Lens came back last Wednesday and looks like new. After a back ordered part, Canon chose to replace my 5d3 with a new camera, it arrived today. My hat is off to the Canon service center... they went well beyond what was required of them.
After going round and round with the insurance company, they finally agreed on 60% coverage. Hey, it's better than nothing... so all turned out better than I had hoped.
So... I'm thinking another trip down Ten Mile Creek... HA! Maybe not
Also Canon said this one will swim no better than the other one... LOL
Had a close call today with my 5DIII and 100-400. Was covering a pheasant shoot. We were just getting going on the first patch when, WHUMP! It was as if Mike Tyson had punched me on the top of my head.
For the first split second I didn't know what day of the week it was. Then, quite quickly I realised a shot pheasant had come down and nailed me fair and square. It was at that point that the jelly legs kicked in. I staggered off, doing some kind of weird dance, which was imitated later in the pub by everyone who witnessed it .
If only I had been on level ground... however, I was on the top of a bank. Gravity then played its card, and I headed off down the bank, which bottomed-out in a shallow depression that in summer would be bone-dry and bone-hard. However, in December, with a good day's rain behind us, it culminated in 8 inches of water.
It was as if fate had drawn me towards it. Not satisfied with half braining me with a pheasant, fate said: "No, that's not enough. You also need to get wet." And so, on bottoming-out, the jelly legs finally gave way and pitched me lengthways into the ditch. The last time something like this happened (I was fishing - no camera), my instinct was to try to save myself from a ducking and I ended up breaking my leg. This time, my instinct turned to saving the camera, and by doing so I took the ducking and avoided any re-occurrence of the leg fiasco.
So, there I was, lying in the freezing cold water, my right arm outstretched, clutching the camera clear of the water, like the Sword in the Lake of Arthurian legend. It took a few moments to gather my senses, by which time the guy who brought the pheasant down was lifting me out the ditch.
That was the end of the shoot (in both senses) for me - thank goodness for heated car seats!
All's well that ends well