Western Australia's South West With The Sigma DP-1

In late 2017 a friend and I made the journey to south-west WA. I’ve long wanted to visit this part of the country, and it did not disappoint. After a day in Perth, we drove down to our base of Dunsborough from which to explore everything this region of Western Australia has to offer.

If you’re looking for pristine, postcard-like beaches, rugged coastlines and more, this is it. It’s a wonderful part of the world ripe for landscape photography. We visited Christian Fletcher’s gallery in Dunsborough for inspiration and I was blown away by the work on offer. It’s a must-see if you’re ever down that way (with a great café next door to fuel up).

Not the actual Sugarloaf Rock, but uniquely impressive in its own right come sunrise.

If it is drama you are looking for, the South West coast of Australia does not disappoint.

We tackled the usual spots, including Sugarloaf rock, driving around the region and getting as far as Cape Leeuwin. A big ol’ python managed to find me in one of the bush toilets, which was fun, but most the wildlife was to be found in the second part of our trip to the Sterling Ranges.

The Sterling Ranges are reasonably remote. I think we saw maybe a couple of cars the whole time. There’s a single café and… that’s about it. It is a unique landscape in constantly changing weather. In a word, dramatic.

Fremantle offered so many photographic opportunities. This is actually my favourite image from the trip. It’s where I want my photography to head.

While there are many hikes you can do in the park, we stuck to the most popular—Bluff Knoll, ascending in an hour or two. Bluff Knoll has its own microclimate, so what started out as a sunny day at the beginning of our hike soon turned into a complete gale-force whitewash at the top where you could barely see in front of you. It was still a great walk, though, and highly recommended no matter the conditions.

We stayed in the very unique Dakota DC-3 plane accommodation at The Lily in the Stirling Ranges. It’s an odd sensation sleeping, and showering, in the interior of a plane, but it’s a great story to tell when you back, and the owners are fantastic.

A rainbow near Bluff Knoll in the Sterling Ranges of Western Australia

There’s plenty of vineyards in the region… and plenty of great food to match. Here I was aiming for a more painterly approach

Throughout the trip I used my Sigma DP-1. It still looks pretty amusing in that giant backpack I have, but it performed admirably, waiting until our very last day to die to finally give up on me (I couldn’t lock in a fixed aperture). I don’t imagine the sea spray and general wear and tear I’ve put it through helped, but hey, at least it was an excuse to go shopping for a new system. More on that soon.

In short, if you can get down to Western Australia’s south west, you’re in for a treat. Don’t miss it. Here are some more images from the trip.

The mighty Sugarloaf Rock is such a striking formation. I thought black and white would serve it well.

No photographer can resist a lone tree in a field.

I could have shot in Fremantle for hours. There was just so much to take in the general public no doubt passes on by.

The famous Quindalup boat ramp.

This was such an iconically Australian coastal scene I simply had to take a shot.

The microclimate of Bluff Knoll means you never know what you’re going to get weather-wise. It can change in an instant, and does.

Boranup Forest with its towering trees is another must-see.

A few days wasn’t enough to take in all the Stirling Ranges had to offer.

Landscape Photography In The Warrumbungles: A Year With The Sigma DP1 Quattro

I recently spent a weekend in the Warrumbungle region, which apart from having the greatest name ever for a national park, is also ripe with photographic opportunity. We stayed at Coonabarabran, roughly a half hour from the Warrumbungle National Park. Coona itself is five hours from Sydney, so not too bad in the scheme of things. This trip also marked my Sigma DP1’s first birthday, but we’ll get to that later.

The big draw is the Grand High Tops circuit, a roughly four-hour loop that takes in all the famous peaks the park has to offer. The rock formations themselves are remnants of an eroded volcano active 13-17 million years ago. The volcano itself was estimated to be 1km high and 50km wide, so rather large. Standing up there, you can certainly picture it.

The Grand High Tops walk is impeccably maintained. There’s a paved track for a fair heft of the way, new staircases and plenty of rest areas. It’s far from the bush track it used to be. Even the camping facilities down the bottom are first rate. Just make sure you remember where you parked your car…

About 15min into the walk I realised I was going to get some serious blisters trying to break a new pair of boots in, but I pushed on. Suffice to say, make sure you’re prepared with not only proper footwear, but water, food and warm clothing, as it gets quite cold after sunset.

I didn’t realise that the region is dubbed the ‘astronomy capital of Australia’, but at night it soon became clear why. I have never seen so many stars so vibrant in the sky. The Sigma, with its lack of high ISO prowess, doesn’t do astrophotography, but if you have a camera that does, you’re in for a treat.

The main attraction in the Warrumbungles is the famous Breadknife, a thin (surprisingly thin) blade of rock that juts from the earth like something out of Jurassic Park. Rock-climbing is prohibited, but if you’re a crag fiend, fear not. There are plenty of other peaks to scale.

We headed up for sunset the first day where I shot the Breadknife from the top lookout, leaving Coonabarabran the following morning at 2:30am to catch sunrise back at the Knife at 5:30am. A word to the wise, camp at Balor Hut and save yourself the hiking.

Sunrise gifts you with golden light smacking the side of the Breadknife, but you have to be careful, as during certain times of the year the sun is blocked by Belogery spire to the right. I wasn’t aware of this, the sun only making it through by metres, enough to light half of the rock during the best light directly after sunrise. I don’t mind the look, however, as it provides shape to the dome in the background.

At the top lookout you can turn in any direction and find a mighty peak. Here’s Crater Bluff, an imposing peak that looks ripe for climbing. It was lit with the most magical light during sunset, but I wanted a comp a little out of norm. The result is actually my favourite image from the trip.

While the Grand High Tops is great, there are so many other peaks around the area that seemingly go missed, such as Timor Rock right next to the road. One morning we waited for sunrise and drove madly shooting all the peaks we could in the good light. Although the bushfires a few years ago were terrible, what they have done is remove the vegetation from many of these peaks, giving them an alien, spiny look. The lack of trees really allowed you to see the shapes and structures of the peaks unhindered. The new growth coming through is also photogenic in its own right.

Often I find the journey to a destination is just as interesting as the destination itself. The ‘Golden Highway’ is alive with expanse fields and rolling hills, but I was particularly drawn to abandoned structures, such as the motel and train station below in Dunedoo. I took these images handheld and they are perhaps the least processed of any of the shots I took during the trip.

A perfect stop on the way back to Sydney is Lake Windamere with its haunting trees. I could resist a quick long exposure (read: 30sec).

So, what are my thoughts on the Sigma DP1 Quattro after a year then? It truly has been a game-changer for me, putting me much closer to the kind of images I want to take. The detail and dimensionality continue to blow me away, but it is not without its faults. My biggest gripe is dynamic range, especially when the Sony sensors offer so much. I’m hopeful the new SD-H might address this, and a few other issues, such as a viewfinder and exposures longer than 30sec. It will be interesting to see how it compares.

Perhaps the greatest part of travelling with the DP1 has been its portability. It really is a pocket camera, taking up barely any room in my bag but delivering files that rival medium-format. Given its lack of high ISO usability, average screen and so on, it’s very much what I imagine using an older Phase One P25 would be like. I’d love to do a side-by-side some time.

People still look perplexed when I pull the DP1. Sitting next to a Mamiya RB67 on my shelf here it looks very, very small indeed. Honestly, I don’t think fellow photographers take it very seriously at all. Their loss, I say.

As for the Warrumbungles, get there ASAP if you can. The walks are super-accessible and I dare say the view from the top of the Grand High Tops is one of the best in the whole country. It’s ancient, mysterious and complete cat-nip for photographers. Go and see why.