My Pelican 1620 case is scarred, scraped and covered in dive stickers that look like aged tattoos on an old war veteran. For me, this case is like a mighty fortress for my delicate tools of the photo trade. No matter what siege of huns or orcs the travel world can dream up, this case has beaten back the wave after wave of attacks without yielding one single casualty. Wyland once even used my 1620 as a painting stand, and it bears his signature as proof of the day's duty. Although Pelican makes expedition-quality hard cases of all sizes for explorers, firemen, Navy SEALs, and every other unforgiving job in life, it's the 1620 that has found a special place in my dive arsenal. Not only does it lock watertight and float (with 150 pounds of gear in salt water) like all Pelican cases, but it also rolls (I'm fundamentally and ideologically unable to move bags without wheels). The handle extends so I can wheel the little black bastion anywhere and maintain that certain savoir-faire and ease that makes it appear as if I'm in control, even when I'm completely lost.
It comes with either high-density Pick-and-Pluck foam or padded inserts. I prefer the padded inserts, but I need the kind of flexibility inserts offer. The 1620 also manages to just sneak under the 75-pound international baggage limit, even when packed with my gear, so for my purposes, it's just the right size at approximately 24 by 19 by 13 inches. The case is also tested to military standards, and Pelican stands by its promise: "You break it, we replace it." I keep trying, but so far my bag has merely scoffed at the rigors of the dive life.
I also once tried to surf with one of Pelican's other big cases, the 1650, but that is another story.