So there I was, on a miserable, grey, cold, drizzly Saturday afternoon standing on a slippery, rock shelf on a popular Mornington Penninsula beach with more that $3000 worth of photography equipment, questioning the seemingly insane decision to walk out to where I was standing as unexpected waves came crashing over the rock ledge, over my runners and four inches up my ankles and tripod.
News reports of fishermen who had washed away to their deaths flashed before me. Men with families and futures who chose the dangers of rock fishing without life vests and safety equipment over their own lives.
Was I as insane as them, with the single-minded focus of capturing ‘the shot’, not considering the possible dangers and consequences of my actions? My only comfort was the vague realisation that I had never heard of a photographer being washed out to sea.
As the water rushed over my ankles I was terrified that I would lose my new camera, my new lens, my footing………..
Would I be able to get my camera bag off? Would I get pulled straight out into the water? How cold was the water? Would I sink quickly? Would I be bashed against the rocks? Would I be able to swim to the beach? Would the guys on paddleboarders make it to me in time?
The low tide was not as low as any of us expected. The sudden ‘freak’ waves that caught us unaware were equally as unexpected. My mentor for this expedition of madness merely told me to “not look out to where the waves are coming from”. Gee….thanks Tom. So comforting.
So I did what any crazy person/photographer would do. I stood my ground, I held on tight to my tripod, I kept pressing my remote shutter release button to capture the action and when the waves settled I figured that, since I was already wet, I might as well stay where I was and keep taking more photos.
When you look at the photo you would never have imagined that there were waves crashing into the rocks just moments before.
Nature is a fickle creature.
A photo a day for 365 days.........and beyond 