Seeking Stories: The Filmmaker & The Creel-Boat Captain

Moving Down Under

Saying farewell to Asia, Doug moved on to Australia. He picked up work on festival sites and in bars but ended up back on the well-worn gap-year highway he had hoped to exit by leaving Thailand. He found plenty of backpackers having good times, but none of the novel experiences he sought.

It was at this time Doug struck upon a new idea; he would walk a 1000km stretch of coastline from Melbourne to Adelaide – alone. It would take six weeks.

Pouring over Google satellite images, Doug spent months planning his route. It would guide him along a coastline of craggy cliffs, dune lands, tarmac, bush, scrub, and a lot of sand. Most of his path would not be part of any marked trail, giving Doug the sense he was finally doing something different. Crucially, the journey would provide him with a story never before told.

Near Death on the Neretva River

Returning to the UK, Doug toyed with the idea of being a writer. He went on to study English literature at university and undertook several more foreign forays – including a 42-day walk across the French Pyrenees – using them as opportunities to film and photograph.

Then in 2016, Doug conceived a new journey; a first descent by stand-up paddle board, of the Neretva river in Bosnia and Herzegovina. It was meant to provide him with photos, video, and a story worth telling.

The resulting materials, which include a ten-minute film, document an enviable adventure. Doug captured beautiful Bosnian scenery and spliced it with admirable on-camera honesty. Before the trip, Doug had logged just three days’ experience on a SUP. Out of his depth at times, he battled white water beyond his skill level, struggled against strong winds he had not planned for, and even broke his paddle. The first descent adventure could easily have become Doug’s last.

Doug’s filmmaking was much improved since his Australian odyssey. Indeed, by now, Doug had entered the working world of commercial videography, shooting people and products for a living. But though he had found adventure on the Neretva, the artistic recognition he sought for his storytelling, eluded him.

“I submitted my Neretva story to an adventure travel magazine I really respected. They rejected it because the photos weren’t good enough. That was hard for me to take. It made me realize I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.”

Doug didn’t give up, however. He kept conceiving new journeys and travels to document until he had another big realization; he was telling the wrong stories.

Doug was perhaps a little harsh on himself with that assessment. Plenty of films document travel adventures in exotic locations. But the realization shifted Doug’s focus from recording journeys of his own, to finding stories of others worthy of telling.

A Fisherman’s Tale

It was during the aftermath of Brexit that Doug’s interest in telling a story of a UK heritage industry became piqued. The supposed benefits to farmers and fishermen of leaving the EU that had been used to sell Brexit had not come to fruition. The reality was that they were now in a worse position than ever. The more Doug learned about the fishing industry and its self-destruction, the more it angered him.

“It fueled my desire to make a film about fishing, to tell the truth of how it actually is.”

Whilst scouting for subjects, he stumbled upon Bally Philp. An outspoken Creel-boat fisherman from Scotland, he had been making waves (and enemies) in his fight against industrial trawling off the Isle of Skye.

The story had all the ingredients Doug was looking for; a David and Goliath battle in the environmental arena, a local anti-hero full of fire, and a beautiful location brimming with camera candy.

After a decade of making films about himself, Doug had finally landed a story the world needed to hear.

Guerrilla Filmmaking

Selling your film concept is one thing. Making it is another entirely. Doug did not have the luxury of being able to work on The Wake full-time. It was a weekend and evening project only, fitted around the day job (by now Craft’s in-house filmmaker).

Doug was under considerable pressure. Could he bag the beautiful shots he’d promised? Could he draw out those memorable quotes from Bally? Could he really capture the drama of a one-man creel boat battling the entire trawler industry?

Add those worries to major life changes (Doug became a first-time father during the project) and he had plenty on his plate.

Making the 10-hour round trips up and down to the Isle of Skye where Bally’s boat is located, was taxing. Many planets had to align. The weather, people’s availability, the tides – all had to be right to get the footage required. And shooting at sea comes with hazards of its own. Deckhands have the fourth-highest death rates of any job in the UK; there’s plenty to go wrong onboard.

“On day one, I dropped and smashed a £3,000 lens.”

Such is the unpredictable nature of documentary making. Especially in choppy Scottish seas.

But Doug’s expedition experience was now proving invaluable. At home in harsh natural conditions, Doug had no qualms about doing things that others with less mileage on their outdoor-adventure clocks would have politely declined.

“I was quite happy putting on a wetsuit and jumping in to the North Sea to get the underwater shots.”

Doug’s do or die attitude enabled him to get what he needed for the film – one way or another.

“It was guerrilla filmmaking.”