Taken By A Rogue Wave
The Twelve Apostles, Port Campbell National Park, Victoria (Fujifilm X-T4: f/8, 22 secs, ISO 250, 24mm, Kase circular polariser and ND64 (6 stop) filter).
Disbelief. Disappointment. Anger. Anxiety. Relief. These were my emotions in the minutes, hours and days after dragging my tripod and camera out of the water at Gibson Beach, Port Campbell, Victoria.
I’d spent the early hours of the morning photographing along the Great Ocean Road at Port Campbell National Park. It was only my second time there with my Fujifilm X-T4, and I’d been hoping for a gorgeous sunrise, particularly to capture the Twelve Apostles from a couple of vantage points at the lookout. Walking away with some coveted photos would have also made me feel better about Cris and Ollie waking up at an unruly hour and keeping me company on the 1.5 hour drive in darkness from Apollo Bay, just so that I could take my sunrise shots. But that wasn’t to be.
It wasn't a very fruitful morning. Unexpectedly thick cloud cover made for a very underwhelming sunrise and ongoing construction works at the Twelve Apostles lookout meant that one of the views that I really wanted to capture (looking left towards Gog and Magog at Gibson Beach) was not possible. After shooting there for about an hour, I knew that I’d have to come back another time (hopefully with third timer’s luck), and ploughed onwards to Loch Ard Gorge. By that time, the sun had fully risen and while it was so beautiful and peaceful to be at Loch Ard Gorge at that time of morning, the average conditions left me with some rather ordinary photos.
Before heading back to Apollo Bay, I’d made a last minute decision to stop by Gibson Beach. Given the morning I’d had, by the time I’d arrived at the Gibson Steps carpark, I was frustrated. I hadn’t initially planned to stop there as I’d taken photos from the Gibson Steps lookout earlier that morning (after following the wrong path from the Twelve Apostles lookout), and I’d also taken photos of Gog from the beach in similar conditions last year. But annoyed with my lack-lustre photos, I thought I’d try some long exposure shots.
I’d made my way down the Gibson Steps and after walking back and forth a short while, had found a good angle where I could see both Gog and Magog. Great, I’d thought, I haven’t shot this composition before. Conscious of the strong swells from the incoming high tide, I was mindful of keeping dry and made sure that I was standing well clear of the waterline etched in the sand by the waves that morning. But moments after I’d plonked my tripod into the sand, a strong wave landed ashore and I was left ankle-deep in water. Just my luck. With drenched shoes and a wet tripod, I moved backwards about a metre. Surely, I’d thought, the waves won’t come in this high and I’ll be fine.
Working quickly, I’d changed my lenses and set up my camera on the tripod – all the while keeping an eye on the waves coming in. With my frame set, I’d turned away to grab the remote shutter release from my bag, when out of nowhere, a rogue wave came crashing in. I think I heard it before I saw it. Grabbing my bag from the sand, I had a split second to stumble back a few steps. But I was too late. Water gushed past me, shin-high. I watched in slow motion as my tripod started sinking into the sand, and then topple over after losing its balance against the strong outgoing current. My camera and lens were buried in the sand and water, and my tripod was being pulled out towards the ocean. Running forward, I managed to grab a tripod leg and drag it out of the water. With my camera and lens covered in sand and drenched in seawater, my photo shoot at Gibson Beach was over before it even started. Defeated and deflated, I knew I had to will my sorry self up the Gibson Steps and back to the car as quickly as possible so that I could assess the damage. Arriving back at the car, I was still trying to process what had happened and what the consequences could be. At least Cris was able to have a chuckle when he saw how dishevelled I was. So began my roller coaster of emotions.
Disbelief – initially, I couldn’t believe that I’d been unlucky enough to be hit by a rogue wave and that it came onshore as far in as it did. I couldn’t believe that I was staring at my camera and lens, face down in the water. And I wanted to believe that my trusty camera and lens would escape unscathed – after all, both were weather sealed, right?
Disappointment – that was how I felt about barely getting a chance to set up, let alone take a photo, before being forced to pack up and head off. It was also how I felt after accepting that I could only take photos with my phone for the remainder of my holiday with Cris and Ollie. Where was the fun it that?!
Anger – I was angry about a lot of things (yes, some were unreasonable): deciding to stop by Gibson Beach when I should have just kept going; mother nature for sending that bloody wave my way (what had I done to deserve that?!); not grabbing my tripod and protecting my gear when I was stumbling backwards; and not getting insurance to cover my portable contents.
Anxiety – my anger turned to anxiety as it dawned on me that I may have lost all my photos on my SD card, as every single camera port, opening, gap and crevice had seawater and sand in it. I knew enough about the importance of backing up my photos during or after every shoot, I just didn’t think that anything bad would ever happen to me. And of course, I was (and still am) anxious about the extent of the damage sustained and whether my camera and telephoto lens can be repaired. I’ve grown awfully fond of my Fujifilm X-T4 in the short time I’ve had it, and was just beginning to use the XF 50-140mm lens more. I'd definitely miss having to part with them.
Relief – inserting my SD card into my desktop upon returning home and seeing my files load in Capture One brought such relief. Most of my photos had been backed up, but my shots from the previous few days had not been, and I’d feared I’d have nothing for my efforts at Beauchamp Falls, Hopetoun Falls and the Californian Redwoods at Beech Forest. Luckily, SD cards are built fairly hardy.
It was clear that my lens was shot. But a part of me was wishful that by cleaning my camera and allowing it to air dry for a few days, it’d be back to normal. Of course, there was probably no chance of this happening as salt water can be so damaging and corrosive. The power button is locked or stuck and there’s nothing I can do to turn it on. The camera and lens will soon be in a box and on their way to the Fujifilm service centre in Sydney. I’m not sure what I’ll do about my camera situation for my upcoming trip to Tasmania – I’ll keep you all posted, so be sure to check back in!
A view of Gog from the Gibston Steps Lookout before sunrise. Taken before my camera would later be decommissioned on the beach below.
A view to the east, from the Gibson Steps Lookout. If it weren’t for those thick low-level clouds, sunrise would have been amazing here.
One of the last images taken with my Fujifilm XF 50-140mm f2.8 lens. I was very much looking forward to using this lens more.
