This is a lovely picture of Hood Canal at Sund Rock. The gray in the corner is the hood of my truck, on which my camera is perched.
Just before setting out for Washington, I realized that my belief that all three of my tanks were full, was incorrect. But YSS helped me out.
Then there was a Sund Rock dive that was worth commemorating with a photo. My truck was parked nose to the water, so I put the camera on the hood and set the ten second timer. Trundling around to the front in my heavy, wet gear, I tried to quickly find a rock on the rip rap on which to stand. But this was not to be. My perch being unstable, and my pose ungainly, I pitched over to the side, and was glad for the cushioning effect of insulating layers.
Three thoughts went through my mind. First, was anyone watching this debacle? No, thank goodness—I was the only one there. Second, did the camera miss this little farce as well? No such luck there; my foot is indeed flying up into the air, for all future iCloud archeologists to see. Third, as I lay on the ground with my head angled down, and my heavy gear on top of me, already pooped out from my dive, I wondered if my skeleton might someday be found there, wrapped in gear, leaving people to wonder if I was some sort of unfortunately washed up underwater dive attraction. Washed up, maybe, but by the grace of handy buckles I extricated myself successfully.
Then, following a second dive, this one with my obstinate and disobedient dive buddy Blacktip, an idea came to me. It was a familiar idea, involving a camera. Being intrepid and clueless (an unfortunate combination), I tried the photo again. With better luck, happily.
Then it was off for a huckleberry milkshake.
