Some islanders never leave Galveston, and out of those, a few never even cross the causeway. Others unfortunately bear firsthand witness to the local legend of the “Galveston Crabs,” and leave with a promise to never return. Still others begin their journey of life in Galveston and take what they are taught here out into the world, but in their hearts, they never truly leave. 

 For these, the island natives who comprise a large portion of the greater Houston population (and one reason why Galveston is beloved by tens of thousands of people who do not even live here), much of their time is spent cruising south down the Gulf Freeway. They revel in the nature and celebrate island culture almost as much as any Galveston resident, all the while hoping that someday, their journey will bring them home.

 “My mom’s family is from the island, they all went through Ball High,” says Chris Elliot, a professional photographer based in Clear Lake who captured this month’s cover image. 

 “So, I was born on the island and we probably moved to the mainland when I was five or six. Didn’t go far—we went to Texas City. But still every Sunday, we went to church down there, and my grandmother and all of her friends were down there, so I was on the island at least a couple of times a week growing up.” 

 Even through college, Chris continued to attend services at Trinity Episcopal Church, and his wife worked at UTMB for a time. Since then, his career as a professional photographer has taken him around the world, from British Columbia to the Galapagos Islands. Yet no matter how many foreign lands he captures with his lens, Galveston is never far away, and the island’s robust wildlife has never ceased to be one of his favorite subjects.

 Now that his daughter is fast approaching graduation, Chris muses, “There’s some freedom, maybe? My wife and I have been looking and thinking about what we want to do and where we want to end up.” Unsurprisingly, almost every direction they discuss seems to lead directly to the island. 

 “The East End is just so appealing, and we have several friends who own businesses on Postoffice Street, so we’ve even looked at flats above the businesses,” he says. “There is just so much appeal for us down there, it just feels more…homey. There is such a sense of community, a sense of being.” 

 Chris remembers as a child his father dabbling in photography and being fascinated with cameras. This stirred a bit of interest in the young Chris. “But it never really took,” he says. 

 “Good night, back in the 70s and 80s, you shot something on film and then ran it over to Walgreens real quick, and by the time you got it back you couldn’t remember what settings were on the camera and what you did wrong.” 

 He finished college and pursued his first career without giving photography much of a thought, but after his daughter was born, Chris suddenly found himself inspired by the memories of his childhood. 

 “I thought, you know what? I always loved shooting pictures, so I went out and bought a camera. Then six months later I bought another camera, and not too long after that, I’m doing all that I can with wildlife photography.” 

 His primary interest was birds, in particular the masse of Gulf Coast birds that convene year-round on Galveston Island, all the way from the Bolivar Peninsula to the far west end. “Galveston is an amazing place for birding,” says Chris. 

 He continued working hard on his nature photography, and eventually, Nikon recognized his talent and granted him the esteemed Nikon Professional Services badge. It was a rare accomplishment for someone with no professional training, and an honor typically reserved for professional, full-time photographers. 

 “Then about six years ago or so, I started getting the itch to photograph people,” Chris remembers. “So now, I am probably 75 percent studio-type work, mixed in with outdoor photography of people.” 

 His work consists of corporate headshots, senior pictures, yearbook photos, and family portraits, but what sets his studio work apart from others is its portability. “What we like to specialize in, is all our studio lights are portable,” he explains. “So, if we are doing photography outdoors, we bring all of our studio lights with us.”

 Whereas the hours for prime natural lighting are typically limited to the hour after sunrise and the hour before sunset, his movable studio equipment allows he and his team much more versatility. They have the freedom to shoot outdoors at any time of day and in almost any natural lighting condition. 

 Even on a bright, sunny day, typically the least desirable lighting for outdoor portraits, they will move into a shady spot where the sun streams into the background and use the studio lights to illuminate the subject. 

 The result is dynamic, creating bold and colorful outdoor images that still retain the finesse of studio lighting, but the movability of his studio equipment also allows him to complete big corporate shoots in minimal time because he can do them on-site. 

 

 “I come in, set up a studio in their office, and we knock out fifty headshots in a day,” says Chris. “And you can’t tell the difference between me moving my studio to their facility and if you’re actually in my studio, because it’s all the same equipment.” 

 Still, Chris maintains that wildlife photography is still “big” for him. “I still love to go out,” he maintains. 

 “When I get a free Saturday or a Sunday morning when the weather is right, I’m laying on the sand in Bolivar, or I’m in Lafitte’s Cove during the migration. There are just so many places in Galveston to shoot the birds. I really should use ‘photograph’ the birds, shouldn’t I?” he laughs. 

 And on every trip down I-45, he cannot help but ponder Galveston as a potential future market for both of his interests—wildlife and people. Even after all the years spent building a successful career, after a journey that has traversed thousands of miles, Chris Elliot is still keen on coming home. 

 For more information on Chris and his photography visit www.christopherguyelliott.com. 

 The Legend of the Galveston Crabs
The ‘crabs in a bucket’ phenomenon, humorously parlayed into a local legend 

 Early one summer morning, an old, seasoned fisherman was walking up the jetties back to shore, carrying a bucket of crabs that had been captured in the trap he set the day before. A young man passed by and peered into the bucket. He asked the fisherman, “Shouldn’t you put a lid on that bucket to keep the crabs from getting out?” The fisherman smiled and said, “No need. These are Galveston crabs. Whenever one tries to crawl to the top, the others pull him back down.”