Ashes to Ashes... (Part 1 of 7)

On June 4th 2011 the Puyehue-Cordon Caulle volcanic complex erupted in Chilean Patagonia sending millions of cubic meters of ash and rock into the air. Most of this material, called volcanic tephra, landed in Argentina due to the prevailing winds in the region. The areas most affected by this eruption are the same places I visited just 6 months earlier as part of my project to photograph the wetlands of Patagonia.

Above: A "remolino" (dust devil) out in the dry Patagonian steppe. The ash has the consistency of baby powder so it is easily remobilized by the lightest breeze.

In December, with the volcano still belching out a steady stream of ash, I returned to Patagonia to try to understand and document the effects of the eruption. I had heard from my Argentine friends that the native wildlife was holding up ok, but the sheep ranching communities in the rural steppe had taken a devastating hit. Because the social consequences appeared to be much more significant that the environmental changes, I decided to take a break from natural history photography and focus on people. I have always been uncomfortable photographing people as I felt the camera was an invasion of privacy. Photographing friends and family is not so difficult, but putting a camera in someone’s face in order to document their suffering presents an ethical challenge. Obviously it has to be done in order to tell important stories, but some part of me felt guilty about turning someone’s plight into my little adventure. 

This trip presented a perfect opportunity for me to step out of my comfort zone and confront these issues. I had made friends with a family in the rural town of Jacobacci the year before and they were excited at the idea of hosting me again. Having already been through the awkward process of earning their trust and respect, I was hoping they would help me reach out to the rest of the community.

The only remaining challenge was to figure out how to photograph volcanic ash without destroying all of my equipment. The ash acts like airborne sandpaper as it consists primarily of ground up bits of glass. I asked the advice of a filmmaker friend of mine in the town of Bariloche and he told me to plan on replacing all of my cameras and lenses. I opted to just bring a mountain of ziplock bags.

When a dust devil appeared next to the road, I jumped out of the truck and chased after it. I wasn't expecting to catch up to it, but I did and the above photo was taken as it passed over me. Mask or no mask, this is a good way to get a lot of volcanic ash shoved up your nose.

Since I didn't have the budget to replace all of my equipment, I decided to improvise an ash proof camera housing out of material I found at REI. It passed the sink test so I was confident it would keep the abrasive ash out. I'll describe how I made it in a future post.