July 1942 Page 260 and 261 - Australasian Photo-Review
MOON RISING-SUN SETTING (and vice versa)
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
(Our correspondent, one of the most enthusiastic of our A.P.-R. competitors and contributors, always alert for the unusual, sends these four very successful prints, which will, we are sure, be much appreciated as evidence of keen observation and successful recording. There appear to be unsuspected pictorial possibilities in this direction).
About Easter last year I was driving home from Cessnock when I noticed the moon rising while there was still quite good light. I decided to photograph it next evening, but forgot about the moon being a good deal later in rising each night and so missed the picture.
On the 31st of March this year I saw the same occurrence again, but this time it did not escape me, as I now always carry my Super-XX-loaded Suprema with me. I took one of the moon rising and then turned about and secured the sun setting. The next day, or the day after, I am not sure on this point, I arose about 5.45am and went along towards the same spot and reversed the pictures by taking the sun rising and the moon setting.
I have not investigated the astronomical facts to discover how often during the year it is possible to photograph the sun setting as the full moon is rising and vice versa, but I know the effect is very much more attractive about this time of the year. (This, no doubt, is due to the very clear conditions prevalent in the autumn evenings). Both negatives of the moon were very dense; the one of the moon rising took eight minutes in the enlarger, while the other one was given three minutes. I did not like to reduce them, as I thought I might black-out the moon.
I tried to get a sunset photograph with the sun shown as a disc, but there was too much halation in the result.
FOUR PICTURES TELLING A STORY
“Moon Rising, Evening of March 31st” Exposure 4 seconds, f/3.5 “Sun Setting, Evening of March 31st” Exp. 1/50 second, f/8.
“Sun Rising, Morning of April 1st" Exposure 1 second, f/8 “Moon Setting, Morning of April 1st” Exposure 4 seconds, f/3.5
December 1942 Page 450 - Australasian Photo-Review
IT FOLLOWED HER TO SCHOOL ONE DAY
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
First Prize in the A.P.-R. Senior Set Subject for December 1942.
1/50 sec., f3.5, X1 Filter, Panatomic-X, Suprema.
January 1943 Page 66 - Australasian Photo-Review
MISCHIEF
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
Third Equal in the A.P.-R. Senior OPEN for February 1943.
March 1943 Page 93 - Australasian Photo-Review
SILVER LINING
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
March 1943 Page 102 - Australasian Photo-Review
TREES THAT TOOK WRONG TURNINGS
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
A subject very few of us can resist is the great smooth boled tree towering up into the sky.
Such a tree has a great appeal to me, but even more fascinating, I find is the tree that has taken the “wrong turning”. I have adapted this phrase to fit all those trees which, either by force of circumstances or act of the elements, have taken some unorthodox method of growing.
Some are directly due to storms, floods, or fires; others may be the result of some growth or irritation set up within the tree itself. I am not aware of the cause of these various growths, although it is a subject in itself which must be of considerable interest.
Doubtless many people will regard them as grotesque freaks, but to me they are far less grotesque than a lot of modern efforts by man to portray art in its most up-to-date form.
In photograph No. 1 will be seen a tree that has truly "gone haywire” to use a present-day expression. The tree is an Angophera, often referred to as a Red Gum and was growing near the seashore at Port Stephens. Unfortunately it has since become a victim to the Bulldozer; it was in the way of man’s progress and where it stood there is now a roadway. The tree had grown in a complete circle and joined together in a perfect graft. This union is easily seen above the head of the boy who is framed within the smooth limbs.
This tree was one mass of twisted limbs, knobs and projections, but was in itself most graceful and a never ending source of interest to visitors.
In the lower illustration the tree appears to have been blown down, probably when it was very small, though this theory may be discounted, as the tree is facing the prevailing wind. Whatever the cause of the growth, the tree as it is now presents a natural archway which I feel is more picturesque than grotesque.
In picture No. 3 is a tree that may fairly be termed “Screwy”, but in the uniformity of its odd shape lies its undoubted charm and artistic design. Curiously, several other trees in the same paddock had this formation, but not to the extent that had this particular one.
These are only three examples of our familiar friend the tree. You have not far to look to find many such examples, but don’t be too hasty to condemn them as subjects for photographs since they are unorthodox in shape.
Top left: UNION IS STRENGTH
Top right: THE CORKSCREW
Lower: SCREWY
August 1943 Page 308 - Australasian Photo-Review
IN THE BAG
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
October 1943 Page 356 - Australasian Photo-Review
SELF PORTRAIT
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
November 1943 Page 393 - Australasian Photo-Review
MOONLIGHT MEETING
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
November 1943 Page 396 - Australasian Photo-Review
PRAYING MANTIS
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
August 1944 Australasian Photo-Review
BIRDLAND GAZETTE
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
COLOR IMAGES FROM OTHER SOURCES
GOULD’S PETREL
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
GOULD’S PETREL
On Cabbage Tree Island, just off Port Stephens, is the sole nesting place, as far as we know, of the Gould's Petrel (Pterodroma leucoptera). For over a hundred years the birds have been returning each year among the loose boulders under the cabbage trees. Unmolested by animals and birds, they have one very real danger to contend with. Like most sea birds, they cannot fly directly off the ground, so flutter and clamber their way down the stony gully to the sea, where they can enter the water and take off against the wind or fly off some rocky ledge. It is on this journey that they meet their fate. There is a large-leaved soft wooded tree with great clusters of sticky seeds. The seeds of this tree, known as the Bird-lime Tree (Pisonia brunoniana) fall to the ground, where they become entangled in the feathers of any luckless bird that flounders across them on its way to the sea. So entangled do they become that they cannot use their wings or feet and must die of starvation. As many as 150 seeds have been counted on one bird, so it can well be seen what chance they would have of survival. The bird in the photograph had very few seeds on it, but was quite unable to move and was very weak. After carefully removing the seeds the bird was placed on the water, where it swam about and appeared to have some chance of survival.
PAINTED SNIPE
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
PAINTED SNIPE
The Painted Snipe (Rostratula australis) is a bird that is probably seldom seen by anyone other than ornithologists and shooters, as it spends its time along the edges of swamps and marshes and rises quickly when disturbed and flies with a very fast zig-zag flight and when it settles has the habit of squatting in hiding, There are two other members of the snipe family in Australia — the Pin-tailed Snipe (Gallinago megala) and the Australian Snipe (Gallinago hardwicki), both of these being migratory birds which leave for Siberia and Japan as the cooler months of autumn arrive. The Painted Snipe is one of the most beautifully marked birds we have and the above specimen furnished a most valuable photograph, especially as it showed such gameness when approached with the camera. The bird was found near a swamp and was apparently sick, as it made no attempt to fly away.
BLACK DUCK OR GREY DUCK
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
BLACK DUCK OR GREY DUCK
The best-known duck in Australia is probably the Black Duck, or Grey Duck (Anas superciliosa), and in the above photograph the old mother duck covering her brood is giving an excellent military example of making use of all available cover. Crouched in this position she looks nice and friendly, but woe betide anyone who attempts to touch the ducklings or the duck. With all the strength she possesses she will hurl herself on any intruder, using "all-in” methods — wings, beak and feet. When she starts to sit on the eggs, which may number from seven to thirteen, she plucks the downy feathers from her breast to use as a cover for the eggs at such times when she has to go off for some food. The duck does all the housework; the drake keeps watch for any danger but does not share in the rearing of the family.
BLACKFRONTED DOTTRELL
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
BLACKFRONTED DOTTRELL
All golfers are familiar with the term "Birdie”, but not all of them do a nice drive to find their ball lying along side a nest of "Birdies”. This particular player was in the rather ticklish position of being too near the bird’s nest for their own safety and for his own liking. The specimen surveying the earth from the rather precarious position on the "repaint” is a baby Blackfronted Dottrell (Charadrius melanops). Known to all and sundry as a "Sandpiper”, it is quite a familiar little chap, seen usually sprinting along with great speed wherever there is a shallow water hole or sandy river flat. When it flies it gets off the mark quickly with a zig-zag flight accompanied by a "chip-chip-chip”, which is plainly heard from quite a distance. Another one of the "puzzle-find-my-nest” species. When the eggs are laid in gravel they just about defy location. Such a small subject might have been better with a plain environment, but, of course, it would hardly be in keeping with the royal and ancient game to carry a blanket over to the seventh green! A Graflex exposure.
THE JABIRU OR BLACK-NECKED STORK
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
THE JABIRU OR BLACK-NECKED STORK
The famed storks of Europe which nest on chimney pots are represented in Australia by the Jabiru, or Black necked Stork (Xenorhynchus asiaticus). Found mainly in the northern and eastern parts of Australia from the Fitzroy River to North-eastern Australia, it also occurs in New Guinea, Malay Archipelago, Burma and India. Like most of the Storks and Cranes, it hunts quietly about the swamps, jabbing with lightning-like rapidity at frogs and fish with its large beak. This, of course, is a Zoo portrait and presented little difficulty, but fortune was kinder than usual with the background.
BUFF-RUMPED THORNHILLS
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
BUFF-RUMPED THORNHILLS
One pair of Buff-Rumped Thornbills (Acanthiza reguloides) decided to be ultra-modern and instead of placing the nest in a cleft of bark in the trunk of a tree, as is usual, built their home in the old rusty methylated spirit tin as seen in the photograph. The can had been thrown out some months before and become caught by the handle in a small ti-tree. The brood was successfully reared, but only just. Two days after the birds left a severe storm blew the nest down. These birds, known only too well to nest-hunting boys, are generally an easy mark both for them and the Narrow-billed Bronze Cuckoo. It is probably their fearlessness in both cases that gives away the position of their nests. Several exposures were made of the subject by means of the "length of cotton and mousetrap” method, but the birds moved in each case and I had to be content with the nest only.
STONE PLOVER
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
STONE PLOVER
The Stone Plover (Burhinus magnirostris), commonly known as the Curlew, on account of its familiar call, has developed to a high degree the powers of mimicry. This is to be expected from a bird which spends its life in plains, open forest country and mud-flats, where birds of prey, dingoes and the fox (since its importation) form its natural enemies. In the photograph the female Plover is seen stretched out on its nest and but for the open eye it is almost impossible to detect it from a scrap of dead wood. When approaching the nest the bird walks stiffly with extremely slow motion and should it become scared will stop rigidly in its tracks. So well marked are the eggs that no attempt is made at a nest other than a slight depression in the ground, the protective colouration making them extremely hard to find. When mating, the birds spread their wings, ruffle all their feathers up and dance and stalk around each other. The photograph was made years ago with a V.P.K. and portrait attachment. The result seems satisfactory, even when compared with the work of my more modern present camera.
GREY-BREASTED SILVER-EYE
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
GREY-BREASTED SILVER-EYE
The target of many a schoolboy's shanghai, the well known Grey-breasted Silver-eye (Zosterops lateralis) varies its usual diet of insect pests with a little fruit and thus earns the dislike of the orchardist and home gardener. It has been proved to do far more good than harm, but it is very hard to convince the orchardist of this who, naturally, sees him doing more damage than good, but just watch how he cleans up the aphis and caterpillars on the rose bushes and shrubs and you will meet a friend indeed. The first victims of my new gadget referred to in the May “A.P.-R.”. These birds move very quickly when feeding and a fast exposure has resulted in an under-exposed photograph — l/100 second at f11 even in bright sunlight does not allow much definition in a very close-up shot with the shadowy mass of the fig-tree behind.
SILVER GULL
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
SILVER GULL
Apart from being a familiar decoration around our harbours and beaches, where he is useful as a scavenger, the Silver Gull (Larus novae hellandiae) is a robber of other sea-birds eggs. Where this photograph was taken the young birds were so tame that they frequently sat on the stern of the launch and allowed themselves to be picked up and examined. It was quite a common sight to see ten to fifteen birds on the stern at one time. The print illustrates this aspect. Exposure was made well out at sea, luckily on a fairly calm day. Such shots are often rendered most difficult by the movement of the launch. (This photograph was made by good friend A.B. Keith Watkins).
PLAIN TURKEY OR BUSTARD
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
PLAIN TURKEY OR BUSTARD
Another bird which lets its emotions have full sway during the nesting season is the Plain Turkey or Bustard {Eupoditis australis). The accompanying photograph was taken at Wahroonga some time ago and shows the extra ordinary position the male bird assumes when showing off in front of the hen. The head is held erect and tilted back, the tail feathers thrown forward over the back and wings held out stiffly. All the feathers of the neck then start to raise outwards and at the same time the bird inflates a “gular pouch” in the throat to such an extent that it swells up like the bag on bagpipes. When fully inflated the pouch reaches to the ground and the feathers drag in the earth as the bird moves slightly forward. As a rule the vain old chap stands statue like for some time, every now and then uttering a deep peculiar “Boom” which is accompanied by a swaying movement of the body, causing the inflated bag to swing from side to side. The hen bird stands a few yards away, apparently unmoved by the grand performance. One of our most useful destroyers of grasshoppers, beetles and crickets, this splendid bird, sad to say, is greatly sought by man as a table delicacy. It is protected, but, even so, is not common, except well away from settlements. Like the other plain frequenting birds, it falls a victim to the introduced fox. This was taken with a stereoscopic camera, also some time ago.
MAGPIE LARK OR PEEWEE
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
MAGPIE LARK OR PEEWEE
The Magpie Lark, or Peewee (Grallina cyanoleuca), so well known to everyone, is a bird that has adapted itself to all kinds of surroundings. Noted for its fearless nature, when hawks or other large birds are about it will attack anything of any size, should they come near the nesting tree. One pair I knew had such a fondness for their old home of dried mud that they returned to it year after year till in the end they had a five-storey building weighing seven pounds!
December 1944 Page 429 - Australasian Photo-Review
WIND FROM THE WEST
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
December 1944 Page 444 - Australasian Photo-Review
OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
July 1945 Page 314 - Australasian Photo-Review
GOT HIM!
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
November - December 1945 Page 487 - Australasian Photo-Review
DAME NATURE AS TOPIARIST
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
When we hear an unusual name of some country town for the first time we are generally inclined to dismiss it without much thought; few people possibly realize how colorful the names really are. You are probably wondering where the connection between place names and photography comes in. There may not be any connection at all — for a start; but when ever I hear a name like “Owl Pen Lane” or “Cranky Corner”, I begin to metaphorically “sniff around” and find myself connecting it with some outstanding incident or landmark which surely must have some photographic value. Consequently, it is not surprising to find me “hovering about” in the vicinity at the earliest opportunity armed with the trusty camera.
During a recent cup of coffee with members of “The Fivepenny Club” (here at once is a curious name, but I cannot wander off the beaten track to divulge its origin), one of the regulars who travels around the country a good deal said he knew of a place where there was a most interesting photographic possibility. We have all heard these reports before and know how often they turn out to be nothing outstanding, but as this was one of our highly respected members, I felt quite sure he would not lead me on a wild goose chase, although the place was far enough away to make any goose wild if he had to go there and back on a gas producer.
The names Dingadee, Weismantels, The Monkerai, The Dark Bulga and Linger and Die, came up in quick succession and this should have been enough inducement to anyone not familiar with the places to investigate forthwith. However, I knew them well, knew their steep winding mountain roads and knew the heavily timbered ranges; but his story so interested me that I decided to investigate his reported find.
About a year ago something in the nature of a tornado traveled across from Cessnock (N.S.W.), where it playfully threw a score of rooftops about and decided to start its fun again a few miles out from the town of Dungog, near Main Creek. At a place known locally as the Dark Entry it hit with all its force and cut down the great timber and brush as if done by some maniac. It only lasted possibly forty minutes, but the damage done in that short time was indescribable. Trees were strewn about all over the place, telephone poles were rooted out of the ground and houses unroofed, bark was twisted off some of the trees as they stood and very few of them left standing had any branches intact. Now the early spring growth is breaking out, following on the great fires of last summer. These growths were so unusual, according to the report, that they resembled the Topiary art practised by some gardeners on hedges and shrubs. (Topiary, in case you do not know, is the name given to the practice of trimming shrubs to resemble animal shapes).
Accordingly, a week later, having stacked the car up with charcoal, two cameras and a movie (yes, with a bit of long-hoarded film in it), lunch, passengers and the driver-photographer, we set out with a “hope-for-the-best” sort of feeling in the crisp wintery air.
We passed through Dungog and were just negotiating a steep little pinch about five miles out of the town, when one of the back tyres expired. The spare was put on, we were all ready to start and were comfortably seated when the starter gave a faint click.
This is the heralder of really good news, as any motorist knows. It is ring gear trouble, or, in other words, a jammed starter. The usual procedure is to put the car in top gear, rock it gently backwards and forwards, when another faint click is heard, indicating that the ring gear has come out of the groove and so has the frown on the motorist's forehead. All the rocking we were capable of would not fix it, and as I was not going to spoil good clothes messing about with the starter motor, I had to proceed back to Dungog on foot. This is also the usual procedure! After about an hour’s walk (not forgetting to take the camera and a couple of filters with me) the garage man was hailed by phone from the first house.
In due course the trouble was fixed and as the mechanic considered the spot was worth a visit, I decided to push on. After the luncheon adjournment we set out on the next five miles over extremely steep and twisty turns, eventually coming to our objective without further mishap.
The sight that spread before us was truly amazing. The whole side of one mountain was completely bare of undergrowth, fallen dead trees lay everywhere and almost without exception those that remained standing had been stripped of all but a few main limbs.
THE “DARK ENTRY”
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
(As it is today — formerly one of Dungog’s beauty spots).
NEW GROWTH
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
(Third Equal, Class A, Set Subject Tree Study)
Many had their tops blown clean off, leaving only bare poles.
As the sun was very close to the top of the range I could see that I had very little time to get some photographs. The breakdown had robbed me of precious time and I found it impossible to get a photograph looking directly at the main area, so had to move quickly up the slope and take one with more or less side lighting. Even here a lens hood was really needed and then I made the discovery that mine was safe in a drawer at home. However, a stray tennis ball was found in the car and cutting a slice off one side I found it made quite a good makeshift lens hood, even if it was not black (I suppose I could have rubbed soot from the gas producer over the inner surface, but I am not so fond of gas producers as to tackle that).
Most of the good trees to photograph were in the wrong direction, but two standing near the road together looked fair targets. Using a red filter, I took two exposures from slightly different angles. The use of the red filter, of course, was to bring out the white trunks against the blue sky. Five exposures finished the film, so I set off down the road to see what lay ahead, knowing I had another Verichrome in the bag. When I arrived at a very interesting place I made a discovery that set me back on my heels. The film was a 120 with a wooden spool and I wanted a 620. With no hope of rewinding it, I sat down and thought of “Profit by Mistakes” and felt pretty mad. However, I consoled myself with the fact that by now the sun was just about useless for further photography, so gazed at the weird patterns and shapes around me.
Soon we were on our way home and I had a growing feeling that I would be back before long to complete the job and see the other end of the damaged area.
Five weeks later I made up a party with O.A. Sims and our wives and landed back at the spot on the most made-to-order spring day. “Mare’s Tail” cirrus clouds were weaving fantastic patterns in the sky, a fitting “backdrop” to this little part of the world, which was indeed a stage.
All around the “cast” was made up by the quaint, leafy shapes of the trees, some so realistic in their animal-like forms that the freshening gusts of westerly wind gave us the impression that they really were alive.
Several times we stopped as new shapes appeared and each time we would hurry away to investigate, leaving the ladies in charge of the car, which may appear rather ungallant; but we move fast on such outings, and we had to make the most of the short time at our disposal. Many shapes were seen equally as good as the few we had already recorded, but, as everyone knows, there is a very real limit to film these days, and by the time we had made some exposures of landscapes and clouds our film quota had about run out.
And so you see how places can be connected with photography, for while you retain your own mental picture of such outings, your good friend the camera records it for others to see far better than can be described in words by the average individual.
We had passed through Dingadee, over the Monkerai Range, past the Dark Bulga and climbed “Linger and Die” Hill on the way to Weismantels; and I was able to go back to my friend at the “Five penny Club” and thank him for putting me on to what certainly did not turn out to be a wild goose chase.
November - December 1945 Page 514 - Australasian Photo-Review
PAVEMENT GOSSIP
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
November - December 1945 Page 523 - Australasian Photo-Review
EUCALYPTUS GROSSA
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
March 1947 Page 119 - Australasian Photo-Review
CLOUDS AT SUNSET
ATHEL F. D’OMBRAIN
January 1949 Page 60 - Australasian Photo-Review
Writes A.F. D’Ombrain: “A little while back, when we were at Port Stephens for a week-end, Robin announced that he was going off 'to photograph a tree', taking with him an old Box Brownie which I had patched up for him. He was quite on his own and received no help from anyone. The resultant shot rather staggered me. For a seven-year-old at his first attempt with a Brownie it rather made me feel that I had better not have him around when I’m printing some of my own exposures. How about an A.P.-R. "Father and Son" Contest? Only trouble might be a slight tendency for the fathers to 'squib it'!”
November 1949 Page 724 - Australasian Photo-Review
Athel F. D’Ombrain recently went through a strange experience — but let him tell his story in his own words: “Whilst in Victoria I took the opportunity of visiting the spot in Sherbrook Forest where my Dad’s ashes were scattered. My uncle and a friend had marked a tree and all of us were keen to stand again in the area where my father had spent so many happy days of his bird-loving youth. When we reached it, we found to our surprise that three lyre birds were feeding nearby. After watching the trio from a distance, I ventured into the scrub and quietly worked my way towards them. Two took alarm and ran off down the gully, but the third bird 'stayed his ground' and I was astounded to find that I could get within three feet of him. The light was very bad, as you can well imagine it would be in a dense forest at 3.30 p.m. in winter time, but I could not resist the urge to bring my camera into play. Setting my Kodak Suprema at 1/10 second at f/3.5, I made several exposures, one of which I have enclosed as evidence that my tale is no “fish story”. It also reflects great credit on the good old Kodak Super-XX. The all but incredible climax to the incident occurred when we finally came to realize that the tree alongside which the bird had been scratching was the very tree that my uncle and his friend had marked”.
November 1949 Page 724 - Australasian Photo-Review
Athel D’Ombrain would not be A.F.D. if he did not have some unusual experience during his holidays. Here’s his latest:
“Walking along the waterfront while I was staying with friends at the Salt Pan Cove (Newport, N.S.W.) in January, I was more than astonished to observe a koala bear standing out in the mud and shallow water beneath the mangroves. Naturally, I had my Suprema handy and secured several negatives. A reproduction from a print of one of these will be seen below. After nibbling casually at the mangrove shoots for quite a time the bear turned and sedately picked its way shorewards in the general direction of a nearby boat shed.
“Wishing to help it on its way, I picked it up and carried it to a nearby eucalypt, placing it well up the sloping trunk. I noticed that it was a rather old bear with several large ticks on the underside of its neck.
“It appeared that my well-meant efforts were not at all appreciated; it grumbled several times and also gave me a nasty “mind-your-own-business” type of look. It also promptly slithered backwards down the tree and went out again into the swamp, where it had a few more nibbles at the mangrove shoots.
“By this time it had decided just where it wanted to go. Setting off with quite an astonishing turn of speed, it climbed up five steps, walked across a lawn, then across a small beach, and followed a long brick path until it reached the roadway, a distance of well over a hundred yards. I followed just to see it safely across the highway.
“Eventually it found an ironbark tree with a fork convenient to its taste.
“Apparently there are quite a lot of bears about this part of the district and the residents endeavor to keep an eye on their welfare.
“The action of a bear coming down into salt water is quite new to me, but apparently was not at all new to the bear, who seemed to know exactly what he wanted. Bears are known to change their diet at certain times of the year by eating different types of leaf, but I will leave it to the experts to let us know just what function mangrove shoots play in furnishing items necessary to their diet. Maybe it was just another way of 'reaching for the salt'!”.
September 1950 Page 587 - Australasian Photo-Review
Robin D’Ombrain has completed a model in balsa wood of the famous Kon-Tiki raft which drifted across the Pacific from South America to the Marquesas last year and it will subsequently be displayed in the window of the local booksellers. Talking of rafts, when Athel F. D'Ombrain wrote on 4th August, Maitland railway station was still under water, the river having risen and fallen several times during the previous few days.
March 1951 Page 192 - Australasian Photo-Review
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
Athel D’Ombrain is now sporting a tiny gold marlin in his buttonhole, one of only two yet awarded by the N.S.W. Association, Such was the magic of the little emblem that it was almost productive of a snapper breakfast for the jury of selection and for the award judge at Maitland Salon.
November 1952 Page 706 - Australasian Photo-Review
ATHEL F. D'OMBRAIN
We were driving along a busy main road in the Maitland district when my eye, ever alert for feathered activity, sighted a Spurwinged Plover rising from the edge of a bare paddock only 20 yards or so from the side of the road. We stopped the car and sure enough there was the plover’s nest in full view right out in the open. Robin was soon busy with his Duaflex and its portrait attachment working at 2ft. 8in. Robin secured a good picture.
ROBIN D’OMBRAIN