The Surfer’s Journal is proudly reader-supported since 1992. We rely on membership rather than advertising to remain commercially quiet. Become a member below and gain access to every article ever published along with many other TSJ member-only benefits.
Create a free account to access three complimentary articles, or become a member to unlock all editorial and become a supporter of independent surf journalism.
Subscribers to The Surfer’s Journal get access to all our online content as well as the TSJ archive. Become a member to unlock all editorial and become a supporter of independent surf journalism.
The high risk, high reward of Zak Noyle’s water photography.
Words by Jeff Mull | Photos and captions by Zak Noyle
Portfolio
Light / Dark
Waimea Bay, February 25, 2016: The Eddie. Dawn had just broken on the North Shore, illuminating a massive swell sweeping through Hawaii’s outer reefs. A cloud of ocean spray hung in the morning air. In just a few hours, all hell would break loose in a display of bravado and terror.
For spectators, the 2016 Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational was one for the books. But no one, with the exception of the surfers competing, had the vantage point of photographer Zak Noyle. With nothing more than a pair of swim fins, a camera, and testicular fortitude, Noyle chronicled the carnage by swimming into the lineup of Code Black Waimea. When shit went down, and it did, he was prepared—as best anyone can be when staring down a closed-out lineup at the Bay.
The images he captured while swimming proved to be jaw-droppingly, death-defyingly classic Noyle: peak moments, shot as close to the action as humanly possible. “For me,” he recalls, “being asked to be the water photographer for the event was the biggest honor of my life, hands down. To be involved in an event that honors the legacy of one Hawaii’s most respected watermen means so much to me. It was gnarly swimming out there, for sure, but I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself and I think that’s what it’s all about.”
As the son of one of Hawaii’s most successful commercial photographers, Noyle relished an idyllic upbringing in Honolulu. When he wasn’t failing photography classes at Punahou School (true story), he could be found, like so many others, cruising at Sandy Beach. It was here, along this stretch of neck-snapping coastline in southeastern Honolulu, that Noyle’s passion for photography began to blossom.
“There’s something about the light at Sandy’s,” he says, “and the way that the wave stacks onto nearly dry sand that’s addictive. Everybody in Town loves Sandy’s. I don’t think you can spend a lot of time there and not walk away without being impressed by the beauty of the place. I think being immersed in that lineup really did help open my eyes to shooting water photography. It also taught me how to take a beating. Sandy’s will clean you out everytime, guaranteed.”
In the months following his high school graduation, Noyle had a lens practically welded to his hand. An adept swimmer, he felt comfortable in impact zones, dodging the mountains of water cascading overhead and the reef below, all the while never losing sight of his subject. Eventually, he moved on to shooting the harrowing lineup at Pipeline, often pushing for deeper, more extreme angles, and thus building on the lineage of water photography at the world’s deadliest wave.
Soon, photo editors from mainland surf publications began to take notice. Finding a photographer able to hold his composure in life-threatening situations isn’t easy—and the kid was capturing the goods. First, Transworld picked him up. Not long afterward, he moved on to Surfer magazine, producing numerous covers, spreads, and features.
As Noyle’s career as a water photographer grew, so too did the rise of social media. Although then in its infancy, platforms like Instagram opened a route for Noyle’s work to be broadcast to the mainstream, outside of surfing. Suddenly, his profile was bubbling over with followers and his awe-inspiring body of work quite literally went viral. Big clients, like Apple, came calling.
“I’ve been lucky enough in my career to be in the right spot at the right time,” Noyle says. “But you don’t get to that spot without working for it. I love being able to connect with my followers. It wasn’t that long ago, really, that we had to wait 30 or 40 days from when the photo was shot to see it in a mag. Now, I can shoot it on my phone and upload it from the water, 30 or 40 seconds after I take it.”
The man’s found his niche: a place somewhere between the falling lip and the reef, where documenting elemental moments and high-risk environments combines with Silicon Age technology.
[Feature image: Nathan Fletcher, Pipeline. Shooting in the water at heavy waves, especially at Pipeline, can be really dangerous. Getting stuck inside of a closeout, or going over the falls, will put you in a load of trouble because the waves are so powerful—it’s a top to bottom thrashing. Plus the reef is right there. I do my best to not let those things happen, though sometimes it’s unavoidable. But this is my job and I’m not going to compromise anything for the shot.]