The Day my Camera Plunged into the Abyss
It was a cold, windy day in March, and I went with a friend to the Smithsonian Kite Festival to take a walk, and maybe put a kite up in the air. The weather was so bone-chilling, that after a half-hour of shivering, we ducked into the museums to get warm. My friend and I stood in line to get into the museum, along with hundreds of parents of crying kids, who also had their hopes of kite-flying dashed upon the frigid glacier of despair. I had a backpack and my camera in my hand. I was carrying my backpack instead of wearing it, because there was a large kite poking out of the back, and I didn’t want to impale anybody with it.
My friend and I were enjoying the beautiful exhibit of orchids at the Museum of Natural History and The Botanic Gardens. As we were walking on a bridge over a pond, I saw some orchids I wanted to shoot. The bridge was crowded with people, my hands were cold, and I fumbled for my camera, while balancing the awkward backpack. Then came the sound: “SPLOOSH!”
I could see air bubbles coming to the surface, and my heart sank along with my camera. It took about thirty seconds to negotiate my way around the handrail on the bridge and rescue my drowning friend. Water poured out of the camera’s orifices as I pulled it from the pond.
I quickly turned the camera off, and removed the battery and the memory card. When I got home, I put the camera on a warm radiator near an open window. I turned on a fan and a blow drier, and blew air over the camera, not into it. Many friends recommended putting the camera in rice, but I was afraid rice would damage the lens, or camera optics. I just used air. After two days of drying, I decided to try to see if the camera would work. I reinstalled the battery and memory card. A message came up on the screen of my camera: “ERROR”. I thought that was the end. I pressed the shutter button. The camera clicked, blinked, and emerged from its coma.
I felt like Dr. Frankenstein: “IT”S ALIVE !!”
The photos on the memory card were also intact, and I felt lucky, and grateful.
The next day, I went to my local camera shop and told them my story. They said I was indeed very lucky, and it was quite unusual that the camera still worked after what had happened. They also told me to hurry and take lots of photos, because the camera will still probably die soon. I believe that a camera is a tool, and if you use a tool a lot, it sometimes gets broken. I know sometimes doctors tell patients they only have a few months to live, and then they live for decades, defying all medical rationale. I can only hope my camera will survive. If not, I’ll get another one. Time will tell. Until then, I’m shooting every photo with this camera, as if it’s my last.
