As any full-time glasses wearer knows, seeing underwater is only a thing if you can keep prescription swim goggles from fogging up.
This is not my strong suit, so I have a long history of being that dork in the swimming pool still wearing her glasses.
… There was more to this post, and some people have commented on it, but for some reason the internet has decided to eat it. I can’t remember exactly what I wrote before, but the upshot is that I’ve been driving along the Great Highway in San Francisco a lot lately and it has crept into my WIP novel.
I’m a nervous driver. On long, stressful drives through the city I’ve gotten in the habit of visualizing it underwater. Tall clumps of kelp forrest instead of the tall trees between the road and the ocean along some sections of the coast, like in that several-story viewing window at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Slow, syrupy currents instead of brisk winds. And maybe part of all this is that I’ve always wished I could see clearly underwater, but between either chlorine or salt and my poor vision that’s difficult to achieve.
So in my novel, where the sea level has risen quite a bit, the characters are going to visit a submerged San Francisco.