Photographers Blog

Pictures from a mile deep: Ground Zero of the BP oil leak

Fire boat response crews battle the blazing remnants of the off shore oil rig Deepwater Horizon, off Louisiana, in this handout photograph taken on April 21, 2010.  REUTERS/U.S. Coast Guard/Handout

Illustrating a news story with photographs can be much more challenging than simply deploying a talented photographer on site. Sometimes initially identifying where and how the best pictures will be made is a daunting task, let alone getting a photographer there, especially when the subject is spread over thousands of square miles of sea and ground zero is miles offshore and a mile below the surface. No news event in recent memory has been more challenging to cover than the Gulf Coast oil spill due to the nature and dynamics of the story.

Oil is seen on the surface of the Gulf of Mexico as BP tries to stop oil leaking from the Deepwater Horizon wellhead in the Gulf of Mexico 55 miles (89 km) south of Port Fourchon, Louisiana May 8, 2010.  REUTERS/Sean Gardner

When it was first determined that the BP well was gushing oil, our coverage efforts for the next several months were focused on oil seen on the surface, oil reaching the hundreds of miles of shoreline, impact on local fishermen and residents and wildlife and clean up efforts.

Plaquemines Parish Coastal Zone Director P. J. Hahan holds a tri-colored heron after spotting the seriously oiled bird along Queen Bess Island near Grand Isle, Louisiana July 17, 2010.  REUTERS/Sean Gardner

While several talented Reuters photographers documented these aspects of the story, my co-workers and I on the Washington picture desk, with help from our colleagues in Singapore, went 5,000 feet below the surface to illustrate the actual leak and containment, all from the comfort of our desk chair. How? By capturing still images from live video feeds of the seabed operations provided by BP.

A room known as The HIVE is command and control for ROV operations at the incident site, and is located in the Houston Crisis Center at BP Westlake.   Reuters/BP/Handout

Pressured by Congress, on May 21, a month after the Deepwater Horizon oil rig caught on fire; BP began showing on their website live video feeds of oil gushing from a riser on the seabed floor. During the following 4 months while efforts to contain and kill the well were underway, live video feeds could be viewed from up to 16 remotely operated vehicles (ROVs), tethered to and managed by up to 8 surface boats.

A ROV works to cut through the riser pipe at the site of the Deepwater Horizon oil leak in the Gulf of Mexico in this video image taken from a BP live video feed June 3, 2010.  REUTERS/BP/Handout

A combination photo shows the BP oil leak in images taken from BP live video on May 26, 2010 (top L), June 1, 2010 (top R), July 13, 2010 and on July 15, 2010 (bottom R) after the leak was contained.   REUTERS/BP/Handout

The ROVs carried out all the tasks necessary for containment, giving the viewer of the live feed a front row seat to perhaps one of the largest engineering undertakings ever performed at such depths. As the story as a whole involved so many angles, some of the key turning points to illustrate centered on the progress seen only from the video feeds, from the first view of the leak at the source, to the capping of the well and the first time no oil could be seen gushing from the mechanism.

Oil from all angles

From the moment the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico made headlines, Reuters has provided extensive coverage. Below are accounts from six of our photographers who have been sent at various times to document the story.

LEE CELANO

Reuters photographer Lee Celano photographs oil in a marsh near Pass a Loutre, Louisiana, May 20, 2010.  REUTERS/Matthew Bigg

Covering the Deepwater Horizon oil disaster as a still photographer for Reuters has brought unique challenges. Although the volume of oil leaking into the Gulf of Mexico is huge, relatively small patches of oil have landed along coastal Louisiana. It’s like a monster who hides most of the time and lashes out quickly, withholding its full strength. But it has been important to show that oil is in fact having an ecological impact here, and to find areas with visible proof.

On Thursday May 20, I accompanied a Reuters TV crew, correspondent Mathew Bigg and Maura Wood of the National Wildlife Federation on a boat, looking for heavy concentrations of oil in an area at the very southern tip of Louisiana. We headed for an area which had just begun being inundated with oil from the Deepwater Horizon leak. After hours of searching, a broken propeller, and an unexpected lunch aboard a work barge, we had found the spot. As Wood prepared to take a sample of the water to check its toxicity, I suited up in chest waders and slowly got into the murky water, one camera and lens stuffed into my waiters. Maneuvering in the soft lagoon floor was tricky; I sank down as I tried to walk and was concerned I might loose my balance and get myself and camera wet. So I held onto the drifting boat long enough to get into position, cautiously letting go so I could have both hands free to shoot. Wood leaned over to get samples and I was able to shoot it from from the perspective of the oily water.

Covering the Exxon Valdez disaster

It was shortly after midnight on March 24, 1989 that the Exxon Valdez hit Bligh Reef in Prince Edward Sound and began leaking millions of gallons of North Slope crude oil. I was sound asleep in Toronto, Canada when that happened.

Reuters was still taking a feed of pictures from UPI (United Press International) from the United States. But I remember hearing the news that morning and packing my gear (which at that time was film, powder chemicals, portable darkroom, 16S color transmitter and of course.. some cold weather clothing). I sat in Toronto as the politics of the news business played out in Washington between Reuters and UPI. Finally, it was decided that we would both cover the story. So, David Ake, a UPI staffer from Denver, and I made our way there. I remember landing in Anchorage, Alaska, and hauling my gear into a rental car at midnight, then driving six hours to Valdez in the dead of night. About 4 hours into the drive I was held up by a few hundred caribou, who decided to cross the two lane highway, they were just mingling so I still have vivid memories of being in the middle of nowhere honking my horn to help speed up the process.

Sea lions rest on a rock in the oily waters of Prine William Sound near Knight Island, April 2, 1989, after the worst oil spill in U.S. history, caused by the Exxon Valdez.   REUTERS/Mike Blake

I rolled into Valdez at first light and it didn’t take long to realize that most of the town’s people did not want the media there. The few media that had found rooms at the only hotel in town were all having to checkout as rumor had it that Exxon had bought the hotel. With help from our desk in Washington and the chamber of commerce in Valdez I found a place to stay at the home of the local taxidermist.