King of the Kimberley 👑
Kimberley, Australia Expedition Day 12 of 14
Written by Scott David Martin | May 10, 2023
The Dash [ - ] goes behind the scenes of a WABU filmmaking expedition in the remote Northwest region of Australia, The Kimberley. In this 14-part series, we’ll share the highs and lows, from marathon shoots aboard luxurious yachts to heart-stopping encounters with nature's fiercest creatures.
The crown jewel of the Kimberley, King George Falls
©SEABOURN | 📷 S. Martin
Day 12.
We have three-quarters of the campaign in the can.
But we have one day left on the water,
and it is the most ambitious of them all.
Drones.
Boats.
Croc country.
Our target, the crown jewel, King George Falls.
King George River, Kimberley, Australia -13° 57' 26.39" S 127° 19' 25.80" E
It is 4:45 AM.
We step onto the deck of Nyaid.
The Kimberley is still sleeping.
The sky overhead, dark blue.
Just a whisper of light over the cliffs.
Launching the Nyaid,
warm air blows past us.
But I’m not relaxed.
I am running through the checklist, mentally.
Photo. Video. Drone.
The final shots that make or break this campaign.
Today is the day.
Six months back,
We drew a red circle around this day.
Day 12.
The day we built the whole expedition around.
The plan is simple:
Start at dawn. Wrap at dusk.
Capture the hero moments in perfect light.
No margin for error.
But after eleven days of grinding…
Battling tides, chasing light,
And dodging crocs…
I’m thinking…
Does WABU have anything left in the tank?
Dawn zodiac ride on the King George River
©SEABOURN | 📷 S. Martin
Photo & Video
We tear through the canyon.
Our shot list is stacked, both photo & video, side by side.
Video lets you feel it.
Motion, sound, energy.
BUT photos?
They often demand a different approach.
Balancing both mediums is challenging.
It’s a dance between motion and stillness.
But when it’s done right,
the value for the client is enormous.
It’s one of the smartest ways to stretch a brand’s investment.
This morning, light dictates the order:
photos first, video second.
Sunrise zodiac ride on the King George River
©SEABOURN | 📷 S. Martin
Spray hits our faces as the cliffs blur past.
The canyon is buzzing with life.
We push hard.
Sunrise waits for no one and our spot is calling.
I fire the shutter while Chris, our pilot, preps the drone.
Then, boom!
First light spills straight into the lens.
Pure.
Direct.
Unfiltered.
Spray hits our face on the King George River
©SEABOURN | 📷 S. Martin
The colors change every second.
A canyon carved by time, now wrapped in gold.
I lean up and scream.
WOOOOHOOOO!
I can’t help it.
My voice bounces off the canyon walls.
Marc turns slowly and quietly says…
“Calm down, man. It’s 5 AM, other boats are asleep.”
I nod.
BUT I can’t stop smiling.
The ancient rock is glowing.
Waking from a 60-million-year dream.
Everything we’d imagined on the storyboards…
is suddenly real.
I want to stay in the moment, to let it sink in.
But we need to get back to the crown jewel.
The Zodiac and Nydaid pull a 180.
Race back to the falls.
Approaching, the water thunders.
But the light hasn’t kissed the falls directly, yet.
I glance at the team. Grins all around.
Everyone knows.
Yesterday’s scout dialed us in.
We are right on cue.
But the clock is ticking before everything shifts.
“Zodiac first,” I call over the radios.
Producer Marc and I huddle quickly.
The plan:
Shoot inside the Zodiacs.
Shift to the Nyaid for boat-to-boat.
Finish on Akiko for the drone.
Three ships.
Three captains.
One tightly planned move.
Expedition Leader Robin navigates into position quickly.
The shutter fires.
We got it.
Zodiac, done.
On to the Nyaid.
'“All radios, line up zodiac into hero position,”
Producer Marc declares over the radio.
Talent & zodiac drift into position,
framed by a curtain of roaring water.
Zodiac captain Robin, & Nyaid captain Josh, move in perfect sync.
Like ballerinas on water.
I leap onto the bow of the zodiac.
Marc grabs me firmly.
Falling in here?
The water might be warm.
But it’s also filled with crocs.
The closer we drift, the louder it gets.
Zodiac.
Nydaid.
Waterfall.
It’s a storm of sound.
Total chaos, choreographed.
Boat to boat, check!
Time to head back to Akiko and gear up for the big one..
the master drone shot at King George Falls.
I’m thinking to myself…
We hit every beat this morning.
Every shot landed.
This day is perfect.
Shackleton
Goonies never say die, right?
Neither does WABU.
Well, sort of.
Our compass points to Shackleton, not Hollywood.
“Optimism in the face of adversity is true moral courage.”
That’s Ernest Shackleton’s quote.
And that’s the WABU code.
The more we shoot in remote places,
the more our optimism gets tested.
But today?
Today is rare.
We’ve scouted every location.
We know what’s coming.
The plan is tight.
Six months of hard work led us to this moment.
That’s why we practice like hell.
So game day feels like heaven.
During the morning session,
Captain Ben eased Akiko into position, right in front of the falls.
It’s the perfect launch pad for the drone.
Flying from the Zodiac is pure adrenaline,
but for this, our biggest shot, Akiko is essential.
We step aboard.
The crew fans out to each corner of the vessel.
Chris, Marc, and I head for the bow.
The energy is electric.
Six months in the making…
and we’re about to nail it.
But as we set up, we hear them…
the rumble of helicopter blades.
Overhead, a tour group begins flying tight loops.
The airspace is gone.
I stare up at the sky, tense.
I’d visualized this frame a hundred times.
We’d timed the light perfectly.
And now we are stuck.
I lean back against the Zodiac and sigh.
I quietly say,
“We’re gonna lose it.”
My humanity slips through.
Pessimism.
Doubt.
If you know Dumb & Dumber,
this is my Lloyd Christmas moment.
The part where he says,
“So you’re telling me there’s a chance?”… only in reverse.
Someone could’ve looked me dead in the eye and said,
“What happened to all that optimism talk?”
And they’d have been right.
The radio chatter spikes and I snap back in.
I look at Producer Marc, searching for answers.
We’ve got nothing.
The crew is scrambling.
“What’s the flight status?” Andrew calls from the aft.
“Negative on drone ops,” Marc replies.
Captain Ben calls the pilots.
The verdict lands like a punch.
The shot is over.
My heart drops.
But then, a miracle:
A fifteen-minute window.
“We have the air space now,”
Captain Ben reports to the team.
No time to overthink.
We launch.
The drone booms up, reveals the double drop of the falls,
and the mist catching sunlight.
"‘Send the zodiac,” I say to Producer Marc.
"Marc to Zodiac. Drone in position,
approach the falls, over,” Marc says through a smile.
"Copy. Zodiac approaching falls, over,”
Expedition Leader Robin exclaims.
We got it.
The hero shot.
The one we needed.
A wave of relief wastes over me.
And the real kicker?
This shot doesn’t even make it into the final cut.
More on that later.
But this waterfall is not finished.
One more chance beneath the falls.
Photo & Video.
One last pass.
This time, in full sun.
Yesterday’s take hit hard.
It felt alive.
But we built the entire schedule around this location.
Two chances, rare out here.
We’re not wasting it.
Childlike curiosity screams through our veins.
My ten-year old self is very proud.
I’m working harder than I ever have.
But the playful energy is revealing itself in the content.
The Kimberley is where adults come to play again.
And we’re capturing that energy.
Spray slams into us from all sides.
It feels like a baptism.
A final rinse from the land itself.
After our last moment at the falls, we celebrate quietly.
Exhausted.
Grateful.
A little stunned.
Technically, in this moment,
We have everything we came for (on the water) for the storyboard.
Every last shot.
Everyone is thinking…relaxing day onboard the Akiko?
But no one could have predicted the afternoon.
We burst out of the canyon.
I catch a quick nap.
But paradise wakes me.
Nearing Akiko, a sandbar emerges.
“We’re late for lunch, but do want to check it out?”
Expedition leader Robin asks.
We answer as one: “Yes.”
Closing in on the sandbar, we hear it…waterfalls.
More waterfalls?
We start shooting.
But I notice something wrong with our A-camera,
a camera worth the value of premium SUV.
“Everything looks hazy in the monitor,” I tell Andrew.
Our worst fear sets in.
Did that waterfall shot cost us the camera?
We head back to triage the gear.
We immediately disassemble the camera.
Andrew turns to me…
“A-cam is down,” he says.
“Do you need any more shots?”
”Not with A-cam, but we need that back up tomorrow,”
I respond.
’”Copy,” Andrew says with trepidation.
At this point, we’ve covered the entire canyon.
I know what every corner looks like.
Except for one.
Because this one, to capture safely,
we’d need to take off from land.
In the middle of croc country.
It’s day 12.
Everyone could use a break.
But this shot, the one we don’t get, will haunt me.
If we try and don’t get it, fine.
That’s what the film gods want.
If we don’t try, that’s on us.
That’s not the WABU way.
WABU owes this to KT, our client.
She provides this opportunity.
I do not want to let her down.
I ask Robin & Josh, “do you want to go back out tonight?”
They both respond, “when are we leaving.”
Chris, Marc, Andrew all respond the same way.
I can see the exhaustion on their faces.
But I also see the passion to explore in their eyes.
These are world-class teammates.
And I’m lucky to lead them.
Light starts to fade.
We load the Nyaid and Zodiac one last time.
We reach the remote beach for our final scene.
It’s gorgeous. White sand.
Blood-red rock.
I scan the shoreline.
Nothing.
Still, my gut is tight.
But then, on the far bank, a croc.
Do I call it out?
I think:
Can we do anything?
No.
Plenty more we can’t see.
I stay quiet. Keep the crew focused.
Stay alert. Stay safe.
We land.
A new job assignment: Croc Watch.
Noise traps in place.
Andrew watching the water.
Cameras rolling.
©SEABOURN | 📷 C. Trantina
But every snap of a twig had me spinning.
Let’s get this quickly.
The drone launches at last light.
I see the shot.
“O —-”
The shot?
Better than the one we had in the storyboards.
Why?
Because it is brand own-able,
a shot we couldn’t find on the internet.
It is a Kimberley original.
A gift
It’s now dark.
We pile into the Zodiac and the whole team exhales.
Back to the Akiko.
Onboard, Seb plates the last supper.
We sat on the deck, faces lit by candlelight.
I didn’t say much.
Just looked around the table.
Everyone is sunburnt, tired, proud.
And I think:
This is more than a commercial shoot.
This is a mission. A test.
A gift.
Up next on The Dash (—):
We swap water for land,
crocs for spiders and snakes.
Just two days ashore…
I thought we’d miss one or the other.
I was wrong.