The Cape Fear River
August 2, 2025Summer 2025
Using artificial intelligence (AI) to write this blog post was utterly regrettable. I suppose I wanted to be in with the times. If everyone was using AI, why shouldn’t I? But what resulted was a gobbledygook reserved only for the blunt in taste. One can say using AI for writing is the complete opposite of film photography in essence–you skip the striving for immediate gratification, and in turn, sacrifice the aesthetic experience of what is otherwise a deeply satisfying human activity.
Art making–everyone seeks aesthetic satisfaction in their life. Why do some people enjoy driving stick shift over the more convenient automatic transmissions, grind their own coffee instead of punching the Keurig button, or at the minimal level, prefer a certain color of shirt over another? My point is everyone, at some point during their day, makes decisions purely for aesthetic reasons. And for some, seeking this aesthetic experience becomes central. This is why I disdained my initial version of this post using AI. This is why I photographed the Cape Fear River in film.
I know that two of my favorite poets somehow have written about rivers, and more photographers start and complete photo projects based solely on this particular body of water. What is it with rivers? Is it the interconnectedness of water that sparks the imagination of writers? Is a mysterious power felt when one wonders what is beneath the river? Here is T.S. Eliot and Jorge Luis Borges reflecting on rivers:
Cape Fear is a 200-mile long river that runs from the Atlantic through central North Carolina. It is named after its dangerous shoals by the sailors who first set sail to it. The rainfall was heavy during my first attempt at documenting. It was the second week of July, the river rose past its bank, and the vegetation surrounding the river was left with dried mud, leaving a surreal, gleaming appearance. In many ways, the surrounding flora became more interesting than the subject I sought for. I thought the mud-draped leaves and branches had the appearance of magic, of some land from a fantasy story. It was magnetic.
During this time, I finished one roll of Portra 160 using my Pentax 645n with the 75mm lens, mostly at F/11. I sent my roll to a professional lab in Alabama, and had the most wonderful results I could not have dreamed of.
Having been inspired by my initial efforts, I returned to a different location of the river two more times, this time with my Nikon F100, a roll of Kodak Portra 400, and whatever was left with the Portra 800. Over the river is a railroad track which has a pedestrian walkway for some reason. Unsurprisingly, below the track and along the bank are many signs of human activity: wall art, mattresses, and some personal belongings. There is also a blackwater creek that runs parallel to the river.
Having decided to scan my own films, what resulted was extremely different from my prior attempt. I was not shocked nor disappointed with the roughness of the scans. I am enjoying the variety of results from this process; I feel that nothing is quite predictable with this series of the Cape Fear River at this point.
Speaking of unpredictability, I took the photo below from the vantage point of the railroad track parallel to Person street bridge, not knowing I was also recording an artifact from World War II. This dilapidated boat was apparently designated USS Patrol Craft 1084 (PC-1084), and was responsible for defending parts of the East Coast from submarines and aircrafts. Recently, it had been the subject of scholarly interests and was featured in a Fayetteville Observer and The News and Observer articles, which explain the origin of the boat in more detail. Naturally, I plan to head back to this location with the intent of making photographs of PC-1084.
Somehow, I managed to stitch together a short clip from that location:
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