Updates on travels, adventures and news from Jess McGlothlin Media.
“Despite the fact that North Korea had recently launched two missiles over the island and a typhoon was barreling our way, the daily tempo of life on Hokkaido appeared peaceful, almost bucolic.”
I penned a few words about fly-fishing Japan’s northern island of Hokkaido for The Fly Fish Journal. Read it in the latest issue, or online here.
(Author’s note: This post was originally published August 14, 2017. In the spirit of continued queries and the turn to 2020, I’ve edited slightly and posted again.)
I get at least two emails or social media messages a week. “Hey, what you’re doing looks like a lot of fun. I’m A) about to graduate or B) looking to leave my corporate job and want to travel the world to shoot photographs of people fishing. How can I get your job?”
It’s always flattering to have the public view one as an expert in, well… anything. And I’m more than happy to share the path that lead to me to where I am now. It’s an ever-evolving proposition, and I’m sure as hell learning something new every day.
Every conversation, be it a phone call, in-person, or via email, however, beings with this simple warning: it’s not as glamorous as it looks. In between the monster fish, beautiful locations and far-flung locales, there’s plenty of sleeping on grimy airport floors, getting tested for tropical diseases and eating whatever food might be on hand (readily identifiable or not… when in Rome, and all that.).
There are also the 3AM work sessions, glazed eyes from photo editing days and exhausted writing stints where I stare vacantly at a blank sheet of paper until I just decide to start writing gibberish. Stability is a forgotten thing — I keep a “go bag” packed for last-minute trips (see some of my favorite gear here), and keeping a steady relationship is challenging to say the least. I pay rent even though I’m gone anywhere from four to six months of the year.
So, yes, while it may look glamorous and exciting — and it can be both, though glamorous isn’t often the adjective I’d use — realize there’s a cost to those good moments.
Still thinking about becoming an outdoor / fishing photographer or writer? Read on; here are five tips to help you on your way.
1) Most important of all: be willing to put the work in. In my early years, I worked three jobs while teaching myself how to shoot. There’s no way to gain an instant skill set in this world… to be a professional, it takes long hours in the field, plenty of research and learning on your own and a willingness to set aside other aspects of your life in order to make it work.
Put the ego aside and realize you’ve got a lot to learn. We all do.
2) Develop your own style. The end goal is for someone to be flipping through the latest fishing magazine, lay eyes on one of your images and immediately know who shot it. A distinct shooting style sets you apart from your peers — and it’s something editors and commercial clients will look for. I’ve gotten some jobs because of my style, and had clients turn me down for others for the same reason. Sometimes it’s a good fit, other times it’s not, and that’s okay.
Your own style is a personal decision; don’t just copy how someone else shoots. Experiment, see what feels right, and make it your own.
3) Learn other aspects of the industry. This is especially true if you want to become fly-fishing-specific media. You need to know what life on the other side of the lens is like. Some of the best moves I made early on in my career were working in lodges internationally and fly shops around the U.S.. This helped me understand the challenges on the other side of the lens, and also helped establish credibility. Now, I can arrive at a lodge for a shoot and honestly say, “Hey, I’ve been in your shoes. We’re good.” Everyone relaxes.
Also, do yourself a favor and learn how to cast. It’s hard to look like a professional in the industry — in any matter — if you can’t fish yourself. The first day out with a new guide on location, we’ll chat about the battle plan and expectations, and then I’ll casually pick up the rod for a little bit. I’m by no means a rock star caster, but I can get it done. When a guide sees that he’s with someone who knows what they’re doing, the day mellows indescribably. Learn to fish; you don’t have to be the best in the world but at least cover your basics. The effort will be respected.
4) Take notes. So, you only want to be a photographer… forget all that writing stuff. Okay. You should still pack a notebook and pen (or a phone with note-taking capabilities). Take notes — names, places, distances, fish habitat, funny phrases, etc. Good, complete captions are key — editors will appreciate if you have the correct information, and plenty of it.
5) Just shoot. So, you’re not flying halfway around the world to cover an exotic fishery. Grab a friend and head to your neighborhood river. Play with light, play with fish, play with moving your feet and capturing different angles. Just play. Shoot subjects other than just fishing. You’ll be amazed at some of the images that you come away with.
Perhaps the biggest rule of all is to do what feels creatively right. I don’t know how many times I’ve been out shooting and see something spectacular through the lens, then just feel a goofy smile cross my lips. You’ll know when it feels right. And sometimes those shots take a lot of effort — technical set-up, lighting, hiking in long distances, wading deeper than your comfort level, ignoring that pesky little blacktip shark that keeps cruising by, etc. — while other times, it seems as easy as pie.
Pick up your camera, get on your feet and shoot. Learn how to use your camera — get it the hell off auto. Network within the industry. Don’t be afraid to work… it’ll take you far. And, at the end of the day if you decide being a professional is just too much, don’t let it dampen your creativity or your love of fishing. Everyone comes at this lifestyle differently, and that’s the beauty of it.
Want a peek at what happens behind the scenes? While I was on commercial and editorial assignments this past summer in Swedish Lapland, the Swedish Lapland Tourism team (who were rather savvy anglers themselves) shot this video. It’s quite candid — I was too busy focusing on my own assignments to do any kind of scripted… anything — but the team did a fantastic job of it. We filmed most of the audio at 2 or 3AM over the course of several mornings, so here’s a bit of tired honesty for you… and a look at life on location:
I had fun chatting with Greg at the Fly Fishing Insider Podcast a few weeks ago. We chatted about travel, gear, how to get started in the industry, what our industry might look like post-COVID-19, and more. The episode just came out; if you’re looking to burn a few minutes, give it a listen.
“The air is heavy with humidity and the playful scent of tropical flowers, mixing languidly with the scent of aviation fuel and the general bustle of Belize’s largest airport, Philip S. W. Goldson International, in Belize City. The open-air stroll into customs provides a welcome glance at what’s to come: Belize is delightfully casual. Things move on ‘island time’ in this Central American country, and the airport experience is a part of that. I’m quick to find a seat at Jett’s Bar, the bustling airport bar run by diminutive, wizened Jett, and settle in to wait for the short Tropic Air flight to San Pedro.”
The U.K.’s Fieldsports Journal is one of my favorite publications to work with. The magazine itself is gorgeous—thick, heavy paper printed with intense colors, the binding sturdy. Each issue reads more like a mini-book than a magazine, and shows in my mailbox carefully nestled in cardboard packaging. Quality, all around. The editors are lovely, and I delve through each issue—whether or not I have an article placed—with excitement.
In this most recent issue, I wrote up a few words about Belize escapes. I’ve been down to the Central American country three times now, each time bringing very different experiences and new lessons both on and off the water. But there’s a relaxed “go slow” island vibe I fall in love with a little more each trip. I tried to sum it up in the closing paragraph of this most recent article:
“After a long day on the boat (most full-day fishing trips run eight hours) it’s back to the lodge for 
appetizers and cold drinks. Bartender Mariano runs the bustling El Pescador bar, serving up a mean Belizean Painkiller crafted from pineapple juice, orange juice, and spiced rum, with a few special additions. As is traditional at any fishing destination around the world, fish stories are exchanged over drinks and bar games; tales of near-misses and photo proof of the ones that didn’t get away. Later, dinner is served informally at the open-air tables dotting the deck, and newfound friends find themselves seated at the long tables, exchanging fishing tales from Belize and beyond. The tropic air of the Caribbean softens at night yet rarely loses its warmth or humidity, and once the revelry at the bar ebbs anglers find their way back to their rooms, ready to rise again in the morning and do it all again.”
It was quite a pleasant surprise to glance through the web on Friday and find this extremely kind feature from Gear Junkie. Extremely flattered to be featured in this round-up of women in the sporting world, and especially for the kind words that closed the section:
“Gender be damned, because McGlothlin isn’t simply one of the best female photographers in the outdoor industry — she’s one of the best overall.”
While I try to fly under the radar as much as possible on the personal press side—I’d rather tell the stories of other people, not my own—It was such a nice surprise. Thanks once more to everyone who supports this work… here’s to more adventures coming up!
Last summer I was lucky enough to go spend some time running around Swedish Lapland with a few newfound friends. While the team from Swedish Lapland Tourism was making a short film about my photography and writing work, I was running around with cameras and an underwater housing, trying to capture the incredible light, rivers, fish and people of far northern Sweden. Whenever you are above the Arctic Circle, magic tends to happen, and this was no exception.
I really enjoyed penning a feature for the U.K.’s Fieldsports Magazine about the trip, especially mine time off the grid at Geunja and Tjuonajokk, now two my favorite “reset and remember what’s important” locations. Thanks to the Swedish Lapland team, the awesome crew at Fish Your Dream and the various editors around the world who have supported this project. It’s rare on international shoots that everything goes smoothly and is even kind of relaxed, but this shoot was one of them (despite the lack of sleep—why rest when the midnight sun is the best light for making images?). And, somehow, despite the lack of sleep I’ve rarely felt better.
Must be something in the water.
