MeatCanyon

Just as I laid my hands on the first missile, my dive buddy said, Oh shit.

My stomach dropped.

I don't care how many times you've worked with an ordinance.

I sincerely believe you will always have that uncomfortable sensation in your gut and nervousness in the back of your mind.

I looked up and realized he wasn't talking about the missile.

He saw a wall of sand rising in the distance.

Something, hopefully just a current, was kicking up the sand from the bottom of the ocean.

The wall of sand was growing and was about 30 feet tall.

Even worse, it was approaching us.

Soon it was upon us.

It's hard to describe what bad visibility does in the water.

It's not a matter of not having enough light, it's a matter of too much crap in the water blocking the light.

Imagine fog, but imagine if you can that this fog is thicker than anything you've ever witnessed.

I'm talking about fog so thick that you can have a flashlight pointed at your eyes from an inch away, but you are completely blind to it.

That's what bad visibility is in the water.

The moment the sand hit us, we were engulfed in pure darkness.

I placed my hand against my faceplate, but couldn't even see it.

After a few moments, we began hearing a metallic scraping sound.

Then, as swiftly as it arrived, the sand was gone.

We had crystal clear waters again, except there was no sign of the missiles.