Crab Fishing #1
This photograph wasn’t supposed to be the hero. It was an outtake—one of those in-between moments you catch while adjusting a lens or wiping salt spray off your camera. But sometimes, those are the frames that stick with you.
I shot this while working a commercial job, documenting crab fishermen along the coast of Queensland. It’s a gritty kind of work—early starts, busted knuckles, and tides that don’t care whether you’re ready or not. These blokes haul in traps by hand, sort through mud crabs with practiced fingers, and work with a rhythm honed by years on the water.
The air smelled of salt and diesel. The boat pitched and groaned. And somewhere between the cast nets and crab pots, I caught this frame—a quiet moment in the chaos.
There’s a kind of beauty in that hard-earned life. It doesn’t dress itself up. It doesn’t ask to be admired. But it deserves to be remembered.
This print is just that—a memory. A still from the margins that says more than the brief ever asked for.
This photograph wasn’t supposed to be the hero. It was an outtake—one of those in-between moments you catch while adjusting a lens or wiping salt spray off your camera. But sometimes, those are the frames that stick with you.
I shot this while working a commercial job, documenting crab fishermen along the coast of Queensland. It’s a gritty kind of work—early starts, busted knuckles, and tides that don’t care whether you’re ready or not. These blokes haul in traps by hand, sort through mud crabs with practiced fingers, and work with a rhythm honed by years on the water.
The air smelled of salt and diesel. The boat pitched and groaned. And somewhere between the cast nets and crab pots, I caught this frame—a quiet moment in the chaos.
There’s a kind of beauty in that hard-earned life. It doesn’t dress itself up. It doesn’t ask to be admired. But it deserves to be remembered.
This print is just that—a memory. A still from the margins that says more than the brief ever asked for.
This photograph wasn’t supposed to be the hero. It was an outtake—one of those in-between moments you catch while adjusting a lens or wiping salt spray off your camera. But sometimes, those are the frames that stick with you.
I shot this while working a commercial job, documenting crab fishermen along the coast of Queensland. It’s a gritty kind of work—early starts, busted knuckles, and tides that don’t care whether you’re ready or not. These blokes haul in traps by hand, sort through mud crabs with practiced fingers, and work with a rhythm honed by years on the water.
The air smelled of salt and diesel. The boat pitched and groaned. And somewhere between the cast nets and crab pots, I caught this frame—a quiet moment in the chaos.
There’s a kind of beauty in that hard-earned life. It doesn’t dress itself up. It doesn’t ask to be admired. But it deserves to be remembered.
This print is just that—a memory. A still from the margins that says more than the brief ever asked for.