I'd never really heard of French Pass until I found myself being driven along one of its ridges amidst a raging storm. The first of the year to be exact. It was almost like the weather gods wanted to start the year off with something to remember, and boy oh boy did they pull that one off.
The Cook Straight crossing was interesting to say the least. A cross shore breeze of 50 knots or so added excitement to our mornings nautical adventure. As were were amongst the howling winds, nestled inside a huge tub of steel, our perception of our surrounds were visually restricted, yet easily felt in many other ways.
The feeling of having our feet back on steady ground was one of joy, yet this wasn't set to last. This ridge, the gateway into French Pass, it held different ideas for our passing. For the most part, our vision was as restricted as it was out on the straight, yet every now and then, out it popped.
The full force of the storm parting ways and allowing us to really see. The beauty that lay below, blanketed beneath the tumultuous skies. The light bouncing off countless water molecules as they were bullied around the bays by the tireless wind.
Signed Limited Edition of 10
Printed on Hahnemühle Photo Rag Matt 308gsm
1000mm x 667mm