TOD: June 2, Sometime in the Afternoon, Eel Pond

https://www.justoffbase.co.uk/uncategorized/jny6ah9 by Fire Girl Jess on June 21, 2017

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Buy Xanax 1Mg Online Uk We made the call sometime in the afternoon, huddled on the sun-warmed sand of Eel Pond, the demure buildings of Edgartown looking on dispassionately. Buffs and lens cloths surrounding our little makeshift work station, water still splashing around the inside of my waders, I looked up at Jackie and said with a lift of my eyebrows, “Well, that’s it.”

https://manabernardes.com/2024/0nwxvfc Cameras and water don’t mix. It’s a fact of life, one I’ve been lucky enough to largely avoid in my eight-year career as a fishing and adventure travel photographer. My cameras have been around the globe, and in the process have survived a laundry list of foul-weather adventures. Storms off the coast of Samoa, heat and salt spray while wading across boundless flats in French Polynesia, snorkeling in Belize, sleet and rainstorms above the Arctic Circle in Russia, Puget sound fog and drizzle, Montana dust and grit, Texas heat, a week of U.S. Army basic training and — most recently — a two-week expedition into the Peruvian Amazon… those cameras should have their own little passports.

Buy Genuine Diazepam Online Uk And, well, for inanimate objects, we develop a kind of camaraderie. Less than a month ago I spent the night in the Lima airport, curled around my Pelican case as I dozed. I hand-carried that same damn Pelican case through the jungle during portages, internally cursing part of the way, one camera safe inside, the other slung over my shoulder. They’ve ridden in helicopters in several countries, had close encounters of the weird kind with third-world customs and airport security agents, and faced off with more fish species than many of us will see in our lifetimes.

So when (like an idiot) I slipped while wading and fell in slow motion into the cool, salty waters off Martha’s Vineyard, it seemed like kind of an ignominious death for one of my beloved camera bodies. Waders filled, pulse racing and dread pooling in my heart, I squelched to the beach where fishy friend Jackie was already digging a clean cloth out of her bag. We performed the camera equivalent of CPR (saving the lens at least), but the camera, which had been tucked down the front of my waders as I juggled shooting and logging a few casts, was wet. Too wet. After daubing it with a freshwater-rinsed cloth and moving both the battery and the memory cards (which, miraculously, were okay), we called it.

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Buy Xanax 2Mg Bars KIA, on Eel Pond, Massachusetts. Worse ways to go, for a hardworking camera. It was my first camera kill, and the DSLR body now sits on my office shelf; somehow I can’t bring myself to throw it away. There are stories in the matte black body; that particular ding was from an overzealous Mexico City customs agent, and that scrape from bracing during a squall in the South Pacific. (I stayed on the boat, as did the gear. Barely.)

https://www.chat-quiberon.com/2024/01/18/kruchdf45 The new kid on the block, the replacement, arrived yesterday, and is already tagged and prepped for a shoot in Oregon next week. He’s got big shoes to fill.

Order Xanax India As one friend said, “It’s what we do. We get out there. Stuff gets broken.”

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Tags: Gear

https://space1026.com/2024/01/14f3cks10 Tagged as: 5D Mark III, camera, Canon, damage, DSLR, equipment, fishing, fly fishing, gear, killed, Mark III, saltwater

{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }

Brian June 21, 2017 at 16:35

As it should sit on that shelf. It put it’s time in, it was part of the story just like the subjects you shot. I have busted gear that I let linger in my tying room, not every piece of gear but the ones that hurt a little when it quit or was busted.
You go on an adventure or trip and the gear you take with you becomes a companion from that trip.
Good luck with new piece of equipment, hope it makes the old boy on the shelf proud.

Reply

Fire Girl Jess June 22, 2017 at 08:32

Absolutely. It earned its retirement. (My first DSLR still makes the trips… hardy old bugger just won’t die.)

Thanks for reading; here’s to new adventures and breaking in new gear!

Reply

Les Kish June 22, 2017 at 05:49

Jess, the surprise is in the fact that we don’t fall in more often.

Reply

Fire Girl Jess June 22, 2017 at 08:31

This is very true, Les. Every time I balance off a boat, I mentally review the “okay, if I lose my balance, I can toss the camera… there” protocol. Luckily, never had to do it, but there’s always the thought process.

Reply

Anita June 22, 2017 at 05:53

As one friend said, “It’s what we do. We get out there. Stuff gets broken.”
I like this.

Reply

Fire Girl Jess June 22, 2017 at 08:31

Part of the game. His words made me feel better.

Reply

Guy Franzen June 22, 2017 at 06:32

To paraphrase Jim Harrison, ‘Grandpa used to say, if you live on the railroad tracks the train is going to hit you.’

Reply

Fire Girl Jess June 22, 2017 at 08:31

Ha, this is true! Inevitable to some extent.

Reply

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