This really wasn't a Daring Divers from Hell trip in the literal sense: this time we were just "hangers on." This trip was organized by the good folks at Divepoint Scuba in Stevens Point, Wisconsin. What, you may ask, is the connection between the DDfH and Divepoint Scuba? Daring Diver Randy and his lovely wife, Karen, live in Stevens Point, and Divepoint is their local scuba / outdoor adventure shop. Sometime back during the summer, Randy sent out an email to all his dive buddies telling us about this planned trip to Bonaire in October. At the time I declined because I was going bicycling through France and I didn't think it would go over too well at work for me to take two weeks off work to go to France, come back for a week, then leave again for another vacation trip.
But the mystical forces of the universe smiled down upon me: on August 28 I found out I was getting laid off. Now most of you might be thinking that getting laid off is BAD news. But not me. I had been playing "who blinks first" with EarthLink for about four years. I wanted to quit, but kept telling myself to ride it out and eventually they would lay me off and give me a severance package. You know: "pay me to quit." At long last my dreams came true. So within a week I had bought airline tickets and "leeched my way" into the Bonaire trip.
Apparently, the "normal" way to get to Bonaire is to go to Houston, then take a red-eye to the island. This worked out well: it means that the entire group would be meeting in the Houston airport, then catching the same flight to Bonaire. This meant that I would get a chance to meet the entire gang before arriving in Bonaire.
But there was one (very pleasant) surprise in store when I reached Houston: when I got off my plane and strolled into the terminal, there was Daring Diver Jim! He hadn't told ANYBODY that he would be joining us. In fact, he had been moaning constantly in emails about how bummed he was going to be to miss out on the trip. Something about that darned work thing cramping his style. But at the very last minute he bought a ticket and just showed up. How cool was THAT??!
There was one very big disadvantage to the whole "red-eye" thing: the dive resort (Buddy Dive Resort) didn't have our rooms ready when we got there. So we had roughly 15 very burned out people with no place to go. Check out the "action shots" in the pictures. People were dozing off to sleep wherever they could find a chair. I actually have to ding Buddy Dive on this one. They didn't have any place for us to check our luggage, and once the rooms were ready we had to lug it to our rooms by ourselves. And at the end of the trip, we had to lug all the stuff back up to the front desk. At 4am!!! But other than that minor inconvenience it was a pretty great trip.
It's been nearly two months since the trip as I write this, so I
probably have forgotten some good stories. But here are my memories
from the trip:
We were looking for a dive site named Barcadera. But we
hadn't yet got the hang of the finding the little yellow stones that
mark the dive sites, so we ended up doing a dive at a place that wasn't
really an official site. Again, I blame the lack of sleep. Anyhoo, it was
a REALLY tough entry / exit. Bonaire in general has some challenging
shore entries because it is largely "iron shore", not nice, soft, sandy
beaches. But this particular place was "challenging" even by Bonaire
standards. And just to make things a little more difficult, the surf
was up when we did the dive. Long story short: Karen got a pretty good
scrape on her leg. Not life-threatening or anything, but pretty nasty
looking. A nice "red badge of courage." Oh well, it gave us material
for the ceremony when we inducted her into the DDfH. And it increased
our chances of attracting sharks.
Now indulge me while I digress for a moment and impart just a tiny bit of one of Tim's philosophies of life. Whenever I make a decision of any significance, I always try to identify the worst case scenario and make sure I'm OK with it. It doesn't mean I EXPECT the worst case scenario to happen. I just want to be "emotionally prepared" for it, and make sure I'll be OK with it if it should come to pass.
In this case, I'm talking about dissecting my camera in the hopes of fixing it. I didn't think it very likely that it could be fixed. Much more likely that I would destroy it completely. I had to make sure I was not gonna go off the deep end if I completely destroyed the camera. But the more I thought about it, the more I was willing to risk it. In its current condition, the camera was only good for taking snapshots on land. There were plenty of other people with cameras who could do that, so if I destroyed my camera I wasn't really losing all that much. At least, not on this trip. Also, my camera is pretty old by digital camera standards. It's a 4 megapixel Canon S400 Digital Elph. I bought it in 2002 for the Honduras trip. In the digital camera universe, 5 years old is ANCIENT. So I consider the camera to be "fully depreciated" at this point. I decided that the worst case scenario was that I would have to buy a new camera. I've been thinking of doing that anyway, so I really wasn't risking all that much. I decided to forge ahead.
After dinner, Randy and I fixed ourselves some nice, stiff rum punches and got to work. Luckily, I had remembered to bring along my jeweler's screwdrivers. I had neglected to take them along on the DDfH trip to the Philippines back in the spring, and it had turned out that I needed them. So this time I remembered to pack them. We completely disassembled the camera and had it spread out on the coffee table. Upon careful inspection, we found that one of the contacts on the knob that controls the camera's mode was bent. Randy very carefully bent it back into what looked like the proper shape, and we reassembled the camera. No joy. The camera was still stuck in automatic mode.
So we disassembled it again. Randy studied it carefully for a minute, and came up with a very cogent observation: it appeared that the contacts had gotten smooshed (is that a word?) flat when I dropped it. They were no longer touching the metal contacts against which they were supposed to seat. So Randy VEEERRRRYYYY carefully bent them out again, giving them some "arch". Again we reassembled the camera. You could cut the tension with a knife. Oh, who am I kidding? There wasn't any tension whatsoever. Nobody was even paying any attention to us. Plus, by this time we'd had a couple of those rum punches, and we were pretty much beyond caring anyway.
But the damn thing worked! I was ECSTATIC. I was strutting around the living room high-fiving everybody. Randy was less impressed than I was: "No sweat. Piece o' cake!" I guess, realistically, that I should have expected that out of Louie Schukar's son. Nothing can get so broken that you can't fix it with a decent field repair, right Randy?
This was our last day of diving, and I hated the idea of those two "fog" dives being my last dives of the trip. I wanted to do another dive. In the afternoon the weather cleared, so it looked promising. I managed to talk Jim into going out with me for a final dive. Which leads me to...
So by the time we got to the water it was nearly dusk. By the time we got out to the reef there was hardly any light left. And like COMPLETE MORONS we had not bothered to bring our dive lights along! So after about 15 minutes, we were out of light and had to give up on the dive.
When we got back to the resort, everybody asked us how the dive was. I thought about it for a second, then answered: "It was 90 percent complete waste of time, and 10 percent humorous misadventure."
At least I came up with a way to get Karen to laugh out loud....