Picture This

You’ve been with your surfer boyfriend/hubby for a while now and because you’re a dedicated surf widow you’ve mastered the art of all things surf related, namely; learning surf moves, surviving camping trips up the coast, deciphering surf moves and packing for contests.

I’m sure you’re at the point now where you’re actually enjoying the perks of being a surfer’s girlfriend, so much so, you’ll sit through whole surf movies without going glassy eyed and you’ll find yourself picking up the latest issue of South Africa’s most loved surfing magazine without reaching for your copy of Elle first.

This happened to me too. But just as I was getting used to being a surfer’s girlfriend, my boyfriend decided to become a surf photographer. Which, let me tell you, adds a whole new spin to our relationship. I’m still in survival mode on this one so read and decide for yourself if this is a side of the surfing lifestyle that you can handle.

So your boyfriend/husband wants to be a surf photographer?

At first you’re thinking, how does this affect me and as far as you can see it sounds epic because;

1. He’s following his passion. Generation Y is all about passions and being arty farty, following your heart and generally being as hipster as possible.
2. He’s totally going to be the next Clark Little in like a week because no one will be taking photos like he will because he's uber talented and has a way expensive camera.
3. He can take photos of me while I lie on the beach, “I’m totes going to be discovered by Billabong and become a bikini model in no time.”

Let’s break it down shall we;

You’ve been watching way too many well produced surf movies, with your other half lounging next to you, salivating at the world of opportunities presented through a (insert expensive brand name) camera lens muttering that “he could do that too if ..”

When I met Ian eight years ago, he was a surf shop assistant and said he enjoyed taking photographs.

I only caught on much later that this was his way of saying to me, “I will never have a real job”.  Back then Ian used something called ‘film’ to take pictures. For those of you who were born with camera phones, it’s a little rolletjie of photographic paper that the camera imprints a negative image onto, this roll is farking expensive to process and very difficult to work with because there’s no such thing as “automatic settings” or “Instagram filters”, you’ve got to ‘learn’ how to make that happen for instance a roll of film only has 24-36 exposures on it meaning there’s only so many chances to get that shot AND there’s no such thing as a ‘preview’ screen to check if your settings are correct.

Anyway, by the time I’d met Ian he had already made his way to Canary Islands (a destination I could not quite bring myself to visit with him. Too many rocks, not enough beach and the fact that he told rats had to introduced to the island put me off a little bit) once before where he took some incredible photos (considering the ancient-ness of his camera, this took some skill) and when he returned to South Africa, sold those photos to a well-known European surfing magazine, along with an article he had penned. The idea was born.

Fast forward four years and after moving 7 times, because freelancing doesn’t afford you any kind of security, such as signing leases longer than six months, we finally, finally made it to our ‘dream for right now’ flat where we plan to stay for a WHOLE year.

Living with a photographer has had its perks … being invited to the occasional cool surf industry jols, surf movie premieres, the odd ‘free’ merchandise, a little bit of local travelling but best of all meeting those industry heavy weights, namely Jordy Smith, Magazine Editors, great surf writers, shapers, photographers, film makers and just generally some really, really cool, inspiring people.

But the truth is that isn’t even 5% of the time.

99.99% percent of our days are filled with groms. Groms with skills, obviously. Investing time and energy into their talents, getting to know them, their parents, their lives, working around their work, school and college schedules/attitudes/neuroses. That’s what Ian does day in, day out. Drive, shoot, edit, send-off images, search for new locations, awesome angles, fresh perspectives, liaise with surfers, mom’s, brand managers, magazine and online editors and PRAY they pick your shot.  

These groms are not only your bread and butter but they become your extended family and friends, walking a fine line between business and pleasure is exhausting and risky.

My days, however, have been spent moving into our “dream for right now” flat and the anguish of having to fill all our laanie new cupboard space with crappy old surf gear.

Our stunning new patio (with a view to die for) is littered with surf paraphernalia. Like a graveyard for severed wetsuits limbs, salt preserved undies, time capsule board bags forever zippered shut from melted wax and sand. Ancient body boards with what looks like acne, raggedy old towels, a collection of multi coloured fins with no partners and experimental camera housings in different stages of completion.

All.  Covered.  In.  Sand.

That’s the reality of picking your ‘dream job’ over the every-day job. It’s still hard work, made harder by the burgeoning mass of wannabe photographers, rich kids with all the best gear that their mommies and daddies bought them.

At the age of 30, Ian is only just gaining the credit he deserves thanks to years of developing an excellent rapport with editors on all platforms, securing him a standing in an already crowded line of work. It will take many more years to become the surf media’s go-to-guy.

In the meantime, here are a few tips on how to survive being surf photographer widow …

1. Never allow him to take a photo of you with a fish-eye lens. You may never recover from the disfigured image of your thighs inflating beyond your imagination and resurrecting any body issues you may or may not have.
2. Do not volunteer your vehicle for surf missions or as a grom-mobile. Your dear jammie will be encrusted with old pie remnants, go mouldy from soggy wetsuits and all your seats will be wax stained for life.
3. Under no circumstance should you allow a camera housing building business to take form on your patio. It will become an obstacle course of PVC piping, rubber and just about every surface will be splattered in resin and fibreglass.
4. When one’s boyfriend is in “editing-mode” he should come with a ‘do not disturb’ sign. They can become rather fixated on this part of the process especially when working on a deadline.
5. Always offer encouragement and honesty when he shows you his shots, he will really value your input and, at the end of the day, your opinion matters to him.