Continued from the previous post...
There that's done, I thought, ready to shoot! I grasped the camera body to raise it to my eye and pull the trigger on all that I had cobbled together to get the money shot; the idea, the trip, the taxi, the money, the phone call, the charter, the door, the fear and the courage. All those hurdles and many more, negotiated and boiled down to this one single moment. Click. I hit the film winder button.
The mechanical sound of a fresh roll of new film spooling itself into its canister inside the camera body with not one single exposure recorded on it sent a cold chill though me. How could I be so stupid!
Just then the pilot turned to me assuming I had gotten the shot I wanted and asked "so where to now?" “Home", came my disappointed reply, trying to hide my frustration and sorrow brought about by my clumsy and errant, if not unprofessional photography fingers.
The best I could do now was marvel at the beautiful early evening aerial view of Cairns by the water, as the last of my flying dollars burnt up in the combustion chambers of that little piston prop engine.
The next day I flew back to Brisbane on a shiny red Virgin Blue 737, and as we departed Cairns I saw through the tiny portal of the R2 door the exact lay of the land that I had wanted to record with photos the previous day, I quickly jotted down a paper and pen drawing of it which later became the basis for the painting that would be reproduced as my first ever Limited Edition print - a Tropical Temptress. ✈️🎨