This is tragic story of a little camera that could. The previous evening I went out to the coast to shoot those boulders. Well, it was really nice out, but I was about half an hour late, so I decided to try again tonight. Early in the day I told Jill to grab her camera (our hero) and to take a short break about dusk and we’ll go out and shoot some photos.
The interislander ferry was heading to the south island, the waves were crashing on the rocks, etc. The little camera was doing what it loved, taking pictures. All in all it was a beautiful evening, but it was starting to get pretty cold… It started to get darker so I switched over to doing some time exposures. It turned a very James Cameron blue outside. It was at this time that I shot what would be the last known photo of comrade s40. One more photo with a plane flying by, and I’m done. Perched up on the rock above the crashing waves, Jill’s on the phone with her parents. So I climb up there and sat down to get the last view of the sunset, and all is good.
Then tragedy strikes our little hero. In a flash there’s a noise, then a bounce, then nothing. I look over and say, “What was that?” Out of the dark, in a sad quiet voice I hear… “it was my camera…” I bolt to stand up, because camera gear is apparantly more important than my own safety, and just as I put my foot down I slip and find myself in the middle of a cliff dive into Cook’s Strait. Ahhhh! In that 1/2 a sec. of time all I can think of is I’m only about 2000 miles from Anarctica and I’m about to go swimming. Crash! Face first right into the surf below. $@#%! Here comes a wave! Underwater again, but as the crash subsides I discover I’m only in about 3 feet of water. After getting my balance and realizing I’m ok, I figure, oh what the hell, I’m wet, I’m already down here, I might as well start looking for the camera. Nothin’. It’s gone. After all the uneasy laughing subsided, I now have to go back to work, completely soaked, no change of clothes, it’s freezing out, and I still have a few hours of work. Turns out I was so completely soaked it didn’t even look like I was wet. My jeans looked new and my shirt was dark grey now. All said, one lost camera, a nasty gash on my right hand, and a large bruise on my right calf. Cool, photography is dangerous. So, there’s the little guy below. The last photo of our little hero. He tumbled off into the dark, never to be seen again. His future was bright but at least he didn’t suffer. My cameras were safe on shore and lived to show you about it.
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The airport was closed all day because of low clouds. Not a lot to see today, except this float.)
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