Acceptable Risk

Those whom have joined me on photo treks know that I am often not kind to my gear, and less kind to myself when it comes to composing a shot. So, it should be n...
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Those whom have joined me on photo treks know that I am often not kind to my gear, and less kind to myself when it comes to composing a shot. So, it should be no surprise that when I saw the scene at Renisfjara Beach near Vík, Iceland, I surveyed the scene, gathered some data while shooting a few shots, then zeroed in on the composition that I really wanted.

The surf was coming in as sets of eight, with numbers three and four being the strongest waves. The combination of crowd and weather made me decide that a minimalist composition between the basalt columns and sea foam was the best way to go. I knew my settings were good, so I waited for a lull, moved to my chosen spot, framed my shot, and settled in.

Armed with my waterproof @timberland hunting boots, my waterproof @blackdiamond snow pants, and a sharp eye, I remembered my rules of surf photography: never turn your back on the ocean, always expect a bigger wave, and two feet firmly planted is better than none.

Once the next set of waves rolled in, I started snapping. The third wave in, as predicted, was significantly larger than the first two, and made a decent shot. But the fourth wave, it was the largest of the day, and larger than I had anticipated. That's ryle number two. So I got my snap as the wave rolled in, saw it continuing to roll in as the water level quickly approached my camera. So, I grabbed my tripod, lifted the whole rig over my head, and dug my heels into the sand as the water reached mid thigh. After the wave rolled out, and number five showed to be much smaller, I dug out my feet, and walked inland, still bone dry underneath all my layers, and quite certain that I had my shot.
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