There we were, on a small boat a mile or two off of a remote island in the middle of the South Pacific. We had been bobbing around in the waves all day, trying our best to fight off sea sickness. Suddenly our boat captain pointed in the distance and we all scrambled to put on our masks and fins.
Before I knew it we were in the water swimming as hard as we could through the waves. The water was clear and deep, a disorientating world of blue. My mask was fogging, my lungs were burning, and I was falling behind the group. Suddenly the swimmers right in front of me stopped. As I looked up, I saw three massive shadows appear on the edge of visibility.
My heart was pounding as these shapes came into form. I fumbled with my camera and took some water down my snorkel as three juvenile humpback whales approached and swam right past us. It was exhilarating and over in a few seconds. My wife and I exchanged knowing glances, “How amazing was that?”
Despite our elation at finally realizing our dream of swimming with whales in the wild, there was a new concern coming over me. Would I be able to photograph these things?
This was my first real experience shooting underwater and there were a lot of challenges. I grew up in Colorado and live in Montana, I have had almost no experience swimming in the open ocean. I had realistic expectations that I would not suddenly be shooting on the level of National Geographic underwater photographers, but maybe I had still underestimated just how hard this was going to be.
Our next several whale encounters went much the same way. A mad scramble to get geared up and jump out of the boat, followed by a full on sprint through the water. Most of the time we would arrive on scene just as the whales slowly drifted away.
To make things more exciting, the whales could care less about the waves or wind on the surface, so often we would find them on the windy side of the island which meant we were swimming through 8-10 foot swells.
On top of all of this, I was using an underwater camera housing that despite weeks of practice, still felt foreign to me. My controls were in different spots, the focusing was challenging, it was hard to see what I was shooting, and it was a huge, buoyant weight to drag around. This is all to say, nothing about photographing whales underwater came naturally to me.
I was photographing from a perspective I haven’t felt in a few years, the feeling of being a total beginner. Being a beginner in a creative field can be a frustrating endeavor. You want to create work similar to those you look up to, but it takes time and experience to rise to those levels. At the same time, there is something really inspiring about being a beginner and coming into something new.
One of the aspects I love about photography is the unlimited capacity for growth. There are so many ways to approach photography that there is always learning to be done.
Like any creative outlet, the way we photograph can become expected and it can be easy to fall into a rut. Often times I find myself shooting similar compositions and situations because I know they “work”. Despite creating solid work, it can feel like I am stuck because I am not pushing my creative boundaries and trying new and exciting things.
I have always felt that the best way to break out of one of these creative ruts is to try something new. When I was starting out, I was really drawn to the “near-far” wide angle composition in landscape photography. I spent a lot of time looking for and shooting this type of shot.
Eventually one of my professors told me my work was all starting to look the same. It wasn’t a compliment. He encouraged me to try to shoot with a different lens. I had the wide angle composition in my tool belt, it was time to add to my bag of tricks.
After I concentrated on shooting tighter, more intimate scenes, I found that my sense of composition had improved and my ability to put together wide angle shots had also improved. That lesson has always stuck with me and has really helped me to continue to grow as a photographer.
Feeling like a beginner is a great thing. It can be intimidating, but it means you are challenging yourself and that is the way we get better. It is easy to fall into the trap of shooting only what you are comfortable with. I try not to let myself get stuck doing what I always do.
When I am creatively stagnant, not only am I not creating my best work, but I find myself getting bored going through the motions. Trying something new, something I am not good at, is always a good way to break through those issue. This can be as simple as using a different lens, trying a new technique, shooting a different type of subject, or in my case, taking my camera underwater.
A few days into our whale adventure, I was starting to get into a rhythm of shooting underwater. I was quickly learning from my early mistakes and started to feel (slightly) more comfortable.
We eventually had an encounter with a mother and calf who were interested in interacting with us. The calf came to the surface over and over. It swam by at close range, making eye contact, splashing and rolling on the surface mere feet from us. It was one of the most incredible wildlife encounters I have ever had.
I left that trip feeling energized and inspired. Not only did I want to do more underwater work, but I found myself motivated for my normal photography as well. Sometimes forcing yourself to become a beginner again helps you understand what drew you to photography in the first place.
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