The North Beach Clubhouse, Dewey Beach: The Problem, and Four Ways Out

On a strip between two waters the wind is the venue’s defining condition. Four ways to work with it.

On a narrow barrier strip between the Atlantic and Rehoboth Bay, the defining photographic problem is not light. It is wind.

The geography guarantees it. Land between two bodies of water has nothing on it tall enough to break a breeze, and the temperature difference between water and land drives an onshore flow that builds through every warm morning and peaks in the afternoon. The strip is only a few hundred metres wide in places, which means there is nowhere on it more than a short walk from exposed water on both sides.

The consequences are specific rather than general. A lightstand will go over. A veil will not behave, and that needs saying to a couple in advance rather than discovering it. A held diffusion panel becomes a sail. Hair needs managing continuously. Anything unweighted will move. And on the ocean side, spray carries.

There are four ways out and the geography itself supplies most of them. We have not photographed a wedding at the North Beach Clubhouse; barrier-strip sites behave consistently. Which areas are included, whether both shorelines are accessible and what the covered alternative is are questions for their team.

The North Beach Clubhouse at a glance

Where	Dewey Beach, Delaware, on a barrier strip
The problem	Wind from both sides with nothing to break it
Way one	Use the bay shore as the lee side; it usually is
Way two	Work the covered structures. Way three: change the timing
Way four	Make the wind the subject rather than the obstacle

Ways one and two: the lee side, and the covered structures

The first way out is the geography, and it is free. On a warm day the breeze here is onshore — from the ocean towards the land — which means the bay side of the strip is in the lee of it. The buildings, the dunes and the strip itself all break the flow, and a bay shoreline a few hundred metres west of a windy ocean beach can be genuinely calm.

That has two payoffs. A veil behaves on the bay when it will not on the ocean, and still bay water gives a mirror reflection that a rippled surface cannot. So the portraits, the veil frames and the reflection frames all belong on the bay side by default, and the ocean side is for the frames that want surf and movement in them.

It reverses after dark, when the land cools faster than the water and the flow can turn offshore — which means the ocean side becomes the calmer of the two in the late evening. That is worth knowing, though the bay has the sunset, so the allocation rarely changes in practice.

The second way out is the covered structures, and on a resort-strip site there are usually several: a deck with a roof, a covered bar, a pavilion, a porch, a boardwalk shelter. Each does three things at once — blocks the overhead component of the sun that puts eye sockets in shadow, restricts the light to a horizontal band, which is direction, and reflects off the boards below to fill under the chin.

That is a balanced three-source setup occurring naturally, and it is wind-sheltered, which makes it the single most useful position on the property. Two or three metres in from the open edge, facing out, is the working position, and on a bayside deck there is a fourth contribution from the water in front acting as a large low reflector.

Covered structures are also the rain answer, which on this coast is not optional. A roof with an open face is the wet-weather version of an outdoor block rather than its cancellation, and wet boards reflecting sky and lighting photograph better than dry — so a shower is an opportunity delayed. What a deck is not is a substitute for a genuine enclosed space in a nor’easter, and a named indoor alternative with a known capacity, agreed at booking, is a requirement.

One condition on a deck: direct sun coming in under the roof turns a soft source into a hard one with a hard edge. That is a matter of orientation and hour, and the venue will know which decks are shaded when — worth asking, because it also tells you which are sheltered from the prevailing breeze.

Ways three and four: timing, and making it the subject

The third way out is timing, and it works because the wind here is thermally driven rather than random. It builds through the morning as the land heats, peaks in the afternoon, and drops in the evening as the land cools and the temperature difference collapses.

That produces two calm windows: early morning, before the flow has established, and the last hour of daylight and after, when it has fallen away. Both are also the best light of the day, which is a convenient coincidence rather than a trade-off.

Practically it means the frames that need stillness — the veil, any reflection, a long exposure, anything with a light modifier in it — should be scheduled into those windows rather than attempted at three in the afternoon. And the frames that tolerate or want movement can happen in the middle of the day.

The shoulder seasons are calmer for the same reason. In May and October the temperature difference between water and land is smaller than in July, which means the sea breeze is weaker — so a still evening on the bay is more likely in the shoulder months than at the height of summer.

The fourth way out is to stop fighting and make the wind the subject, which on this coast produces some of the best frames available. A dress or a veil moving is a genuinely good picture when it is anticipated rather than resisted: it gives shape, motion and a sense of place that a still frame does not, and it is unrepeatable, which suits a wedding.

The requirements are modest and worth naming. A fast shutter to hold the edges of moving fabric — slower than about a five-hundredth and a veil becomes a blur rather than a shape. Framing that allows room for the fabric to move into, because the interesting version usually happens outside where the camera was pointed. And a willingness to take a great many frames, because the one where it works cannot be predicted.

The same applies to hair, which is the harder half: a veil moving reads as intentional and hair across a face reads as a mistake. The practical answers are to work with the wind behind the couple so it carries hair away from their faces rather than across them, and to make the wind frames deliberate rather than continuous.

And surf on the ocean side is the landscape version: a long exposure smooths it into a field while a fast one holds every droplet, and on a windy day there is more of it to work with. That is a choice rather than a compromise, and it needs a neutral density filter in daylight for the smooth version.

Underneath all four ways, one configuration: the source in a hand or on a bracket rather than on a stand. That is not a workaround here, it is simply the correct equipment decision for the site, and it should be the plan rather than the fallback.

• The bay is the lee side on a warm day — put the veil and reflections there
• Two or three metres in from a covered structure’s open edge, facing out
• Schedule the still frames into early morning and the last hour
• Fast shutter for moving fabric; slower than a five-hundredth and it blurs
• Work with the wind behind the couple so hair goes away from faces

The two waters, and the Delaware year

The strip’s real asset is that it has two shorelines facing opposite directions within a five-minute walk, and they are different water in every respect.

The ocean faces east, so it is frontlit at sunrise — when the beach is also empty, which in a resort town is true at no other hour — and sidelit through the middle of the day, which is the best beach light: one side of a face lit and the other filled by the sand, which reflects strongly upward. Its cost is uplight under the chin, corrected by something solid on one side.

The bay faces west and is shallow and sheltered, which means it takes the sunset and goes calm in the evening. A low camera across still water reflecting a sunset sky is the best frame the location gives, and camera height is the governing variable, because shallow water is transparent from above and a mirror from low down.

In the ten minutes after sunset there is one frame that uses both, and it needs a short walk rather than a drive: the western sky over the bay is warm while the eastern sky over the ocean has gone deep blue. Two colours of sky in one location is unusual.

The two waters run on different seasons. The ocean has a long thermal lag, which makes it coldest in spring and warmest in September — so late spring is the foggiest time on the ocean side, and fog is a transformation rather than a loss, erasing the horizon so that ocean and sky become one field of tone. September is the clearest and most comfortable month on this coast.

The bay, being shallow, warms and cools quickly and is more reliably calm in the shoulder seasons.

Salt and sand are what the location does to equipment. Airborne salt settles on a front element and on exposed metal, attracts moisture and etches coatings over time, so a damp cloth on the front element and body at the end of the day is routine rather than optional. Sand is worse in the short term, because a grain in a zoom barrel or on a sensor is a repair rather than a clean — which in wind means minimal lens changes and everything bagged between positions.

Summer is hot, humid and busy, with the crowds concentrated on a narrow strip and the sea breeze at its strongest. The humidity makes fogging severe: a body carried from an air-conditioned interior into July air fogs on every surface at once and does not clear quickly.

Autumn brings nor’easters, genuine coastal storms with sustained wind and heavy surf rather than mere rain. On a barrier strip that is a serious weather event, and it is the case for which the named enclosed alternative exists. Heavy surf under a grey sky, from a safe distance, is also the most dramatic frame this coast produces.

Winter is cold, windy and empty. The December midday sun here reaches only about twenty-eight degrees above the horizon, which makes the whole short day raking light, both shorelines are unpopulated, and both timed frames fall at civilised hours. The wind is the cost and it is a genuine welfare consideration on ground exposed from two sides — short excursions with coats, and a warm interior to return to.

More frames from The North Beach Clubhouse

The North Beach Clubhouse wedding photography: common questions

Why is wind the defining problem here?

Because a narrow strip between two bodies of water has nothing tall enough to break a breeze, and the land-sea temperature difference drives an onshore flow every warm day.

What is the free fix?

The bay side. On a warm day the breeze is onshore, so the bay shore is in the lee — which is where the veil frames and the reflections belong.

Why are covered structures so useful?

A roof with an open face blocks the overhead sun, gives direction, and the boards bounce back to fill — and it is wind-sheltered, which is the point here.

When is it calm?

Early morning, before the flow establishes, and the last hour of daylight and after, when the land cools. Both are also the best light of the day.

Can the wind be used rather than fought?

Yes, and it produces some of the best frames — a moving veil is a real picture. It needs a fast shutter, room in the frame, and the wind behind the couple.

Which season is calmer?

The shoulder months. In May and October the water-land temperature difference is smaller than in July, so the sea breeze is weaker.

More Delaware venue guides

We are writing a photographer’s guide to every venue we would happily shoot in Delaware. Here are three more, plus the full index:

• The Rehoboth Beach Country Club: The Light Through a Day
• Rockwood Park, Wilmington: The One Decision That Governs Everything
• The Rusty Rudder, Dewey Beach: The One Decision That Governs Everything

All Delaware →

Planning a wedding at The North Beach Clubhouse?

The wind is the venue’s condition. Tell us your date and we will work with it.

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