This photograph is the triumph of perseverance and optimism in the face of pessimism and the Irish weather!

The Small Skellig is a dramatic rock thrust out of the Atlantic off the coast of Kerry. The smaller sibling to Skellig Michael, featured in the recent Star Wars movies, it's every bit as dramatic, if not more so. During winter storms, the entire island has been known to be overtopped by huge waves.

I'd long wanted to produce a photograph giving some hint of that drama, and found the opportunity on a late summer's day a few years ago. The only way to get the angle I wanted was from a boat, so I needed a willing skipper to take me out on a suitable day - one where most people would be happy to stay home on dry land!

On this day, the fog was thick along the coast and the waves were high enough to make the trip an unpleasant one. My friend was hesitant to go out - he wanted to save me the charter money as he was certain I wouldn't get anything worthwhile out of it. However, on the satellite imagery for the area I saw there were one or two thinner spots of fog scattered about. If one of those coincided with the Small Skellig, I knew it would look incredible. If it didn't, then the trip would be a wasted one!

So much in photography depends on going out in marginal conditions - you'll either come back with something spectacular or you'll come back empty handed. There's rarely a middle ground on those days.

I convinced him to go out, and for most of the journey you couldn't see more than 30 yards in any direction. However, as we got closer to the Small Skellig, the fog began to thin out, and sure enough it ended up being exactly what I hoped - not so clear that the island was just set against a gray background, but exactly thick enough to show the layers of  rock receding into the distance, and emphasise the drama and ruggedness of this incredible rock.

Capturing the image on a small boat while it was pitching and rolling was difficult - especially as I'm prone to sea sickness (despite spending a lot of time on the water for my coastal work)! It's made all the worse when the camera decides to have a tantrum and refuses to work properly at the critical moment! However, between my friend's expert boat handling and my loud curses at the camera, and suppression of my rebellious stomach while I carefully framed and exposed the image, I was able to achieve my goal and I couldn't be happier with this image.

My own copy hanging on my wall at home brings me a lot of joy and I know yours will too!

Skellig Michael is one of my favourite locations anywhere in the world. It has long been my desire to photograph the 6th century monastery here in good light, and in mid-2012 I was given the opportunity to do just that. Access to the island is restricted with tourists only permitted between the hours of 10am and 4pm - which is unfortunately when the light is at its worst during the summer months.
On this occasion I was able to overnight on the island and was granted a spectacular sunrise, which you see here.
The 'beehive' huts here are drystone construction and have stood in more or less this condition since the monastery was abandoned in the 13th century. Even the ground on which they are built is remarkable, as it's a man-made terrace produced by building up hundreds of tons of rock held in by a series of retaining walls. The monks had no choice in this, as there is virtually no naturally occurring flat space on the island.

The famous Skellig islands, Skellig Michael (on the left) and the Small Skellig are seen on a calm evening near the Vernal Equinox at sunset.

This is an iconic location, the view down the slip road to the harbour at Dunquin (Dún Chaoin), at the tip of the Dingle peninsula. From here you can catch the boat to the Blasket Islands.
Made on a stormy afternoon using a long exposure, the waves have turned to mist, swirling around the rocks just offshore.

Clogher is the place to be in a westerly storm. It's a fairly narrow bay and the wind and waves coming through it are always amplified. Never more so than on this stormy afternoon in January 2014. The wind was so fierce that it was a challenge to stand, let alone make photographs and the spray was constant.
Inis Tuaisceart, the Sleeping Giant, is visible on the horizon just past the breaking wave.

Ireland took a beating in early 2014 with storm after storm crashing into the coast from the Atlantic. This image was made on February 8th at Cromwell Point on Valentia Island. A huge wave threatens to engulf the lighthouse.

The sun rises over the Cromwell Point Lighthouse on Valentia Island.

Slea Head is by far the most iconic of Dingle locations. On the very fringes of our island, it's an incredibly rugged and wild place. Even the roads have difficulty here - a section of the nearby Slea Head drive slipped into the sea some years ago. The new section is a little further inland now!
This image was made shortly after sunset on a stormy December day. The clouds, which had been stubbornly persistent on the horizon, cleared for a few seconds to give a glimpse of the glorious colours behind them, before closing again just as quickly.
From left to right, the islands visible are, Inishvickallaun, Inishnabro and the Great Blasket.

The monastery on Skellig Michael dates from the 6th century and is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Perched on a man-made terrace 600 feet above the Atlantic, it's possibly my favourite place in the world. This photograph was made looking into the rising sun - a rare privilege!

The Skellig Islands seen at sunset on an autumn day as a gannet flies overhead.

Valentia is a large island just off the north coast of the Iveragh peninsula. Connected to the mainland by a bridge, it's a lovely place to visit and has some stunning scenery. This image was made while returning from the abortive attempt to land on Inishteareaght and shows the north coast of the island being battered by a storm.
It's a rare privilege to see this kind of weather in action from the air, so I'm pleased to be able to share it with you.