The light surf lapped against my feet as I contemplated photographing a fisherman I could see about 1/2 mile out, casting his net into the surf from the knee-deep shallows of the warm Balinese waters.
The sunset in the distance had already begun, the oranges and reds fading into a blueish hue as the sun dipped well below the horizon. In my hand I held my Canon 5D with a wide-angle 24mm f1.4 lens attached to it.
As I waded chest high with my Camera held high over my head, I slowly drew nearer to the fisherman. The current was stronger than I first thought and I soon became increasingly aware that what I was attempting was actually quite dim. I had waded almost 100 metres out, each incoming wave splashing salt water into my face. Soon, the water became more and more shallow as the sand was replaced by a plateau of the volcanic rock.
Standing on the rock plateau next to the fisherman resembled that sharp feeling of agony when you step on a piece of LEGO by accident. It was excruciating. The fisherman, however, stood casually in the waves in bare feet, clutching his net and carried a yellow basket with an array of different creatures flapping and wriggling inside it as he moved. I asked his permission to take some photographs of him. He smiled with a hint of confusion and waited for the right time to cast his net.
Standing on the rock plateau next to the fisherman resembled that sharp feeling of agony when you step on a piece of LEGO by accident. It was excruciating. The fisherman, however, stood casually in the waves in bare feet, clutching his net and carried a yellow basket with an array of different creatures flapping and wriggling inside it as he moved. I asked his permission to take some photographs of him. He smiled with a hint of confusion and waited for the right time to cast his net.
I had my 24mm lens on which means I had to be around 0.5m away from the fisherman for him to fill the frame. While I hunted for a less painful shard of rock to stand on, the fisherman cast his net into the incoming surf. I missed this of course but as he pulled the net back towards him, I was presented with a more unique shot as he 'fished' his hand into the net, just below the surface, to inspect his potential catch - I raised my camera and took the shot.
I managed to reel off two more shots before the fisherman walked casually along the the rock plateau to another casting spot. On the verge of tears, I bravely began retreating to the beach, by which time the tide had come in, to the amusement of the on-looking beach-goers. I had to make a slight detour but managed to survive with my camera and my dignity intact.
I finally reached the beach and began picking the fragments of rock out of my feet - As I write this in Oxfordshire, UK I still have a little piece of that Balinese, igneous rock embedded in my right sole.
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