An early misty morning training on the lake in the south of France.

April 2019, France

As the world was waking up around us, hard miles were already being laid down by the squad of athletes as they trained on a placid lake in southern rural France. Another perfect morning to be on the water, with barely a breath of wind to disturb it as the sun came up, gentle mists rising to catch the light as the day gradually warmed. Mist does a strange thing to the senses, notably reducing the visibility of distant objects, it also seems to attenuate certain sounds whilst suppressing others, thus slightly disorientating any directional ques. Out on the lake it was curiously peaceful, as I waited in position I could hear crews approaching from several hundred metres away, but it was only until they were within 100 metres could I see them, and from which direction, for them only to vanish moments later as they pushed past me.

This strange situation meant a great deal of build up as I twisted about trying to get any sense of which way the crews would be coming from and anticipate their position. I knew roughly where they might be but there was still an element of guesswork involved, then a sudden flurry of activity behind the camera to catch them as they merged into view. This shot is both a mix of timing and luck where all the elements seemed to line up perfectly for me; the strong backlighting enhancing the shapes and lines, the distant crew – all visible yet still obscured by the mist – adding the depth to the scene and the similar timing between them adds movement as a further layer. The crews flashed by and were swiftly swallowed by the fog once more, leaving nothing but the rhythmic sound of blades entering the water as they went.