Wedding Video

A couple of months ago my cousin, Emilie and her partner Daniel asked me if I could make them a video for their wedding. 

It felt strange to do something so different from my normal work but I ended up really enjoying it and totally fell in love with our new camera during the shoot (Sony PXW-FS5)! I even managed to find a bit of dancing time at the end.

Thanks to everyone involved for organising such a lovely event.

Emilie + Daniel Hardy's Wedding Day on 28th April, 2017 in Adelaide, South Australia. Music - 'Ho Hey' by The Lumineers and 'Home' by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.     

Welcome to!

For the last two and a half years I've been at sea and it's taken me a long time to put this website together to showcase my work and I am really excited to be finally sharing it with you. Like anything creative it's still a work in progress so I'd love to hear your feedback. 

It's been a big transition time from living on the Sea Shepherd ships and being based in Melbourne to moving to NZ and being on land. I'm glad to say though that I am finally starting to find my feet and so happy to be back with my much loved animals. Here's me with Anoushka and Sailor enjoying our current natural habitat... New Zealand.

Does Your Smile Mean The Same As Mine? Thoughts From The Bottom Of The World

Guest article published here at Our Hen House

Last month, when Eliza Muirhead — who is currently working aboard Sea Shepherd’s Steve Irwin — wrote a feature for Our Hen House entitled “You’re Lucky to Love What You Do”: My Journeys On and Off the Sea Shepherd’s Steve Irwin, many of you joined us in being both smitten and awed by this changemaker’s stories from the front lines. In today’s second installment of Eliza’s three-part series, she writes from the Ross Sea — the “bottom of the world” — where she has what you might call a unique vantage point from which to ruminate on animal sentience. 


Does Your Smile Mean the Same as Mine? Thoughts from the Bottom of the World

by Eliza Muirhead

It’s easy to romanticize sailing on a ship in Antarctica; being among the castles of ice in a land that cares little about you, providing only two hours respite from sunlight per night. Freezing winds that give little warning of the sudden turn of sunshine into a snowstorm. The only thing beneath your feet being a speck of a hull floating above miles of dark ocean in a place so remote that, even in a society where you can step on a plane and be almost anywhere within 24 hours, still remains off the traveled map. The bottom of the world.

Not many people ever get the opportunity to take a step outside of the demands and habits of our modern society. To go somewhere that has no need or respect for money, where the day of the week or the time of day means only what you choose to make it mean.

It’s a place that gives you the opportunity to peel your life back to its elemental needs and pleasures. Mashed potatoes have never tasted so delicious, a radiating heater has never been so comforting, and the company of a good friend is actually, consciously, appreciated.

When you are stuck with what you’ve got, the small pile of warm clothes in plastic tubs under your bunk, a dwindling supply of soft apples in the cool room and the company of whoever is sitting beside you, you appreciate it.

To read the rest of the article head to Our Hen House

You're Lucky to Love What You Do

Guest article published at Our Hen House

Let me start off by saying that today’s guest writer, Eliza Muirhead, is about to become a hero to you. I thought Eliza was pretty swell back in 2010 when OHH reported on some student filmmakers (including Eliza) who focused their studies on animal rights. Then, in 2012, I told you about the incredible program Fair Projects, which she started – a comprehensive resource for nonprofits aiming to provide “professional quality services and products in media, marketing, fundraising and communications at a fair rate.” In 2013, I had the chance to meet this changemaker, who was already pretty high up in my book, when she visited New York City along with her good friend, Hillary Watson – who I somehow convinced to write a guest column for OHH about veganizing an entire galley, when she was the cook on a ship involved in a campaign to collect sperm whale skin biopsies in order to determine whether the whales were accumulating toxins associated with the 2010 BP oil spill. Eliza, Hillary, Mariann, and I sat at the vegetarian café ‘sNice, in Soho, and chatted about the lifesaving work of Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, as well as our other various projects. But mostly, Mariann and I listened intently, sipping our soy lattes slowly – trying to buy more time with these stupendous women. We sat in awe as Eliza and Hillary (Captain Paul Watson’s niece) told us tales of their travels on board Sea Shepherd’s Steve Irwin, as well as on the Odyssey, which was part of a collaborative campaign between Sea Shepherd and the marine research organization Ocean Alliance (the ship that Hillary successfully veganized).

It was one of those experiences that can leave you feeling both invigorated and deflated – how can what I do possibly hold a candle to these true animal heroes who are putting themselves on the frontlines, risking their lives in order to save animals? But that defeatist attitude quickly dissipated when I took a step back, let the caffeine from my latte settle in, and reminded myself that changing the world takes all types, all roads, and all kinds. As with Hillary, Eliza is indeed one of a kind, and I’m absolutely gobsmacked that she agreed to share a little of her story with us today – as she currently is on board the Sea Shepherd’s Steve Irwin.



by Eliza Muirhead

Today marks our seventh day at sea and I am currently sitting in the mess of the Steve Irwin distracted by the portholes diving into the electric-blue water. I find it hard to believe that only a week ago I was sitting on a hot crowded Melbourne tram,

It was a strange day – our last morning on land and Melbourne’s first real summery day. I took the opportunity to duck into the city, enjoy my last city coffee, and pick up a few bits and pieces for my Secret Santa gift – rolls of thread that would later turn into evenings spent chasing them as they rolled around my cabin floor. It’s been special this year to leave so close to Christmas. Unlike last year, when we left at the beginning of November, we’ve been able to watch the Christmas decorations go up around town, see the jacarandas bloom, and have time to work on our Secret Santa presents (a job taken very seriously on the Steve Irwin – only handmade gifts permitted).

I survived the city full of mad shoppers, picked up my remaining bits of equipment – a second camera body for the small boats, a few more thermals – and aimed to be back on the boat by 2:30 p.m., in time for Customs to check our passports and clear us out of the country...

To read the rest of the article head to Our Hen House

It’s my birthday and I’ll cry if I want to

Tomorrow I will celebrate my one year anniversary as a Sea Shepherd crew member. Over the past 12 months I have sailed enough miles to circumnavigate the globe. I have been a part of defending two of the last remaining pristine wildernesses areas left on this planet; Antarctica and The Kimberley region in Western Australia. I’ve seen the same humpbacks breaching against the blue mountains of icebergs while they’re feeding in Antarctica, breach against the red cliffs of the Kimberley coast while they socialize and calve in Western Australia.

But today I find myself somewhere quite different; The Gulf of Mexico.

The Gulf of Mexico could not be more opposite to Antarctica and the Kimberley, it’s a picture example of what it means to ‘industrialize’ a body of water. Hundreds of oil rigs light up the horizon through the night and bright orange buoys scatter the surface attached to long lines that stretch their deadly tentacles 3 miles into the depths. In the Gulf we have sailed through oil slicks that we could smell before we could see them, casting their rainbow sheen over the horizon. Over a 100 miles from land we’ve picked up human trash in the form of styrofoam boxes, discarded fishing bouys, balloons celebrating birthdays and new borns and floating plastic versions of just about everything imaginable.

And this is just what’s on the surface...

To read the rest of the article head over here...