“F*ck yeah! Oh, man. I promised myself I was gonna try to rein my cursing in around you guys. Damnit.” Christa Funk carefully places her underwater housing and camera equipment in Cyrus’s truck. We’re headed back to the Kona airport after a day of fishing and diving, and Mark Healey’s good friend, Captain Cyrus Widhalm, just gave us the okay to hop in the back of his pickup. We’re all excited—especially Christa—to drive in the open air and feel the tiniest bit of lawlessness that comes with riding in a truck bed.
Read More
Christa is, hands down, the most stoked-on-life person you’ll ever meet. Her positivity is absolutely unhinged—but in the most charming way possible. To be fair, she’s living her dream, combining surfing and swimming with her passion for photography in the most beautiful locations on earth. And she’s crushing it.
One of the world’s leading surf photographers and waterwomen, Christa, somewhat surprisingly, hails from the landlocked state of Colorado. She went to school at the Coast Guard Academy, where she competed as a distance swimmer—on top of the rigorous training that comes with attending the Academy. After graduating, she was stationed with the Coast Guard on Oahu for five years, and it was there she discovered the world of surf photography.
“I saw photographers in the water at Pipe and I thought, I can do that. I’ve swam my whole life and love being in the water.”
She’d been shooting photos since she was a kid—experimenting with film, learning her way around a darkroom—and found she had an eye for it. After five years of active duty in Hawaii, she transitioned full-time to surf photography. She started small, eventually working her way up to the famously intense waves at Pipeline and the Eddie Aikau Big Wave Invitational at Waimea Bay. Since then, Christa has climbed to the top of her field, making a name for herself as one of the toughest, hardest-working surf photographers in the world. And, notably, as one of the very few women out there.
“On big days,” she says, “there might be ten to twelve photographers out in the water, all vying for position. Most of us are friends—but you kind of have to get competitive about it. After all, we’re all there to get the best shot.”
At last year’s Eddie contest, Christa was out in the water longer than anyone else. First in, last out—for a total of eight hours. Just her, her fins, and her camera. While other photographers are positioned on jet skis, boats, or swimming in to take breaks, Christa is out there—wave after wave, shot after shot. Often getting pounded by 40 to 60-foot waves. Yet still, you’ll see Christa’s helmeted head and oversized camera housing bobbing up and down on the frothy surface.
Her discipline is evident in the way she prepares for a big event. It all starts in the off season, with early bedtimes and early morning workouts. She mixes strength training with swimming, surfing, and bodysurfing. She admits that she misses the black line at the bottom of a swimming pool every now and then—the constant, meditative pull of it.
“But, swimming back and forth in a calm pool is no way to mentally prepare me for a strong current or the impact of large waves,” she says.
The mental piece is by far the most important part of her preparation. Christa describes her mindset leading up to a big event, “I obsessively check the forecast. Then the two days before, I make sure all of my gear is in order, check the tide times, and then review everything again. The day before, if I'm not shooting or editing, I try to relax and rest as much as possible.”
“Day of, I’m telling myself to breathe. That I have everything ready to go. Then during, I try to let myself be genuinely excited to be out there shooting—but not so excited that I can't focus.”
Even with serious planning, she admits, you can still get caught in the zone. “You just gotta pay your dues. Remember to relax so you can keep your energy while you’re getting worked.”
Most of us couldn’t fathom putting ourselves in these dangerous situations—at the mercy of unpredictable swell, weighed down by 10-15 pounds of camera equipment. But Christa’s diligent preparation, athleticism, and unwavering positivity keep her coming back for more.
We pull up to the open-air Kona airport and spill out of Cyrus’s truck. We check our bags and there’s only about 30 minutes till our flight takes off. Mark suggests we grab a couple beers at the bar just on the other side of security. “F*ck yeah!” Christa says, before clapping her hand over her mouth, then cracking a giant grin.
Read Less