Pelican Yacht Club
Christina & Jack's Wedding

Getting Ready — The Lakeside Cabin

The getting-ready location at Pelican Yacht Club is a knotty-pine cabin directly on the property — the kind of room where the walls smell like summer and the lake light comes through the window sideways. Jack was there in the morning, tying the laces on his brown Oxford shoes while his groomsmen moved in and out around him. He was in a light grey suit from Moores with a champagne tie, and he had on the kind of fun socks that only groomsmen notice and only wedding photographers document.

Christina's morning had more weight to it. Her details were laid out on a wooden table — a green velvet double-ring box holding all three rings, a bottle of YSL Black Opium, white strapped heels, pearl jewellery, and the hand-lettered vow book she would read from later at the arbor. The engagement ring is a family heirloom solitaire that has been in her family for a generation. Alongside it: a diamond wedding band. Jack's gold band came from Peoples Jewellers. Before anyone put them on, I photographed all three together resting on the canvas of a sailboat oil painting that hung in the cabin. Three rings on a seascape. That shot was not staged — that painting was just there, on the wall, waiting.

Hair was Karyn Cruden; makeup was Genevieve DeGagne. Christina's gown is from Essense of Australia — a lace V-neck spaghetti-strap fit-and-flare with a cathedral train, found at Bliss Bridal Boutique in Winnipeg. Her bouquet, designed by Callia, was entirely white: chrysanthemums, dahlias, and roses, built to hold its shape in the July heat and catch the prairie light when she walked down the aisle.

The First Look on the Hill

We did the first look on the hillside above Pelican Lake — the high point of the Pelican Yacht Club grounds where the water spans the full width of the horizon. Jack stood facing the lake, waiting. Christina walked up behind him through the grass. When he turned, she was there in the full lace cathedral gown, white bouquet in hand, and Pelican Lake stretched out behind her all the way to the far shore. His face did the thing that faces do in first look moments — that involuntary stillness, followed by the wide smile that comes before he has words for it.

It is the shot I travel two and a half hours for. The kind of frame where the lake is the third person in the picture.

The Ceremony at Pelican Yacht Club

The ceremony site at Pelican Yacht Club is built into a manicured hillside above the lake. A wooden square arbor — sage-green muslin draped across the top bar, a burgundy and blush floral arrangement anchored in the corner, pampas grass at the base — stands on the grass with Pelican Lake filling the entire space behind it. White folding chairs curve into rows. A large oak tree anchors the left edge. And to the right, an antique rusted red truck sits on the property like a permanent piece of folk art, unhurried and unmoving.

Officiating was Danny Kustra — a family friend who was also handling the lighting for the evening. He wore sunglasses for the ceremony. There is something different about having someone who knows you well hold the ceremony: the words feel lived-in before they are spoken.

The bridesmaids arrived first, in a deliberate mix of sage, teal, dark green, and dusty rose — mismatched by design, each carrying baby's breath and sunflowers. They had come from Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta, which is worth naming: this wedding pulled people across three provinces. The flower girls followed in mint sage dresses with floral headbands, walking perfectly, the way flower girls somehow always do.

Then Christina. The lace train catching the July light. Her bouquet of white dahlias and chrysanthemums from Callia held out in front of her. And at the right edge of the wedding party — sitting perfectly still, wearing a floral collar that matched the arbor arrangements — their dog. He was there for the whole ceremony, and he was excellent at it.

Christina read her vows first. She had them written in a small notebook and held the microphone herself. The lake was behind her, visible between the arbor posts. Jack listened with his hands at his sides and did not look away once. When the rings went on, I was positioned to get the water in the background. The first kiss landed with bridesmaids reaching for each other, groomsmen grinning wide, guests on their feet, and the dog sitting very still at the edge — regal and unbothered.

Family & Wedding Party Portraits

Post-ceremony formals spread across the Pelican Yacht Club grounds. Christina's father wore a navy plaid checked suit with a teal tie — one of the better father-of-the-bride suits I have encountered — and stood with her at the arbor while the antique red truck anchored the background. Jack's mother arrived in pink for her moment at the arbor. The two flower girls, still in perfect mint sage dresses with floral headbands, posed with the couple and the arbor in a frame that looked like it was from a film.

The standout from this section of the day: Christina knelt at the arbor with their dog — a brindle Malinois mix wearing the white floral collar from the ceremony — and the two of them held still long enough for a portrait. The dog was calm, attentive, and photographically aware in a way that most humans are not. It is one of the best dog portraits I have made at a wedding.

The big wedding party group shot was taken up the hill, where the grounds rise and Pelican Lake spans the width behind the entire party. Everyone in the shot, lake behind them, arms around each other — that one went black and white and it has the kind of scale that only this venue gives you.

Portraits on the Hillside

The parasol session on the hillside is one of those ideas that exists as a concept and then arrives as something better. The bridesmaids each had a parasol. Christina had the heart-shaped sunglasses. From a low angle, the bridesmaids raised their parasols over their faces — every face hidden behind white fabric — while Christina stood visible in the centre, lake behind her, sunglasses on, laughing. The film version of that image is different from the digital: warmer, grainier, a little closer to the feeling of the afternoon.

The portrait of Christina on the hillside — laughing, bouquet at her side, Pelican Lake filling the background — is the one I print for the studio wall. The lace back of the Essense of Australia gown, the July light off the water, the unguarded laugh: that is the image that makes people ask where this was taken and then say, genuinely surprised, that it is in Manitoba.

From Above — The Drone Sessions

I flew the drone throughout the day at Pelican Yacht Club. This is not a venue where drone photography is optional — it is the only way to see the full scope of what you are working with. From altitude, you understand the scale: the ceremony hillside, the marina below, the lake extending in every direction past the treeline, and beyond it, open Manitoba prairie to the horizon. No Winnipeg venue gives you this. Nothing in the city gives you this.

The early afternoon shots show the property as guests were arriving — the ceremony setup on the hill, white chairs catching the sun, the marina dock below and the masts of the sailboats lined up in rows. By evening, the light on the water shifted into something I have not seen before at a wedding: a lake-specific golden hour, where the entire surface of Pelican Lake becomes a mirror for the Manitoba sky.

The drone image from this wedding that I know will travel: Christina and Jack lying side by side on the long wooden marina dock, shot directly from above. Teal water on either side. Weathered dock boards. White hulls of the sailboats framing them like parentheses. Both of them looking up at the drone, completely at ease. That image is the cover of this wedding.

The Marina & Sailboat Portraits

The Pelican Yacht Club marina is a working yacht club — not a decorative one. At dusk on a July evening, the sailboat masts lined up in rows above the dock, the pink and purple sky reflected in the still water of the marina, the whole thing holding its breath before the evening properly began. I got the wide shot from the end of the dock and it is one of the most beautiful venue establishing shots I have in my portfolio.

One of the boats moored in the marina is called Harmony. Christina and Jack climbed onto the bow — her in the cathedral gown, him in the grey suit — and I worked from the dock and from the water level. Sailboats behind them, sky overhead. That is the photo that goes on the mantle.

The Lake — Christina Goes In

We took a canoe out onto Pelican Lake at golden hour. I followed at altitude with the drone. The canoe moved out into open water — Christina in the cathedral gown, Jack paddling, the entire surface of the lake lit gold from the west. From above, the white of the dress against the teal water and the wooden hull of the canoe was a frame I could not have imagined before seeing it.

Then Christina went in.

I do not know exactly when the decision was made. The canoe was in open water, well out into the lake. And then she was in it — wedding dress and all, holding the paddle, the gown spreading around her on the surface of Pelican Lake. I caught the B&W aerial from altitude: the white dress fanning into the dark water, her arms steady, the paddle in her hand. It is one of the most striking images I have made in years of doing this work.

Jack went in after her. The canoe rocked. Both of them swimming in the lake in their wedding clothes, in July, with half the wedding party watching from shore and the drone overhead. They swam toward the marina. At some point — shoulder-deep in the water among the moored sailboats — they kissed. I had the camera at water level. The hulls of the boats above them. The late blue light. That frame is everything this venue is.

They came up to the dock. Someone handed Christina a short white mini dress. Jack lost the jacket. They stood on the dock holding a "JUST MARRIED" banner while their friends — several of whom had also gone in — cheered from shore. Blue hour came in. The water went dark and still. The masts of the sailboats disappeared into the evening. I flew the drone one last time over the dock and made the final aerials of the night.

The Film Gallery

This wedding was also shot on film — developed and scanned. Film does something particular on a day like this: the lake takes on a warmth it doesn't quite have digitally, the greens of the ceremony hillside go a touch more muted, and skin tones in the evening light land somewhere between amber and rose. The grain in the parasol series on the hillside adds to the feeling of the afternoon in a way that digital sharpness removes. These are the images from the same day, interpreted differently.