I decided to pursue a hobby of assembling and operating radio-controlled model submarines, and made a sizeable expenditure of about $500 for my first sub kit, more than my normal budget.
After much time and effort, I finished the sub’s assembly and anxiously took it to a nearby pond. I was thrilled to see how well it maneuvered through the water. With such an excellent maiden voyage, I put the sub through more rigorous maneuvers. After one particularly steep dive, I pulled up on the control, waiting for the sub to surface, but nothing happened. I sent the rise signal again, but again, nothing. Terror was setting in. More attempts did nothing.
“MY BABY!” I cried out loud. Thinking about my $500 investment, I dove into the murky water with all my clothes on, and swam around in the area where I thought the sub may have gone down. The water was about 15 feet deep, had too much muck, and too many weeds to see anything.
Now completely panicked, I swam back to shore, jumped into my car and drove to a nearby Walmart. I sprinted to the sporting goods section. As I stood there fully clothed and dripping wet, I asked if they had diving masks. The salesperson looked at me oddly, but found a mask to sell me. I quickly made my purchase and sped back to the pond.
With the mask, I was able to find the sub lying in weeds at the bottom of the pond. Apparently, the sub had exceeded its recommended depth and had taken on enough water to prevent it from climbing to the surface. I had my baby back, and was able to make repairs. Future runs were made in the clear waters of swimming pools.
-John Van Orden