Where It All Began: Part 1 - Interning
2012
I first started working in Kenya in 2012. I was 18, lanky, awkward and had just left school with my dreams of being a cricketer ruined - by not being very good at cricket. But, having just left school I was somehow offered the chance to intern at Governors' Camp Collection - one of Kenya's original safari operators and creator of its first tented camp in the Maasai Mara, a world renowned game reserve.
My jobs were largely centred around cleaning shower heads, stock checks for the spare parts of over 50 Land Rovers, stock checks for the gift shop, stock checks for the bar and stock checks for the stock lists - as well as professionally talking nonsense at guests in the bar each evening - but in return I was given a little one room cottage in this wild paradise and told I could get out on safari (by road or by air) as often as was possible and start taking photos.
Blagging It
To get out on safari I had to find a group of guests happy to have a straggler in the back of their safari jeep - a plus one on their expensive, luxury holiday effectively. Which meant I spent my many evenings in the bar, a Tusker beer in hand, cigarette in the other, trying to talk myself in to the backs of jeeps for the following morning, promising to swap photo tips in exchange for a free ride.
So much, if not all of what I was doing was trial and error - so the only tip I could honestly offer was how to turn a camera on. Social media was in its infancy and while I expect there were thousands of YouTube videos that could have helped me out, I had questionable wifi and no desire to go down that rabbit hole. So I pressed as many buttons as I could and tried to work out what effect doing so had on my images.
Looking back now I realise I was starting to understand the impact of aperture, shutter speed and ISO on an image - the three main technical components involved - but more importantly I was establishing a style. Working out the kind of image I liked to take and, equally relevant, those I did not. Thankfully I was doing this in the digital era and my results - and therefore learning - were instant. But I knew I needed help from someone that knew a lot more than I did (which at that point, was basically anybody).
You Don't Know What You're Doing
One evening I returned to camp having just seen a pride of lions share a kill with a clan of hyena - Something very few people ever get to see. Nothing I had taken at the scene came close to doing it justice and, venting to the team in reception about how terrible my photos still were, they told me an Italian photographer who said he worked for National Geographic was staying in camp. I was still only 18, covered in acne and lankier than a baby giraffe, but keener than a hyena at an all you can eat buffet. That said I was shy and a little awkward when it came to asking for help, so throughout his stay I was too embarrassed to approach him. After only three days his shoot wrapped up and he was checking out as I was in reception. I opened my mouth to ask for help and instead asked merely if he had had a good stay. “Yes. It was good.” Did you get all the shots you needed? “Yes, of course.” Great. Good chat.
He paid, got in the car and left and it was only then that I finally got myself in to second gear.
I ran round the back of reception, following a short cut past laundry and then the kitchens that I knew would intercept him on the way out of camp and, arriving at a bend in the track a second before his vehicle signalled his driver guide to stop.
The photographer looked at me and I think assumed he must have left something behind, but seeing I carried nothing with me looked at me puzzled.
“Sorry”, I puffed, “Do you think maybe I could come out on safari with you one day to learn from you a little? Would that be possible? Please?” I wanted to add “almighty god of photography” but thought best not.
He looked at me and his only question was, “what camera mode do you shoot in?”
I had no idea what the answer was - as I had no clue what this question meant. There were camera modes? I thought it was just on or off!
“Ummm, M?” I squeaked, the inflexion at the end of my sentence ensuring it was painfully obvious I was asking if this answer was even close to right or if I was offensively wrong.
It turns out I may as well have asked this Italian if he liked pineapple on his pizza as he simply said “I do not work with someone who does not know what they shoot”, and instructed the driver to carry on, leaving me - a little disgruntled - in his dust.
Can I Do This Forever?
I now know that “M” on my old Nikon D40 meant “manual”, which was not in fact a wrong answer to his frankly irrelevant question. If anything it requires the most knowledge as you have to input all the settings for the camera as opposed to letting the camera do it for you - a bit like starting PacMan on the fastest level - but I did not know this at the time.
So Mr. National Geographic went on his way and my spindly little legs carried me back through the kitchens, past the laundry department and back to my spot in the back of reception, waiting for the next big shot to come along.
It turns out I did not have to wait very long.
One of the best things about working at Governors’ in those days was that Jonathan and Angie Scott had a cottage there, right next door to mine. They had used it throughout their BBC Big Cat Diaries days and were still known to come down from Nairobi for long weekends or for small jobs here and there.
Having grown up on those TV shows and frankly been inspired to come to the Maasai Mara off the back of them, I was pretty excited about this.
Throughout my three month internship though, they never came down. I was fairly gutted about this so I emailed the CEO and asked if I could come back again next year? “Absolutely”, came the reply, “See you in 2013.” YES!
It's Expensive Working For Free
I nipped back home to spend a summer coaching cricket to guys that I hoped would have a far better chance at playing professionally than I did (turns out one actually did) and then jumped on a plane back to Kenya.
I had a new camera (thanks to eternally supportive parents), a tiny amount of much needed savings that allowed me to keep working for free, and more importantly, a guide on how to actually use this new camera. No more stuttering “ummm, M” for me next time I was asked what mode I shot in. My pictures were by no means better for the new camera - learnt that one the expensive way a few more times subsequently - but I was still really enjoying photography and utterly addicted to life on safari, so I was starting to ponder how I might turn this captivating hobby in to a career.
You Definitely Should Meet Your Heroes
I was getting to the half way point of my stint when my 5.45am alarm went off for the 45th time in a row and I opened my cottage curtain (singular, one window). Where I was usually met with a wall of black there was a large, rectangular amber light about 20 meters in front of me. I stared at it and it stared right back. There had never been a light there before, why was there one there now?
I gave it little thought as I had to be in the passenger seat of one of my favourite guides vehicles by 5.57am in time for guests to arrive three minutes later, so started brushing my teeth. It was not until I’d counted to 30 Mississippi’s in my desperately-in-need-of-caffeine-head that I excitedly spat out my toothpaste and realised that the light was coming from the Scott’s cottage, they must be in the Mara. YES!
As it transpired we had a quiet morning on safari but I told the two French guests “hey, don’t worry, the main attraction is back in camp, you get to meet Jonathan and Angie, you don’t need lions this morning.” Turns out they did and they complained to Duncan about the lack of sightings and the babbling Englishman in the front of the car, but to be honest, I could probably have minded more!
We made it back to camp for a late breakfast (days in camp for guests went; safari, breakfast, nap, lunch, safari, drinks, dinner - repeat tomorrow) and having bid bonne voyage to madame et monsieur I sat down at an empty staff table as all my colleagues had real jobs in camp and hat eaten hours ago.
In a constantly failing bid to cure ‘sklegs’ (skinny legs) I grabbed my usual omelette, four sausages, pile of bacon and potato cakes from the breakfast station and poured a coffee. As I did someone pulled out the chair next to me and asked if anyone was sitting there? “No”, I replied looking up and, realising it was the Scotts, suddenly had to try very hard not to pour coffee all over the table.
Don't panic, I thought, be a gown up and start a conversation with these guys. You've got this! You know what camera mode you shoot now and if asked can even name the others three. The big time awaits.
I introduced myself, said I loved photography and In an instant they undid all the scarring left behind by Mr. Italy as Jonathan answered as manyquestions I had about photography, safaris and what they were up to in the Mara.
I finally got round to what I really wanted to know and asked him how I might be able to do what he did one day? He suggested looking at a university course he had just guest lectured on back in England - ‘Marine and Natural History Photography’. I looked it up after breakfast, saw it was a three year course in Cornwall, thought that looked quite fun and applied.
A few weeks later I was offered an interview, which I did on the phone from my cottage - the only question I can remember was when I was asked if I would be okay in quite a remote part of the world - I paused, looked in one direction and saw nothing but grass for two miles, looked in another and saw one elephant and a couple of zebra under a tree and replied “yeah, I reckon I might you know.”
