4:37 p.m., December 5, 2019, Waimea Bay, O‘ahu

February 26, 2016, 10 a.m., Waimea Bay
As a surfer and lifelong athlete himself, Cannon knows how important it is to anticipate key moments in action. “What it forces you to do is to get ahead of yourself as a photographer,” he says. For this shot of Mason Ho at the 2016 Eddie, he knew where he wanted to be when the moment happened. “Mason paddled in, made the drop, and had to straighten out. I was able to get the perspective just right so that you feel like you’re at water level, with that mountain of water coming down behind him, the spray coming off. You can get close to feeling the power of that wave, the scale of the energy coming at you. And, god, he’s so tiny in the middle of it. People talked about that wave for a long time.”

December 5, 2019, 4:30 p.m., Waimea Bay
This aerial shot of the 2019 Eddie Invitational opening ceremony paddle-out was taken by Cannon’s father, Brown Cannon, Jr. “The beauty of this image is that it was shot by my dad. So it is true: All of the images in the book were taken by Brown Cannon,” he says, laughing. “I knew that I wanted more angles than I could achieve while in the water, so I asked him to fly the drone up. With all the helicopters and the power lines, he was freaking out a little bit. But he did great. If you look at the circle, I’m in there; it’s right around the time I took the shot of Kohl and Mark and Mehana. There are all these backstories, little things that are happening just outside of the frame.”

December 3, 2021, 6:45 p.m., Waimea Bay
To many, Clyde Aikau is synonymous with the North Shore. His older brother, Eddie, became the North Shore’s first lifeguard in 1967, and Clyde grew up watching him charge massive waves in Waimea; later he would join Eddie in becoming a legendary waterman. In 1978, Eddie died during a rescue attempt in treacherous, stormy seas. The big-wave contest that bears Eddie’s name, spearheaded by Clyde, is held only when the waves grow to mythic size. Uncle Clyde, as he’s known to many, is now in his mid seventies. “This was a unique time to do this project, because you can still shoot these original pioneers of modern surfing,” Cannon says. “Clyde is one of a small group of people who have a direct connection to Eddie, to Duke Kahanamoku [considered the father of the modern sport]. It became more and more evident as the project went on: You fast-forward 10 years, and these individuals are likely gone. Two of the people in the book have passed away already. You feel how precious time is.”

November 25, 2018, 6:30 p.m., ‘Ehukai Beach
The spectator experience, the pull of the water, even for those who don’t surf: This sunset image of ‘Ehukai Beach conjures the mesmerizing power of the ocean. “It took me a long, long time to get a shot that conveys what it’s like to be there,” Cannon says. “People in the foreground, surfers in the distance, waves coming through. There’s a lot of sound and energy that you can’t hear in the photograph, but you can sense it. It’s a bit raw. The water’s pooled up on the beach. It blows me away how many people visit the North Shore — more than three million a year, I think. Ninety-nine percent of the people just come to watch the show.”

December 9, 2009, 5 p.m., Hale‘iwa
The fields of pineapples above Hale‘iwa and the mountains beyond have beguiled Cannon all his life. “I’ve passed through these pineapple fields thousands of times, and I always stop to shoot when the conditions are right,” he says. “There are spots I revisit over and over again, because there are opportunities to improve upon what you’ve done before. In this photo, the growing time is perfect — all the fields are filled up with pineapple; the birds happen to be going by. So many things are happening here that I haven’t been able to reproduce, even though I’ve continued to try.” To him, the scene means the sea is near. “When you’re in the pineapple fields and descending down into Hale‘iwa, you know you’re almost there. You’ll be in the ocean in 15 minutes.”

February 17, 2017, 5:30 p.m., ‘Ehukai
For Cannon, this backlit barrel at the iconic Off the Wall surf break, shot in 2017, evokes the essential tension between his photographer self and his surfer self — the competing interests of being in the water versus shooting someone else being in the water. “In this image, because of the sense of place, the layers, the surfer becomes almost secondary,” he says. “I love the warmth. The greens are happening in the wave, connecting to the foliage, combined with the golden light. The color gives it depth. Every surfer would love to mind-surf this. I wish I could be there instead of at my desk in Oregon. To be honest, I look at this shot a lot.”

February 7, 2022, 2:15 p.m., North Shore
The beloved waterman and North Shore lifeguard Tamayo Perry was known for his fierce dedication to his job and to his community — “if you’re deep in it and you’re in big trouble, I’m that guy who’s gonna swim in and get your ass,” he said at an event for NORTH earlier this year. In June 2024, Perry was killed in a shark encounter. He was 49 years old. “The hugs he gave were very big,” Cannon says. “He always showed up. And Tamayo was as spectacular on waves as he was on land — passionate, determined, a truly creative and artful surfer. He never remembered much about any specific wave, other than the feeling and the energy and the mood of the wave. That’s what he was after. And it was infectious. A day of shooting at the Pipe surf break is about a few exceptional, defining moments. And you knew that would happen if Tamayo was in the lineup.”