I have a distinct memory as a kid growing up in Pennsylvania what a big deal it was to go to Florida for vacation. You have to understand that even though we were just a few hours from places like Baltimore’s Inner harbor and Ocean Cities Maryland and Delaware, there’s really nothing like the coastline of the Sunshine State.
We’d pass through D.C., on into tobacco country and then, there it was: the Welcome Center at the Florida state line. It was like the Promised Land. Every time we stopped there I grabbed the same brochures: Sea World & MarineLand. That was all that mattered to me. It didn’t matter that we still had hours to go to reach our destination; as far as I was concerned, we had arrived in a new, very humid, citrus-smelling foreign country. I was only days away from seeing whales and dolphins and, most of all, sharks. All from behind eight inches of plexiglas, mind you.
But here’s the thing: having crisscrossed the globe several times and been bit, bumped, scraped and charged by just about every sea creature you can imagine with an attitude, I still haven’t lost contact with the wide-eyed 6-year old inside of me that is still very in touch with that intangible joy that is the ocean and everything in it. And as I discovered at OceanFest, I still really get a kick out of hanging in Florida. Doesn’t matter that I’ve traded the 20-odd hour drive in a Caprice Classic with my family for a short flight to downtown; when i step off the plane and out of the terminal and that hot, familiar air hits me, my heart still leaps.
I was alone amongst the Liquid Assets team this time around in that this was my first experience with OceanFest. Jesus, what’s taken me so long? Neal Watson … this cat knows how to put on a dive show. Seriously — anyone can rent a posh hotel ballroom downtown (you know who you are) or a massive convention center on the outskirts of a major city (you definitely know who you are), but Oceanfest takes the daring step of actually setting up the show about diving on the, uh, beach … Novel, right?
The weather held up perfectly for us as we hung out in the giant party tents with all the other vendors, chatting with locals and getting a bit of frisbee going during low traffic points. Honestly, there wasn’t a whole lot of that. This show was what you’d call “steady.” The breeze off the waves only a few hundred yards away kept our spirits high and in a chatty mood. The gas tank of rum punch we had at the booth probably didn’t hurt, either.
Oh, and by the way — when was the last time any of you north of the Mason/Dixon line went to a dive show that was a) outdoors, b) had a live band playing at the front gate or, most importantly, c) had a steady stream of bikini-clad attendees covered in Mardi Gras beads saunter by. This is my life, people. These days it usually doesn’t suck.
Beyond the general this-show-rocks that pervades this entire entry, it behooves me to share with you 3 Kodak moments from the show:
1. The Bahia Bar & Grill. Right across the street from the show. Within walking (i.e. stumbling) distance from our hotel I highly recommend their chicken finger dinner and their Jagerbombs. One or both will facilitate ending the night in either a mirrorball jacket while wearing sunglasses, or closing down the bar with the gang from Scuba Radio. Or both.
2. We had record dive-show attendances at both of our seminars in Fort Lauderdale, where I was inundated with questions ranging from what camera format we’re shooting with to things like “what kinds of whales do y’all see down in Turks?” To everyone who attended and showed the most enthusiasm of any dive show — thank you. No inquiry was too great or too small. I was honored to share my time with you.
3. We finally got a chance to meet some of the people going out on the Turks boat this fall while we’re on board shooting and I have to tell you, folks, judging by the ones that showed up in Fort Lauderdale, this is going to be a very, very good-looking group. “Eye candy,” I believe, is the expression I’m looking for.
It was just an amazing weekend. I’m looking forward to going back in less than a year. I’d highly recommend anyone make it part of your Spring 2009 vacation plans.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be David Lee Roth and Jaques Cousteau. I wanted to spend my days in the ocean, awed by its beauty and then throw the best party on the block once the diving day was over. Turns out that if and when I decide to grow up, I can be both: I can be Neal Watson.
Talk about a lofty goal … -Aaron Faulls
Currently listening to: U2 - POP
David Morales & Tamra Keenan - Here I Am (Kaskade Remix)
Wow.
California represents all the best and worst about America. It’s big, wide, varied, has so much opportunity. It’s crime-ridden, choked with suburbs, stuffed with silicone, sitting in gridlock traffic and tanned to a golden brown. It’s harsh and unforgiving. It’s laid back and easygoing. It is the multicultural face of this country, from East L.A. to Beverly Hills, from Orange County to South Central. It has mountains and deserts, snowy peaks and a surf break that is legendary. There is everything to love and hate in California. I choose to love it. All of it.