I had first just tagged this shot as "breaking wave," but there's a lot more going on, I think.
I love the action, of course, with the surfer on the right looking back, probably wondering what the diver (that's me) thinks he's doing. I wondered if he thought I was going to get beat. The surfer on the left, of course, is just thinking about himself, duck-diving and avoiding the curl above him.
Myself? Divers duck under, you know, or ride the surge.
I also like the bumpiness and the shine coming off different parts of the wave, from the frothy spray to the sun rays bouncing back at the camera. That lumpiness, though, is just too cool for words for me.
Note: all the blather here is about the wave and the action, not about my photography. I just pushed a button. Getting into that place, that position in the zone, is the fun of it all.
I love getting beat by waves, too. I'm calculating if I can really hit the water again this weekend, what with all the grading I need to be doing. And yet . . . to get salty-wet.
By the way, I love duck-diving, by definition.
When I was swimming in--and with the camera's memory card full up--there was a boogie-boarder who just owned the spot. She knew every curl and surge and rock and rhythm, and she'd ride right up to the breakwater and would just pull out of the wave she'd been riding before splatting, as casual as you please. When the next biggish wave came in, she just set herself and somehow avoided getting plastered. Obviously, local knowledge and water-time there. It was a pleasure to watch her work the waves.
I was sorry I couldn't take photos. Next time.
