Into the Wild Frame: My Great Alaskan Summer Adventure at Katmai National Park
There are journeys that change your perspective — and then there are those that change you.
My trip to Alaska was both. It wasn’t a tour of wild landscapes or a checklist of iconic sights. It was a week of learning, adapting, and pushing beyond comfort zones under the mentorship of a master wildlife cinematographer — a chance to absorb knowledge, refine my craft, and rediscover what it means to film nature in its rawest form.
The Journey North
The destination: King Salmon, Alaska, at the transition between the king and silver salmon runs on the Naknek, River. The mission: to capture the rhythm of the Alaskan wilderness — the fish, the bears, and the life that connects them — while learning the art of wildlife storytelling through the camera lens.
From the moment I landed, Alaska demanded attention. Crisp air, endless daylight, and teal blue rivers teeming with life. Each day was packed from sunrise to sunset with fishing and filming. I wasn’t there to vacation — I was there to learn how to see differently.
Learning from Mark the Master
For seven days, I shadowed my mentor, Mark Emery — a man who’s spent over forty years filming wildlife and reading animal behavior, plus (quick brag) winning not one, but TWO Emmy’s. I watched how he observed the surroundings before instructing Taylor (fellow intern) and I through filming the wildlife in the area. Taking mental notes about everything he said, from filming a sequence to how to grow in the industry. We absorbed as much wisdom as our brains could handle.
Mark, captain at the helm, teaching Taylor and I about wildlife cinematography.
Fishing became part of that lesson. Though not my focus, it taught rhythm, timing, and awareness — the same instincts needed behind the camera. There’s something humbling about feeling a salmon strike the line, that sudden electric jolt of connection. By the week’s end, I could cast with confidence — and I left with bags of fresh fish and salmon roe, a delicious bonus to an already rich experience.
Drone Challenges and Triumphs
Flying a drone in Alaska sounds exhilarating — and it is — but it’s also nerve-racking when your mentor (and “director”) asks for a precise shot and your drone refuses to lift off. My heart sank when it happened on day two. The problem? Worn-out propellers. Once replaced, the drone sprang to life, and I was back in the air, tracing the bright blue thread of the river below.
The next challenge came with retrieval — catching the drone before it auto-landed in the water. Standing on the slippery bow of the boat, eyes skyward, hands ready, I managed to snatch it from the air before losing it. Those small moments of adrenaline are what make field cinematography thrilling: the blend of technical skill, quick thinking, and trust in your equipment.
Into Katmai National Park & Preserve
The highlight of the trip — a floatplane ride into Katmai National Park to film the world-famous Brooks Falls. The plane skimmed over turquoise lakes and dense green valleys before landing on a glassy stretch of water. Then came the moment I’ll never forget: my first sight of a grizzly bear.
It was standing in the river, scanning for salmon, utterly unbothered by us. I gasped so loudly that I startled my fellow intern, Taylor. Our group was small — just the three of us — and under my mentor’s steady leadership, we made our way down the forest trail toward the viewing platform.
Halfway there, another bear crossed our path, giving us a casual side glance. Mark instinctively stepped forward, positioning himself between us and the bear — calm, experienced, utterly composed. Taylor and I exchanged nervous glances and joked that we only had to be faster than our mentor… though we were grateful he was there.
The Bears of Brooks Falls
At the platform, the air buzzed with anticipation. The space was small and packed elbow-to-elbow with photographers, but no one cared. All eyes were fixed on the falls — where nature’s drama unfolded in pure cinematic perfection.
Massive Grizzly bears stood at the top of the cascade, snatching leaping salmon mid-air. Others lounged at the base, basking in what we nicknamed the "salmon jacuzzi." Half-eaten fish floated downstream, feeding gulls, maggots, and other scavengers — a vivid, humbling reminder of the cycle of life.
Then, with special permits, we carried our tripods and gear into the river itself. The water was cold and slow-moving, thick with salmon bodies and floating maggots. We set up our cameras between smooth stones as the bears took no notice of us, occasionally play-fighting in the mist. When the rain began to fall, I shielded my camera monitor with my jacket, while the soft drizzle turned everything into a painterly scene. The footage was mesmerizing, authentic, and unforgettable.
Reflections from the Wild
By the end of the week, I had more than just terabytes of footage. I had new confidence — in my storytelling, my drone flying, and my ability to adapt in unpredictable conditions. I learned that great cinematography isn’t about perfect conditions or expensive gear — it’s about being present, patient, and persistent.
Alaska doesn’t just test your skills; it reveals them. And as I flew home, watching the tundra fade beneath the clouds, I realized this adventure wasn’t just a trip. It was a turning point — a reminder of why I do what I do: to tell stories that connect people to the wild, one frame at a time.
Links:
https://www.nps.gov/katm/index.htm - Katmai National Park & Perserve
“Bear School” Everyone goes through Bear School to learn safe and proper etiquette around bears and camp. The introduction video every one watches: Mark Emery filmed it and visitors can find his photos in the gift shop.
View more of Mark Emery's work: https://markemeryfilms.com/
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creative mentorship, filmmaking career advice, wildlife photography mentorship, learning cinematography, importance of having a mentor, how mentorship improves creativity, film career growth, storytelling mentorship