Finding Opportunity Where it Lies
I headed to the Watch Hill lighthouse around sunset this evening hoping to get the opportunity to make some images of the fisherman that I knew would be there – fully outfitted surfcasters going for monster stripers. If I got lucky perhaps one of them would haul in a big one and I could get a picture of the triumph and make a portrait as well. I brought my mobile lighting solution should such an occasion arise. Upon entering the road to the light, however, I was stopped unexpectedly by the security guard who was guarding the entry. This was an unexpected obstacle as the older security guard that was usually there never had a problem letting vehicles pass at this late time and after the summer season had ended. I was told there were no longer any vehicles allowed down the road. After a brief attempt to revise said policy with what gregariousness I could muster I turned around and found a place to park. I grabbed my equipment and hot-stepped it down the long, winding road, past the security guard, past the stately summer mansions vacated by their owners, through the gate and finally made it to the point. By the time I had arrived all light had vanished and, while there were still fisherman arriving, and though I had my light kit, scoffed at the fact that I had missed what was sure to have been some great image-making opportunities while the sky was still glowing. I made a feeble attempt at practicing with a long lens and SB-900 flash and decided to head back up the road.
When I passed the security guard (who waved politely) on my way out the gate I did not feel compelled to return the gesture. It was he, after all, who had thwarted my attempt to make what was sure to be a monumental image. About ten steps past his truck I stopped in my tracks. Perhaps I could find an opportunity here. Returning to his truck I reintroduced myself, and asked if he and his girlfriend (who it seemed was keeping him company while he stood watch) would be willing to help make an image of the scene. They obliged. While setting up my equipment, and politely apologizing for my display of chagrin earlier, I learned that Andy had just started on the job the previous night. He didn’t know all the protocol of years past but was sure as heck not going to do anything to jeopardize his new job. Employment was hard to come by these days, and in his small town, just the other side of the breachway, there were certainly no opportunities; he was thankful to have found this one. Meghan, his girlfriend, could sit in his truck with him as he surveyed the comings and goings of the fishermen, returned greetings and waves from winter residents as they strolled the empty off-season sidewalks, and made sure the road to the lighthouse remained free of traffic.
I finally got set-up (sort of) and got off a couple shots. I neglected to realize I had stupidly left my EV at -1.3 which certainly didn’t help the noise level any, and though I used 1/2 CTO gels in the two flashes, failed to compensate for the fluorescent overhead that cast a long shadow of Andy into the hedge. Got a lot to work on from a photographic standpoint – that I know; but as I continue with that endeavor I am thankful for the lessons these types of interactions provide. Any time I can practice illuminating a story (both physically and metaphorically) and succeed at getting the subjects to feel comfortable in front of my lens is time well spent. Technical aptitude and fluency will hopefully come with practice.
Whether I would have been able to make any great images of a big catch or well-decked out angler had I not been stopped at the gate is uncertain. The opportunity to make images of fishermen is what lured me to the lighthouse this evening. The story of a young security guard trying to make his way in this world as best he can is what I landed.
Until next time – CSH
