Forget Dramatic Waves: Discover the Delicate Side of Seascape Photography

The day before any of my photography workshops, I make it a habit to arrive early. It’s not just a routine—it’s essential. Coastal locations are never the same twice, and no guidebook or forecast can offer the accuracy that a direct recce provides. On this occasion, I was heading to Ballydowane Bay along the Copper Coast, one of Ireland’s most dramatic coastal stretches. The goal wasn’t to produce a portfolio image or chase a perfect sunset, but to study the behaviour of the ocean and understand the photographic opportunities—or limitations—before my clients arrive.

When I got to Ballydowane, I noticed that the sea was unusually calm. The waves were delicate rather than powerful, barely breaking against the rocks. This matters more than many photographers might assume. Water movement plays a big role in how I build compositions on the coast. Without enough motion, the scene can feel lifeless or too static. But instead of writing it off, I shifted my mindset to work with what I had.

I moved towards the area where the sea stacks are—these formations are a consistent subject at Ballydowane and offer scale and presence even in flat conditions. I set up a composition using the rocks in the foreground and timed my shots with the subtle incoming swells. I was shooting at around 0.5 seconds, a shutter speed I often rely on to strike the balance between freezing and showing motion.

But there’s a point where you can’t force drama into a scene that isn’t offering it. I decided to switch tactics and try a long exposure. I fitted my 10-stop ND filter and aimed for a cleaner look that stripped the water of any minor distractions. The result isolated the sea stack and gave the image structure. This is a technique I turn to when the water lacks energy—the long exposure simplifies the frame, making it more graphic.

That evening, I met another photographer, Vinnie. We got talking about the usual things—gear, locations, processing techniques—and then both settled into our own processes as the sky started to colour. It wasn’t going to be a dramatic sunset. The tones were subtle, featuring soft pinks and light greys with minimal saturation. Still, there was potential.

As the light dipped, I mentioned on video that I was waiting for the tide to push higher. I had selected a group of foreground rocks that would only work if the incoming water reached them and provided some interaction. For most of the sunset, it didn’t look like that was going to happen. The ocean remained reserved, only teasing the rocks I had pre-visualised.

Then, right at the final moment, one wave surged forward. It hit the shoreline just right and washed up and over the rocks at my feet. I managed to catch the frame I’d been waiting for—foreground filled, timing perfect, subtle light in the sky. Even better, the whole sequence was caught on video.

This type of location scouting serves two purposes. First, it’s about being prepared. By arriving early, I already knew what to expect for the workshop—how high the tide was running, what compositions might be possible, what wouldn’t work. That information feeds directly into how I guide my clients the following day. But second, and just as important, it becomes a chance to test yourself as a photographer—working in less-than-ideal conditions, solving problems on location, and adapting your style to suit the scene rather than fighting against it.

There’s always a temptation to chase spectacle—big waves, vivid skies—but that mindset can miss the quieter potential in a scene. That evening at Ballydowane didn’t offer drama, but it did offer form, structure, and subtlety. And those elements can make just as strong an image, if you know how to work with them.

You can see the sequence of Images I managed to capture that evening, and you can you watch it all unfold in the video too