Frames of Mind

The thrill of the Wiki Wiki swell run to Honolua Bay with Cliff Kapono.

Light / Dark

Cliff Kapono asked me if I wanted to do a last-minute trip over to Maui to photograph a swell at Honolua Bay. He’s one of my favorite people to shoot with because he never brings any pressure or expectations. So immediately I said yes—but only if I could leave my digital equipment at home and bring my old film cameras instead.

Surf photography is purely a passion for me, and I find the challenge of working with a limited amount of film way more fun through every step of the process. Whenever I have a digital camera in my hands, I suddenly feel that I have to capture every moment of every wave, and I can easily shoot 50 photos per wave.

With a film camera, it’s completely the opposite experience. I wait for the good waves to come through, and I’m more focused on photographing the people I’m traveling with. I’ll only shoot a couple frames per wave, even at the risk of missing good ones, in order to make the film last. That forces me to have more heightened attention to my surroundings, which is way more enjoyable and, in the end, often produces better results.

The cameras I put in my bag were a medium-format Seagull, which I love traveling with because it’s super light, and a Nikon F100, which I can fit into my water housing if I jam some socks and foam inside to fit it securely. They aren’t the most feature-rich cameras, but I love that you don’t need the most expensive equipment to produce great images. I also like the challenge that comes with committing to whatever speed of film you have loaded at that moment.

I live on Oahu, and I’ve been going over to Maui for Honolua since high school, so I know how fickle it can be. Most times I’ve gone, it turned out to be 1 to 2 foot, so I kept my expectations for this swell in check.

We flew in the day before the waves came up, then drove out to Honolua early in the 

morning and got a really good spot perched on the cliff before first light. The plan was to surf and shoot until sundown. The swell was just arriving from the north, and the conditions looked a little bit slow and windblown as the sun was coming up. The lineup was covered in morning shadows.

Cliff paddled out on a 10’10” single-fin glider, while I hiked around looking for different angles to shoot from—the top of the bay, across the bay, the top of the cliffs. It’s one of the most amazing places to shoot. The shape of the bay provides so much natural beauty in the foreground and background, and the best place to position yourself changes dramatically throughout the day.

By midday it was super hot, so I loaded my water housing and swam into the lineup. The surf started getting really good in the afternoon—the swell picked up, and the conditions got clean and clear.

That late session was the best I’ve ever seen Honolua in person. Cliff was riding a 5’10” twin pin, and even though it was crowded, he was super patient, waiting for good waves to come to him and making the most of them. Compared to shooting from the water at Pipe or Waimea, there was barely any current to fight to stay in position, and I could relax between sets. In the lineup, you get the feeling of being in this amazing natural amphitheater, and I really wanted to capture the kinds of images that got me excited to surf there as a kid: a nice, open tube shot with the cliffs all lit up in the background. The day reminded me of some of the trips over to Maui from my childhood. The images aren’t in the tack-sharp HD resolution you’d want for sequences of guys doing airs, but they go well with the way that Cliff surfs and the boards he rides, and it’s the kind of surfing that I find most inspiring.

I think I only shot five rolls of film, and every single one of the images was so exciting to look at. 

There weren’t a bunch of throwaways to sift through, and that makes the great ones feel all the more rewarding. There’s no relying on the metadata to fill in your recollection. The photos themselves—and your memory—are all you have.