Surf Photographer Connor Trimble on Life Behind the Lens

Angles. Connor Trimble knows how to find them. Photo: CT

The Inertia

“Being a surf photographer is this weird blend of being part athlete, part artist, part lunatic. You’re out there in heavy water with thousands of dollars of gear, risking your body to capture a moment that might only last a split second,” says Connor Trimble, an Ohio native who now lives in Hawaii. Trimble has spent the last 10 winters shooting the North Shore from the water — doing it all for the love of the ocean. 

We all enjoy the end product of surf content — sick clips, films, vlogs, and stunning photos. But like most consumers, we don’t always get to appreciate how those moments are made. To learn more about the process, I spoke with Trimble about his journey.

Making a living as a photographer isn’t easy. “There isn’t a lot of money in the surf world,” says Trimble, who also relies on other gigs. From influencer trips in Ireland and shooting lifestyle brands, to a project with Royal Caribbean and the biggest ship in the world, Trimble stays busy, often shooting from dusk til dawn. “Today I’m up at 7 a.m. and editing a short surf film on Luke Tema for Hurley called Propulsion, which is his transition from the junior team to the senior team after a crazy breakthrough year and making the QS,” says Trimble. “Then I fly to Maui tonight to follow Edo Tanas, last year’s Molokai to Oahu and Triple Crown foil race winner for F-ONE — a cinematic short film on his journey. Think, small budget Drive to Survive.”

When he’s not on the road, the day starts before it begins. “If there’s a Pipe swell, I clean my gear and oil it the night before and pack everything except for batteries. Then usually get up at around 5:30 a.m. and make the drive from Town to the North Shore to beat traffic,” says Trimble. Early bird gets the worm in the North Shore. 

Surf Photographer Connor Trimble on Life Behind the Lens

One of Connor’s favorites to shoot, Ivan Florence. Photo: CT

Upon arrival, he checks the waves from a bird’s eye view — long enough to burn through a drone battery — to survey the current, sand, and the angle the waves hit the reef. He shoots for up to 4 hours in the water, gets lunch at Pupukea grill, heads back for another few hours of shooting through sunset, then goes home and edits late into the night.

 “It’s an absolute grind for me when the waves are good, and this past season was absolutely incredible with how good it was, but I think I made the drive 40 times and it was brutal,” says Trimble. 

The etiquette for photographers in the lineup isn’t estranged from surfing. “Know your place. Period,” he says about Pipe. New guys stay in the back, and don’t swim into the bowl unless you know the rhythms of the lineup. “You’ll get a lot more respect if you hold your own and are respectful on the big days, but don’t rush the process. If someone’s in a better position or it’s clearly their moment, you respect that. And if someone gets worked, you check on them. It’s competitive but also collaborative in a weird way. Everyone’s trying to create something meaningful, but there’s an unspoken code of respect that keeps things flowing.” 

All of that, and then it’s time to actually capture a surfer in their element. Some surfers happen to sync well with shooters. For Trimble, Ivan Florence is way up there. “We naturally sync in the lineup because he likes to go for the waves that line up with where I like to be,” he says. “He’s got this calm confidence and effortless flow that’s so fun to shoot. He’s not trying to force anything, he’s just doing his thing, and it always translates beautifully on camera.” Other surfers are more elusive, “For whatever reason I really never line up with John John… which I’ve always thought was funny.”

Surf Photographer Connor Trimble on Life Behind the Lens

Insane photo of Mr. Kemper. But Connor got absolutely worked taking it. Photo: CT

Of course, there’s guts behind the glory too. Photographers navigate currents, duckdive with bulky equipment, read the surfers and the natural lighting. Or as Trimble puts it, “You’re constantly putting yourself in the exact wrong place at the exact right time. You’re not trying to get the wave of the day, you’re trying to get run over by it. Safely.” One lapse in judgment and you’re getting detonated on dry reef with $10K-plus in gear strapped to your wrist. “With slabs and shallow reef breaks, if you’re out of position, even by a few feet, you’re toast.” 

But sometimes you have to risk it for the biscuit — or, where risk tolerance meets composure and creativity. “The scariest beat down I’ve ever gotten is at Back Door. What people don’t realize is that when it’s really big, you get sucked around like crazy because there really isn’t a channel,” says Trimble. “It was maxing Back Door, proper 10 feet-plus and I had been shooting for three hours. I pushed it too far in to try and get a shot on the first wave of the set and that sucked me towards the impact zone, and most shallow part of the reef. I shot the second wave and got sucked another 15 yards closer and the third wave of the set ended up being the biggest and I was in 3-4 feet. of water with a 12-foot wave about to land on my head. I got slammed so hard and drug across the reef. Then another wave came and picked me up somehow and slammed me again and landed on my butt.” 

The results from the session? An epic shot of big-wave legend Billy Kemper.

In the end, it’s all worth it, says Trimble. “When it all clicks, that moment when nature, light, and human expression align: it’s worth everything. That’s the feeling I chase and why I keep showing up.”