Thanks for this thread, Amphiprion. Here are a few of my diving losts and founds:
Some may think that a pair of bikini bottoms may have been the strangest item I have lost. The Gulf Stream somewhere near the middle Keys took that bikini bottom away, though I still have the top to match it. Luckily I had a towel and more of a need to cover up than to dry off in order to get back into the diveboat. I'm still on the lookout for that bikini top when I dive near Miami.
I've also lost a small portable ladder; my alternative to get to safety was to climb up the stern near the prop. As I did so, I cut a 2-inch gash into my left inner thigh on the prop. Not a safe way to get to safety. Good thing one of our dive crew
was competent in first aid--she applied a topical remedy and a couple of butterfly bandages.
I lost the butterfly bandages when I went back into the salt water; I am still in possession of the scar.
Hmmm...the subjects of my lost items thus far are going in one borderline direction for a family site...I'll change it.
I lost the use (only for a short time, thank heavens) of a new wetsuit, (ok, this is about clothes; I TRIED to change the subject here) and had to forego a great quarry dive. I had neglected to try on the new wetsuit prior to going to a dive in a rock quarry in Pennsylvania. The scenery was beautiful--that quarry is like a deep stream with vertical rock cliffs on either side. With no spare suit at the time, I spent that day exploring the woods while my friends had a great time practically floating down the rock quarry stream.
After that wetsuit had been fixed, we went back to the same rock quarry for a few more days' diving. Lesson was learned. I do love quarry dives and cave dives--great diving even if nobody can see the fins of the diver in front of you. (Split or not, multicolored or glowing.) Zero visibility in the water is absolutely worthwhile when you can surface and float between exceptionally high vertical cliffs and look up at the sliver of a clear blue sky.
Lost head (in a manner of speaking). Another time, I almost lost my head when escorting a male friend from the diveboat to an island by swimming and walking over jagged coral. A small school of barracuda came along and my friend had a panic attack. He kept screaming, and couldn't decide if he should feverishly splash his way back to the diveboat or to continue to panic and choose the shore to leave the barracuda behind. He may have even opted for the open ocean, nobody ever asked.
I tried to calm him by screaming back at him to stop splashing and to begin to float immediately or I was going to leave him and save myself. I realized that was a risky threat, (and not a wise tactic to employ). He did, however, finally follow my screamed directions. I swam back to the diveboat dragging him by one of his ankles.
We are both alive thus far. No fish attacked us but I'm pretty certain they all had a great laugh. That particular situation was much more frightening when I really thought about it later.
I did have a brief notion of smacking my hysterical friend, but not until I got him safely out of the water. I did give him a drink instead. He gave me another safety feature to add to my checklist. I now try to find out in an unobtrusive manner if any prospective dive buddy has panic attacks at the site of a few barracuda, or even guppies.
Another unusual item which I lost *could be considered dive equipment

* was a very big 'tilt-type' bottle of Chivas Regal. The Gulf Stream claimed that piece of after-dive equipment too. We came upon a 38' fishing vessel, and pulled close for a conversation. The owner had run out of her Chivas and asked if we had any on board; I offered ours.
As I lowered the bottle down to the other vessel in a net-type bag, I let go of the string and the person catching it let the bag and bottle fall of out of his hands and into the Gulf between Miami and Bimini.
Luckily, we also had Dewars and other Scotches aboard, and the second transaction of Dewers was successful. Happily, the other boating party belongs to the same club to which we belong, and we exchanged information and met that evening for a great dinner.
Lost was the "tilting" bottle of Chivas; we all gained new bridge-playing friendships--and we've been trying to get them to become certified. Our newly found friends (who had requested the Chivas) brought chocolates, champagne, and a replacement bottle for both the Chivas and the Dewars to dinner as a "Thank You". Their bridge game is as excellent as their manners and generosity.
Much more dive equipment has been lost over the years, but the above are the funniest and most unusual to me. More has always been gained and learned than lost.
seapanther