Each Moleta in that small boat is the centre of their own universe, with all of the complexity of action and relation and hope that each of us carries around in our heads. For that instant though, they were likely quite universally, collaboratively captivated by the excitement of where they have come from or are going to, and the thrill of being all together in the boat on a sunny day with the water gently lapping and ordinary labour set aside for the duration.

What do you do when you have equally warring instincts to conform to peaceful order, and to abandon convention and break the rules? I think that’s actually where photography positions me very comfortably. There’s a faithfully followed method to making a good exposure, placing sharpness, balancing composition. I know how to do those things. But in the same way that mum shakes the tin of her world, and chooses to make the best of where things have landed, sometimes I do too.