two-year diploma degree in theatre arts. That put me into a position to see how the industry has changed a lot. Coming out of college, kids should just start their own company.  First, they should decide what they want to do in the industry and then go for it. The sky’s the limit depending on the career path you choose.

Q: What do you like best about your job?

A: Working for myself. Having the freedom to make your own decisions, to make your own path about what you want to do. But you can go for a month without working if you’re on your own, so definitely put yourself on a business path as well as a creative path. Take businesses classes, not just liberal arts. The film industry is a business, just like the music industry. You have to be a self-starter.

Q: Describe your typical day on the job.

A: Which job? Normally when I’m not working, I’m in my office doing paperwork. From your office, you might have to go somewhere on location and that can be anywhere from two days to thirty days. A lot of our stuff is remote locations. Every job is unique. As soon as you think it’s typical, it changes.

Q: What career were you in before becoming a cinematographer?  Do you feel that it helped prepare you for becoming a massage therapist?

A: I was doing theatre, photo journalism, working at a local channel and making a decent earning. I found myself incorporating paramount to my words, and when I started taking pictures and filming, I realized this was what I’m most passionate about. But when you have a creative bone in your body, like writing, it’s easier to expand into other aspects of a different creative trade.

Q: What traits do you feel are necessary to be successful as a cinematographer?

A: Everybody takes different paths to be successful. But you have to keep up-to-date. Editing and graphics has changed so much. The whole dynamics has completely changed. You have to be totally flexible and stay with the current trend.

Q: Would you say it’s imperative to have a college education for a career such as this one?

A: I don’t think it’s imperative, but what I got out of college is I networked a lot. I don’t think it’s a hundred percent necessary. But, of course, you should have a good school to teach you what you need. When you’re in college, you need to start working on building a portfolio and college can help with that. If two people went for the same job and they both had impeccable portfolios, but one also carried a four-year degree, you can bet that person’s going to land the job. To be in the industry full-time, not just freelance, means it’s important to get that degree.

Q: Would you recommend this career to someone else?

A: Yeah. I can’t think of anything better to do. I see things that people don’t see. Is it for everybody? I don’t think so. You have to have thick skin. You have to work for months on end. Don’t set your expectations too high. Be realistic. My first recommendation would be to go to college and get that full-time job. Get a feel for what the industry is all about. It’s hard to just have a good portfolio, unless you’re an amazing cinematographer. Doing it without college is extremely hard to do.

Q: What is your next career move, if any?

A: Retire and go village. No, but seriously, I’m going to do more projects. I want complete control of my future projects.

Kalpvriksh – The Wish Tree – Yours Dreams Are Just a Touch Away – Rajeev Jain Cinematographer

Two-time Winner Indian Cinematographer Rajeev Jain ICS WICA Creates Special World of Light, Shadows in his recent film Kalpvriksh the Wish Tree Yours Dreams Are Just a Touch Away

Rajeev Jain has a way of seeing that takes an image to its outer limits. In his years as assistant, electrician, grip, and in the past 16 years as director of photography, he has developed a visual sensitivity and expertise.

Rajeev takes his inspiration from directors such as Satyajit Ray (Pather Panchali) and cinematographers Ashok Mehta, ISC (36 Chowrangi Lane) and Binod Pradhan (Parinda) for their use of colour and lights and shadow to amplify the emotional content of stories. I find the ability to allow the characters to operate in shadow is a real art, he says. Ashok Mehta allows his characters to function in darkness. He lights everything so the blacks are really rich – yet you can see everything.

His work in Kalpvriksh, a film by director Manika Sharma exudes a period quality with an edge. Rajeev was especially intrigued by the non-narrative, fragmented script, because it offered a myriad of visual possibilities. Shooting primarily on Kodak to give contrast to the exterior scenes, Rajeev experimented with warm and blue filters to get the look he wanted. The result is a stark, almost surreal journey into the minds and actions of the film’s bizarre characters.

Up-front collaboration on any film is essential, Rajeev emphasizes.

It’s important for me to go through the script scene by scene with the director Manika Sharma, Rajeev says, to try to see what is in her mind. I want to know what the scene is saying, who the most important character is at that moment, and how the characters move through the scene. We also share photographs and movies, which gives us a visual base to work from.

A graduate of Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts in Drama and a beginning still photography, Rajeev took a course in filmmaking. Intrigued by the film medium, he saw the possibilities of combining his interests with film in commercials. Searching for a way to learn camerawork, he offered his assistance (unpaid) to director of photography Subroto Mitra to learn the craft.

He taught me about his SR package, what the lenses were, and how to load magazines, he said. Then he started me by working on Shyam Benegal’s documentary on Nehru.

In 1996, Rajeev got the first opportunity to shoot a film, Army, with Mukul Anand. After eight weeks of stressful shooting – his every move was watched.

After 6 more features, then came Kalpvriksh in 2007, allowed Rajeev to explore a new visual technique to add nuance to the story. The film includes a dreamlike journey that Rajeev wanted to give a dreamlike quality. We tested filters and a bleach bypass process to give that section of the film its own special look,” he says. “Instead we decided to use a swing tilt, a view camera attachment that allows the operator to change the plane of focus. It let us throw different parts of the frame out of focus, which is difficult to do in a wide shot because of increased depth of field.

Rajeev is currently finishing production on Carry on Pandu, a feature being shot in Mumbai, as well as doing Commercials.

Full of Surprises! Rajeev Jain, Indian Cinematographer / DOP, Talks About… KALPVRIKSH (THE WISHING TREE): YOUR DREAMS… ARE JUST A TOUCH AWAY…

Like any artist, Rajeev was born with innate talent burnished by experience and cultural influences. Born in 1968, his first introduction to movie magic came while observing his uncle as a projectionist at Ravindralaya Theatre, Lucknow. “I remember sitting in that little projection room and watching films with my uncle,” the Indian cinematographer recalls. “It was like watching silent movies because you couldn’t hear sound in the booth. I just saw the images and would try to understand the story. My uncle would show us Charlie Chaplin movies, which, of course, were silent. There is no doubt that he put his dream of becoming a cinematographer into my heart.”  Originally from India, cinematographer Rajeev Jain ICS WICA studied at the Bhartendu Academy of Dramatic Arts in Lucknow, India.

The day after completing his studies, Rajeev went to work as a trainee on an anamorphic picture. He contributed to ten more movies as assistant director of photography before becoming a DOP. “From that moment on I considered the camera to be like a pen that you use to draw images,” he states. “Operating a camera is mainly about composition and rhythm. I also operated the camera for Bollywood songs. It was very primitive. While we were shooting, someone with a watch was timing every pan and zoom. He would say, ‘You have 5 1/2 seconds to do that zoom.’ It was a great lesson for me, learning to make each element of a shot work in that amount of time.”

I thought it was fascinating that film speaks a common language that everyone in the world can understand,” he recalls. “That’s especially true for cinematographers, because we are communicating with the audience non-verbally.” “To me, making a film is like resolving conflicts between light and dark, cold and warmth, blue and orange or other contrasting colours. There should be a sense of energy, or change of movement. A sense that time is going on — light becomes night, which reverts to morning. Life becomes death. Making a film is like documenting a journey and using light in the style that best suits that particular picture… the concept behind it.

The first important decision regarding the visuals was to shoot in anamorphic (2.4:1) format, as they had done on Kalpvriksh – The Wishing Tree. Rajeev explains that Manika likes to manipulate the subjective and objective viewpoints, sometimes in the same frame or even at the same time. In a simple example, a shot will begin on a subject, and then an actor will step into the frame, creating an over-the-shoulder shot, changing it from subjective––in which the viewer sees what the character sees––to objective. “One of my first suggestions was shooting Kalpvriksh – The Wishing Tree in Super 35 format,” Rajeev continues. “I felt that would give the film an edge that you don’t expect to see in Drama. I felt we could use the wider frame to create a claustrophobic feeling in the Shabana’s cave and more interesting composition showing Shabana in the world.” She, director Manika Sharma, designer Mansi and other members of the creative team discussed the possibilities for composing Kalpvriksh – the Wishing Tree in widescreen format, while drawing upon such visual references as another drama with an improbable theme. Though Manika storyboarded scenes, Rajeev utilized the sketches primarily as a communications tool. While shooting, the director remained open to veering from the storyboards to take advantage of unexpected opportunities. “Our production designer Mansi and costume designer gave us rich sets and costumes. Even though pushing two stops in the development sometimes is not as faithful to colours, their collaboration with this technique allowed us (especially in the dinner / fantasy sequences) to have a warm and yellow-looking scene, as if all that was lit was candle light,” he says.

In one dramatically lit scene, the school principal (Mahabano Kotwal) is sitting on the chair, looking out a window at the falling rain. “The whole scene was lit with one hard day light, an ARRI  6K,” says Rajeev. “We brought one light through the window. In order to light the door, we used a 4 by 4 mirror just out of frame to the right. The light is modulated by the rain on the window, and it stretched over to the book. We were ‘gathering chestnuts.’ It was serendipitous, and it all worked out with one light.” “For fill light on this movie, we used either very, very little or absolutely none,” he adds. “I find that with the film stocks we were using, if you’re overexposing a little bit, you can read the shadow detail incredibly well. When I saw the picture at Theatre on the 70-foot-wide screen, on the dark side, which is dead black, you can actually see hairs going into actors’ heads. I found it very interesting. I hope it works on a subconscious level for the audience.” Even though Rajeev knew that he could not shoot wide open at a T2 or a T2.8––because the Super 35 format chosen has a shallower depth––he still wanted this tool to give the story a greater stage presence. The bigger negative allowed him to push the envelope. And, he knew the grain would still be acceptable, if he stayed within the T2.8 to T4 ranges on interiors. “We could still use real sources and it wouldn’t be hard for our camera crew to follow focus,” he says confidently.

Like many of his colleagues, cinematographer Rajeev Jain has many concerns about changes that can be introduced to imagery during the post process of our electronic age. Such considerations only become intensified when one is dealing with a profusion of visual effects, which was the case with Kalpvriksh – The Wishing Tree. “I tried to make a concerted effort to stay as involved in postproduction as possible – which is sometimes tough because it’s ‘off to the next job’ – to work with the digital effects and optical house to ensure that there wouldn’t be any problems with the answer printing process. “You don’t see any lights in the master shot,” he says. “The master shot that we started out with was an impossible shot to light. We were jammed back in the corner with a 35 mm lens and there was a two-way mirror in the background. So we used a technique Rajeev Jain called a ‘driller.’ Simply put, you’re normally shooting horizontally across a room, and there are horizontal surfaces, like the tops of mantels and tables. If you come from directly overhead with a light and drill it down onto that surface, it works quite well. It doesn’t seem wrong. If light comes from a place that’s not normal or usual, people seem to accept the element that’s being illuminated without really figuring out what’s going on in terms of a source. Shadows go straight down, so they don’t end up looking strange or calling attention to the source. You see it on the table and then it comes off the table and lights the faces to a degree. It’s interesting because you’re not lighting the people at all. You’re lighting the environment that they’re in.

Anamorphic gives you the space in the frame to do that,” Rajeev says. “Manika has no problem filling an anamorphic frame in a contemporary picture. The story also has an elegiac aspect, so it seemed better to tell it without rock video cutting and frenetic camera movement. With the amazing cast, we knew this film would be about the performances. All those ideas––as well as ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’––factored into our decision to shoot anamorphic.” To determine a visually appropriate approach for the various moods needed in Kalpvriksh – The Wishing Tree, Manika and Rajeev chose to forego in large part the usual business of viewing other films during prep. “We used a lot of book work, referring to other kinds of artists working in two-dimensional forms, still photography and drawings mainly,” Rajeev relates. “This was a nice and different way to prep. Looking at movies to see how a particular sequence worked is great, but this approach started me on this incredible round of self-education, covering still photography from 1890 up ’til now. Now I can’t stop myself from buying the books. It is amazing how much visual reference source material is out there when you go back to basics. These were great jumping-off points for us.

The cinematographer also had to avoid telltale reflections of camera gear and personnel on the water surface. Along with a disciplined crew, that required careful light placement and camera angle selection. He discovered that putting the plastic at the right distance from the lens for tighter shots from Shawn’s point-of-view rendered slightly distorted images with a hint of grain, which amplified the look that he and director Manika desired. Rajeev also occasionally added reflections of characters and objects on the water’s surface to draw attention to the barrier separating the boy from other people. Sometimes the camera takes a subjective, spectator-like stance while other times the audience seems to share Shawn’s life-in-the-bubble experience. “There was no simple formula for deciding when to put the audience inside the bubble with Shawn. It was a question I asked the director for each shot in every scene. Are we with Shawn inside the bubble, or are we outside looking in?”

I didn’t believe this and obviously neither did neither director Manika Sharma nor producing company Rhombus Films. Another picture shot in an old house in Bollywood required us to actually operate two generators to power all of the lights. By the time we were done, however, I was able to shoot two-thirds of a long sequence by dollying along with the reflections seen in a long fishpond at night (Shabana’s cave). “I think it’s a visual reflection of the fact that one’s position in life can change almost instantaneously,” he says. “It’s extremely effective visually. It seems to work on a number of different levels. Using this different approach seems to freshen up all your overs and reverses. There’s a very interesting scene between Shabana and kid that was staged on an under the tree, and there’s a sense of

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Uman Therman –
About the Author:

IT’S ALL ABOUT CHARACTER AND STORY. Uma Therman, I am a highly experienced film journalist, with total dedication to the craft, huge enthusiasm for telling stories and world-class technical expertise.

Now gaming has become a complete industry. There are many companies who are in this industry and a constant variation is needed in the games. If any company has to survive then it has to come up with unique and extraordinary games. These are the two trademarks of the games of Sony. That’s why the hegemony of Sony in gaming industry is continued because they have given people what they want.

Sonic The Hedgehog was the games series by Sony that became so popular that it is said that Sony sold its millions of copies after its launch. In fact, this was the expected target from this game series and they did it successfully. But its formation was not a simple process. Particularly the selection of the character for the Sonic Hedgehog game series was pivotal because they had to produce something which could give people an alternative of Wii Mario and the biggest challenge was to provide people better than this Mario character. So they had had to focus more on the appearance of the character. They had to give a refreshing character which could make people love it. That’s why you will be surprised about how character of Sonic The Hedgehog developed. There were many proposed mascots which were rejected and then finally Oshima, Sony’s designer, developed teal hedgehog which was named as Mr.Needlemouse. It had a beautiful boots which were inspired from Michael Jackson shoes and its gesture was inspired by that of Clinton’s. This combination was wonderful and people were really impressed by it. In act, the shoes of Michael Jackson were pivotal in its success because Michael Jackson was a real heart throb in 1991 when Sonic Hedgehog games series was released.

Sonic The Hedgehog was unable to swim in the beginning because its programmer Yuki Naka thought that hedgehogs are unable to swim. However, this character was rendered the ability of swimming afterwards. The sound track of this game was given by the band called Dreams Come True.

Sonic The Hedgehog was, all in all, a real piece of entertainment for all gamers. In fact, a gamer can not be a real gamer if he/she has not played Sonic The Hedgehog games. These are real fun having all the features that a good game must have.

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Damian Cross –
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Find Sonic the Hedgehog activities, scene creators, hints, and flash Sonic Games at Blueblurzone.com.

Choosing to have a GPS vehicle tracking system installed in one’s car will save one from the hassle of being lost and asking for directions. To be guided in selecting the right GPS vehicle tracking system, here are some tips to keep in mind.

Frequency of Use

In looking for the best automotive GPS systems, one should have figured out or estimated how often one is going to need it and use it. If one is not going to need it very often, it is recommended to consider the inexpensive automotive GPS systems available. On the other hand, if one expects to use it very often, it would be better to find automotive GPS systems that are user friendly.

Kind of Tracking Systems

There are four major types of GPS automobile tracking systems that one can choose from, the car navigation GPS system, the portable outdoors GPS unit, the marine GPS system, and the PDA/gps hybrid. Overall, one could find the in-car GPS navigation system the most useful when you want to know your exact location when you’re driving without a map.

Car Positioning

In choosing automotive GPS systems, one should consider the car’s layout. Most GPS systems have monitors that display directions and maps on them. Usually, these monitors are placed on the dashboard or on an attachable pedestal from the dash. Some vehicles do not have the space and capacity to hold GPS systems and that can block important vents for air or make it uncomfortable for a person in the passenger seat.

Multi-Functions

Every client or buyer’s first priority in purchasing an item is its functionality. In choosing an automotive GPS system, it would be better to have a GPS that has multiple functionalities. Quite a number of automotive GPS systems provide directions by an address back, an address typed in, a location selected on a map, or even by the nearest intersection.

Real-Time Tracking Updates

Another feature that should be considered in looking for a GPS automobile tracking system is its ability to provide a “real-time” wireless network that can help process information through visual representation. This is very helpful in verifying if one is going the right way and making the correct turns.

Audio Instructions

One should also consider looking for a GPS automobile tracking system that is capable of giving audio instructions while driving. Several models only provide visual location maps which might not be useful when one is driving alone.

Price

When one has decided on the kind of GPS system and the features it has, one’s budget should also be considered. The differences in pricing usually depend on the number of features the system provides, however there are less expensive models that have enough features for most users. Prices for GPS units range from under $100 for the Garmin Nuvi 200 through Home Depot to nearly $400 for the Magellan Maestro 5310.

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Syed Irfan –
About the Author:

I’m Syed Irfan. I window shop online to find the latest and hottest trends and gadgets and all the best deals that go with it. I know where to shop for what and I love to share my opinions and findings. If you found the above article useful, please visit my web site http://gpsreviews1.com/ to find out more.