Story
I took this photograph somewhat begrudgingly, though I was ultimately very happy with how it turned out.
My stepbrother came to visit for Thanksgiving 2025. I hadn’t seen him in nearly twenty years. I live in the beautiful town of Benicia, California, along the Carquinez Strait—the same town where he grew up. In fact, the house I now live in was his childhood home.
When our parents married, the house became a rental property. Years later, after my stepmother passed away, the house eventually went to my father. Through a long chain of events—which I won’t recount here—I ended up living in it. My stepbrother now lives back east, so this visit was especially meaningful. We spent our time walking around town, sharing stories, and revisiting places he used to spend time as a kid.
The night before Thanksgiving—November 26th—I planned to photograph the sunset. Normally, this is something I prefer to do alone. It’s a quiet, personal ritual for me. But since he was visiting and our time together was short, I invited him and my sister to come along.
We went to the end of First Street in Benicia. Offshore, a sailboat had run aground on a rocky outcropping—apparently unseen by its crew—and now sat wrecked against the rocks. It was an unusual and compelling sight. I launched my drone, focusing primarily on the stranded sailboat. The sunset itself was modest, nothing particularly dramatic, though you can see its soft glow in the background of this image.
As I was photographing the wreck, a tugboat came motoring through the strait. My stepbrother urged me to photograph it. I hesitated—I hadn’t planned on shooting the tug—but he was enthusiastic. By then the vessel was already moving away, so I redirected the drone and followed it out over the water, getting as close as I reasonably could and capturing a series of images, mostly for his sake.
When I returned home and began processing the photographs, I was surprised. The images of the wrecked sailboat didn’t resonate the way I had hoped. But this photograph of the tugboat did.
I was struck by the subtle color along the horizon and the overall mood of the scene. The light was understated, yet it carried a quiet depth. There was a feeling of calm purpose in the tug’s steady movement across the water. Initially, I titled the image as though the tug were heading out to begin its day’s work. But on reflection, it feels more fitting to imagine it returning home after a long day on the Carquinez Strait.
In the end, the photograph I almost didn’t take became the one that stayed with me.