Sun rise on Hau Hin Beach, Thailand, after 2 months of lock down

Like many in the world, having been a virtual prisoner for months, stuck inside, deprived of fresh air and social contact, I was very pleased when travel restrictions were lifted in Thailand and I could leave Bangkok and travel to the beach for a couple of weeks. A sea breeze, sand between my toes, a warm sultry sea and the opportunity to take a few photos.

I also wanted to try out a new purchase, a Fujifilm GFX50R with the 45 F2.8 lens, the first time since the 1990’s when I used a Bronica SQ, I’ve had an opportunity to use a medium format camera.

I was based between the resorts of Cha Am and Hua Hin, approximately 230km from Bangkok, on a relatively quiet stretch of beach. The condo complex shared the beach with a couple of luxury hotels, which had few customers in the week but filled with families on the weekends. When the sun rose at 5.45am, the beach was empty, bar a couple fisherman casting their nets from the beach and at the far end of the beach small wooden fishing boats pushing off to fish for mackerel or returning to the beach after night fishing for squid.   

Thailand had already entered its rainy season, so storms were common as were overcast skies and on some days’ constant drizzle, so although I walked to the beach most days at daybreak hoping to see the sun rising from the sea and the waves and clouds turn red, many days were dull and overcast. Perseverance did reward me though with some beautiful mornings, relatively cool and clear, the sea and beach lagoons palettes of reds, yellows and blues, changing to an orange yellow glow as the sun climbed over the horizon. At 6.30am walkers and joggers appeared along the stretch of unmarked sand and ladies in flowing cotton practiced yoga on the tideline, their bare feet grounding their energy on wet sand. And as they stretched and pointed to the sun, assorted stray dogs walked up to them to see what all the fuss was about. 

I had planned to try and get photos of three separate subjects along the stretch of beach; colorful reflections at sunrise with fishing boats, shots at sunrise of the fisherman casting their nets and some shots during the day of some of the storms approaching the beach. 

I took a few of the fishermen but didn’t get a good shot of them casting. I shadowed an older man for 30 minutes; the technique was to stand just off the beach in a foot or so of water, watching for the shoals of small fish that cruise up and down the beach in the breaking waves, between 5 -20 meters offshore, casting the small round net into the path of the fish; weighted on its outer edge the net sinks in the shape of an umbrella around the fish and they get lodged in the mesh. But the morning was poor for the fishermen. He showed me his catch of six small fish, none longer than 5 inches long – not even enough for a small pot! He had caught them earlier before I arrived, so I didn’t see him cast once on that day! “Mai mee pla” he said – no fish. 

 Another beach fishermen used a long net, pegged near the beach stretching out 50 plus meters, he slowly looped the billowing net in a circle back to the shore, but the process of laying the net and drawing it in, which took around 40 minutes, resulted in just a few fish being caught. 

 The planned storm shots didn’t materialize either, although I did go to the beach in the afternoons and waited for the rain, but the shot I was looking for – a localized storm coming in from the sea in the shape of a mushroom cloud – I didn’t see. So I’ll roll this plan forward for my next visit in August.