The GoPro Tragedy

The summer was in full swing and he was leaving in less than a week for the much- anticipated Cozumel adventure. Everything was set. The trip was paid for; the plane tickets were purchased. The packing list was together and everything on it had been assembled. The ride to the airport had been arranged, and now all that needed to be done was to wrestle the dive gear into a suitcase and throw some clothes in a carry-on. It was a beautiful sunny day and so he decided to get in some 55 degree ocean time for a good comparison to the 80 degree water he would soon be swimming in. He headed down to the ocean with his fiancée, she, paddling around on a surfboard, and he doing some free diving with his GoPro mounted on his head.

GoPros have been sweeping the nation since first sold in 2004. These cameras have been increasingly popular in the last couple of years due to their versatility, durability, and affordability. GoPros have become synonymous with adventure sports. Jake, the friend I mentioned earlier, has been Sky’s best friend and partner in crime since middle school. Between the two of them they always seem to have at least three GoPros and more ways to mount them than an octopus has arms. They have mounted GoPros on surfboards, skateboards, jet skis, cars, and their own bodies. Most recently they attached one to a quadcopter. Both their imaginations seem bound only by what they can do with these powerful little cameras, and that is why this story is aptly titled, “The GoPro Tragedy.”  

The water was cold but refreshing, the visibility murky and encasing, but it was just enough to dive down and scope out Santa Cruz’s sprawling kelp beds. Jake came up with a big exhale, having wriggled up through the giant kelp fronds and, slightly disoriented, turned to check in with his fiancée, Kelly. She had a quizzical expression on her face. He returned her gaze with his own questioning look. “Where’s the GoPro?” Kelly asked. The remaining color in his face, the ocean hadn’t stolen, was flushed away. He reached an arm up to his head and found the camera was missing. He spent the rest of the afternoon scouring the bottom of the ocean until the approaching marine layer occluded the last few moments of summer sun. The darker the water got, the more apparent it became that the camera was now the property of Davy Jones locker. Now, days before his very first dive trip, he was GoPro-less.

But as all tragedies end, it became the perfect justification to get the newest model of GoPro, with its IMAX-quality picture and mystical slo-mo. Jake, Sky, and I all left for Cozumel a few days later, Sky and Jake with their GoPros close at hand (or chest, head or stick). They both documented an incredible trip with amazing video and photos. And everyone learned a profound lesson, which one often hears repeated in the dive shop: “If you're going to wear your GoPro on your head, strap it on UNDER A HOOD!"