8.20.2009

In Memoriam

On an expedition in the Endurance to circumnavigate Diitabiki Island, I noticed a giant bird of paradise flower near the water. The leaves of this plant looked like a banana’s, but in the center rose a stem about fifteen feet high with perhaps seven pods about a foot in length each. The color of the pods was a light green, and the flowers inside were a dark yellow. This morning I rose early to take a picture. I placed my camera and its case in a new Ziploc bag and started out. I took several pictures of the bird of paradise and a few of Kumalu Nyan-nyan for the article below. I also saw some huge brown seedpods on a tree and took a few pictures of them.

You may be wondering why this article does not have a picture of the giant bird of paradise. As I placed my camera on my lap to paddle to a better position to capture the tree with the brown seedpods, the string caught on something, and my camera flew out of the boat, sinking to the murky depths. At once I thought of diving for it, but this would have required that I leave my canoe. My paddle could not reach the bottom, and already the current had carried me so that I was no longer sure where my camera had fallen.

The camera was a little old, but it had served me well through college in Michigan, during ski trips in Montana, Idaho, and Colorado, studies abroad in Italy and Turkey, and travels through Bulgaria, Hawaii, China, Minnesota, California, Ethiopia, North Carolina, Trinidad, and Suriname. Several times crises occurred in the life of my camera. While skiing in Montana, my dad, a few days after he had given me the camera, dropped it in wet snow. It survived. In Suriname a little over a year ago, I lost it in its black case in the forest, during a long hike, but I was fortunate enough to find it again. This morning, however, I bid farewell to a faithful companion that I had accidentally sent to a watery grave.

3 comments:

James Garriss said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
James Garriss said...

I hear trumpets playing softly in the background.

Sorry to hear about the camera. I hope you have possibilities for getting another. I'd like one of you extracting a crab from a crevice in the rocks. ;-)

Unknown said...

i identify with you my brother. In a moment of ill decision i too have sent a beloved camera into the depths of Lake minnetonka. the urge is strong pursue the lost treasure into the murk, but cooler heads prevail and logic tells you "not good". i feel the pain and mourn with you and trust it has found the great developer in the sky.