Conquistadors: The Stories: Peter Harvey (Camerman)
"Bye dear! Just off to work. See you this evening" is not something you would tend to hear as Michael and his crew set off on a normal days' work.
Normal for us, that is.
Just the simple act of getting to work is usually the kind of adventure that most people would pay an awful lot of money to have. Our commuter transport system tends to vary with the terrain. We have travelled by floatplane, helicopter, open 4x4's, expedition truck, dug out canoe, by foot... lots and lots of 'by foot'. And by the sort of conveyance that has a leg at each corner, long pointy ears and a foul temper. No, not the director, but the dreaded pack horse/mule/llama.
In Peru we had to travel by horse up to an Andean festival at about 15,000 feet.
A personal 'crossing the Rubicon' was approaching.
"Have you ridden a lot before?" I was glibly asked as we hit the end of the driveable, dirt road - and also my point of no return. Truthfully, I could say that I had spent as much time in the saddle with a camera on my shoulder, as I had spent riding normally.
What I couldn't say, as my chosen horse eyed me balefully, was that these times added up to just the once.
I think that cameramen naturally assume that they/we are somehow invulnerable. The problem comes when other people (production people) have come to share that assumption.
When I was preparing the equipment for one of our trips to Florida, a parcel arrived from the production office. In it was a pair of brand new waders, complete with no explanation.
On the phone; "Er, Sally, what are the waders for?"
"They're for the alligators"
Now, even I know that alligators have four legs, not two. Aren't they naturally waterproof? Check out the sequence in the Everglades....
Getting back from work also has it's moments. We had trekked, on foot, for three days through the Peruvian cloud forest, to reach the Lost City.
Question: "What's the job description of a Lost City?
Answer: "Nobody knows how to find it. It's lost! Get it?
So why were we surprised when the helicopter that was due to lift us out of aforementioned Lost City didn't arrive?
We knew where we were, but somehow the rest of the world didn't believe us. Oh sure! Three more days of hanging around in the jungle, sending out the co-ordinates on the satellite phone (until it stopped working) were really good fun.
Michael played football with the muleteers, it rained. The tents leaked, the equipment got soaked. It rained some more.
We had the wicked pleasure of hearing that girl power was brought to bear on our missing pilot. Our fixer, Deborah, in Lima, and our Producer, Rebecca in London, conference-called him into submission. It kept on raining.
Then, one night, while we enjoyed improvised Pisco Sours made from jungle ingredients, it stopped raining. The clouds cleared to reveal the kind of sky that you only read about in poetry. In the clear mountain air, I could see more stars than I could possibly imagine. Pure magic!
The films that I have shot with Michael have given me more fun, more excitement, more challenges and more treasured memories than I could amass in several lifetimes.
When do we leave for the next one?