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What's the dumbest thing I've ever done in photography? That's an easy one.
About fifteen years ago I was out on my bass boat on a beautiful, calm Minnesota lake. The day was spectacular but the fish weren't cooperating. I'd fished for about four hours, changing artificial baits ten or twenty times, all with no luck.
Then a Loon (an extremely beautiful and photogenic water bird) surfaced only ten feet from my boat, making me think that the expedition wasn't going to be a complete bust. I usually put my camera bag in the boat just in case the resident Bald Eagle or Osprey decides to make an appearance, or the sunset is special so I grabbed the bag from it's place in a watertight cabinet, put a short telephoto on my (then) best Minolta and got some nice shots.
The Loon soon tired of watching me and departed so I went back to fishing. Being a lot dumber than I am today (I fervently hope) I left the camera bag open on the floor, directly below my huge, open tackle box.
Then it happened. Finally, a fish hit my bait and I fought it for about ten minutes. It turned out to be a very nice, approximately nine pound, Northern Pike which I landed.
The fish had five out of six treble hooks firmly into his mouth, making extraction difficult but I finally freed the bait. This left the large, motionless fish lying on the floor of the boat.
Northern Pike are (I know NOW) kind of like sharks in that they will lie motionless for long periods and then "come to life", thrashing and flipping into the air with great vigor. This would be no great problem except that their mouths are loaded with needle-like teeth that can rip skin and flesh with barely a touch.
I jumped back to avoid the teeth, stepped into my open camera bag and SAT on my open tackle box. Since the box fairly bristled with sharp hooks (on maybe a hundred artificial baits) I stood up even faster than I'd sat down and in the process tipped the tackle box into the camera bag.
I had hooks in my butt and leg, the fish was still thrashing around, now with various baits hooked in his side, and the camera bag was full to overflowing with baits.
I got the fish into a live well without further damage to my tender hide, dug out my wire cutters (found in the camera bag), cut and removed the hooks from my backside and headed back to my dock.
She Who Must Be Obeyed (my wife for those of you who don't watch Rumpole of the Bailey on PBS) was shocked at first, seeing all the blood on the back of my pants and in the boat seat, but once she'd heard my story and knew I wasn't seriously injured, she grinned and said, "Bet that smarts."
The fish didn't survive (but he was delicious). My butt healed in a couple of weeks and my pride a few months later. It took about two days to separate my camera equipment from all those hooks and other fishing equipment but nothing was damaged except a bunch of baits that had their hooks cut to remove them from the camera bag fabric.
I have NEVER again left my tackle box OR camera bag open while fishing, and when I open the camera bag on the boat, I ALWAYS put it back into a compartment before even thinking of fishing again.
Photographing Arizona in winter, Minnesota in summer and in-between twice a year
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