The fog didnt roll in. It materialized. One moment, the concrete skyline of Chongqing was a sharp, brutalist cutout against a pale sky. The next, it was a watercolor wash, the buildings bleeding into the citys humid breath. After years of hauling my

The air over the Yangtze was that strange, pre-dawn blue—thick with humidity and the smell of diesel. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my

The morning light hit the Qutang Gorge like a blade. I was standing on the bow of the Century Paragon, a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand and my DSLR already braced against the railing. After years hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South Ame

After years of hauling my camera gear through the thick, humid jungles of South America and weaving through the chaotic markets of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. Boarding the Century Paragon at Chaotian

I was standing on the balcony of the Century Paragon, watching the first light of day bleed into the Qutang Gorge. The water was flat, black, and impossibly deep—a mirror waiting for a crack of color. After years of hauling my camera gear through the ju

The Cargo Hold of a Digital NomadThe image is still sharp in my mind: a misty dawn over the Qutang Gorge, a single sampan drifting through the jade green water, and my Nikon D850 firing off a bracket of exposures. After years of hauling my camera gear thr

The top deck of the Century Paragon was slick with dew at 5:30 AM. I sipped lukewarm coffee from a thermos and watched the mist peel back from the sheer limestone cliffs. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of Colombia and the volcan

After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. As a photographer, I evaluate a cruise ship differently. I dont just ask a

The air is thick and grey, a damp blanket that muffles the sound of the Century Paragons horn as we push away from Chaotianmen Port. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel P

The morning light had just begun to fracture the mist over Qutang Gorge when I first saw the plank road. It was barely a scratch on the cliff face, a line of ancient stone brackets where Qing dynasty laborers once hauled boats against the current. After y

The first thing I noticed wasnt the ship. It was the light. A low, amber haze hanging over the confluence of the Jialing and Yangtze rivers as I stood on the deck of the Century Paragon at Chaotianmen Port. After years of hauling my camera gear through

The water wasnt the jade green I expected. From the bow of the Century Paragon, the Yangtze was the color of old pewter, churning against the limestone karsts. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands o

The mist wasnt just morning fog; it was a slow, deliberate dampness that clung to everything—the polished brass railings of my balcony, the glass of my 24-70mm lens, and the back of my neck. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles o

After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. As a photographer, I evaluate a cruise ship differently. I dont ask about

The light was wrong. That was my first thought when I stepped onto the balcony of my cabin on the Century Victory. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally

After years of hauling my camera gear through the cloud forests of Colombia and the volcanic ash of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. I have been shooting landscapes that move, and believe me, nothing move

The air smelled of diesel and river silt. I was standing on the bow of the Century Paragon, watching Chaotianmen Port dissolve into a haze of neon and fog. After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indon

The light over Qutang Gorge this morning was the kind of pale, milky gold you only get in early April. I was on the top deck of the Century Paragon, my DSLR tethered to a tripod, when the first band of peach blossoms caught the sun. They bled into the lim

The light here is different. After years of hauling my DSLR through the salt flats of Bolivia and the misty volcanoes of Java for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. A river is a line—a leading line, if you frame it rig

After years of hauling my camera gear through the jungles of South America and the islands of Indonesia for My Travel Photo Blog, I finally pointed my lens at the Yangtze River. As a photographer, I evaluate a cruise ship differently than most passengers.