When I went to Antrim, I never intended to photograph waves.

I had a shortlist of places I wanted to visit, such as the Giant’s Causeway, Murlough Bay and Dark Hedges, and I knew I would take some photographs along the coast. But waves? Not on my list.

Antrim’s weather in March was… challenging. There were high winds, strong enough to cancel ferry crossings across the Irish Channel the day before I travelled. Accompanied by persistent rain, it made photography difficult.

It was on a day like this that I drove from Dunluce Castle to Portstewart. I was intending to photograph Portstewart Strand, a fantastic beach with a wide expanse of sand. But the strong winds and persistent rain meant that I didn’t have high expectations.

Passing through Portrush on the way to Portstewart, I was hit full in the face by the breakers at West Strand Beach. These were the most impressive waves I’d ever seen. I spotted a parking area a safe distance from the sea, and this coincided with a respite from the rain. This gave me the opportunity to pull over and see what I could make of it photographically.

I had a telephoto lens with me, as I was hoping to photograph wildlife while I was in Antrim. But it was the wild seas, not the wildlife, where this lens truly came in useful. At its longest focal length, the lens compressed distance to the point where I could make it look like I was almost standing inside these waves. The lens helped me remove wider clues to context (like the horizon) which in turn meant I could create images that were graphic and semi-abstract.

There are three reasons why this way of working was new to me.

First, I usually want my photography to capture a sense of place, but shooting wide didn't feel the right approach here. Instead, I wanted to zoom in on these waves, freeze their energy and capture their power.

Second, I usually want to spend time at a location. But the persistent rain meant I could photograph only between breaks in the weather.

And third, I usually like to revisit a location several times, to understand it better. But this was a one-off affair, unlikely to be repeated, certainly during my time in Antrim. This was about the moment, more like photographing a boxing match than photographing a landscape.

Portrush gave me nine minutes to wrestle with its weather before the next band of rain muscled in. In that time, I had taken about 200 photographs.

Looking at my camera's LCD, I didn’t appreciate just how dramatic these photographs would look on a larger screen. But it was a nine minute campaign that delivered the most unique photographs from my week in Antrim.

This is a lesson about photography I keep forgetting and then learning anew: make the most of the conditions you have; do not wait for the ones you wish you had.