Four Words
May 15, 2006
Yesterday started as a lazy Sunday. Woke up late, getting a much-needed great night’s sleep. Had lunch with very cool friends including a refreshing glass of my favorite watermelon juice. Then we headed off to the beach. There was a crowd that had gone down earlier in the day and we were happy to be meeting up with them. When we got there around 3:00pm, we found that they had trashy magazines. The plan was to take a dip and then settle into the elicit lives of celebrities…what better way to spend a Sunday?
However, we soon saw that B and G had just taken off in the little boat that B and R had recently acquired. R had gone snorkeling and free-diving on his own about two hours before and hadn’t come back, so they’d gone to look for him. We weren’t particularly worried. R is an adventurous guy…hell, he free-dives (diving to about 20 meters with no equipment). He’s a strong swimmer and probably just got tired somewhere, got out of the water up the beach and was walking back. Or maybe he found some folks to chat with along the way.
As time went on, cars were sent out to check the long beach. The two boats nearby were sent out again. They all came back without R. Worry started to vaguely set in. No one really thought anything would have happened to R. Not him, he could take care of himself. But enough worry set in that we called the police and the local diveshop. Within an hour, a full Search and Rescue effort was underway. There was a boat combing the waters and a helicopter was soon in the air in case he had been swept out too far. Two groups of divers went down at 5:30 and 6:00pm. Just before 7:00pm, it was too dark to continue looking.
Things didn’t look good. There was now just a lingering hope that we may ever find R. Thinking was starting to move towards hoping that we found his body at all.
This morning, I headed to the airport at 6:00am to join a small group of UN staff who would serve as spotters from the 2 UN helicopters that were organized and coordinated with the boats and divers in the sea below.
Somehow hope was revived for me. These are warm waters. After all, I heard a story on the news last night that a person is expected to live about 5 hours in 12 degrees Celcius water. Our waters are about 27 degrees Celsius at the shore. So, R could possibly survive overnight if he had just been caught up by strong currents.
As we lifted off in the two helicopters for our Search and Rescue effort this morning, we worried that it may be hard to see him in his black wetsuit. My Search and Rescue inexperience had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to see him under the sea. As soon as I saw the first little fishing boat below, the size of a tiny toothpick, I realized that I wasn’t going to be looking under the sea. We would be lucky if we saw him on the surface. That is all we could possibly hope for. And hope I did. With every second of my intense gaze, I was thinking “come on R, where are you?” I wondered if he would be floating on his back, barely hanging on and waiting to be found or if he’d find some energy when he heard us overhead and wave his arms wildly.
After an hour and half, the helicopter had to make another scheduled run so we landed. A couple of us went off for breakfast and came back at 10:00 to go up again. At 10:30 about 8 of us headed back up for the third helicopter run of the day. The pilot announced we’d go up along the coast to the beach to where he disappeared and then head out to the nearest island and snake our way back and forth for another hour.
We lifted off, made our way to the beach and circled around. It didn’t quite click that we weren’t following the planned route, but it crossed my mind that we weren’t headed out to the island. But I had lost my bearings a bit and was staring too intently at the waters below to give it a second thought. About 2 minutes later, the guy sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder, mouthing “found him” and giving me a thumbs up.
Relief? Panic? What did that mean? Now it was clear to me that we were heading back to the airport…but how did they find him? Was he dead? Was he alive?
My friend was lightly holding up her phone to signal she’d received a text message and I gestured to her to pass me the phone. ‘What did it say exactly?’ I was thinking. Does it tell us if he’s alive or dead?
It said just four words.
“Body Found. Come Back”
Yesterday started as a lazy Sunday. Woke up late, getting a much-needed great night’s sleep. Had lunch with very cool friends including a refreshing glass of my favorite watermelon juice. Then we headed off to the beach. There was a crowd that had gone down earlier in the day and we were happy to be meeting up with them. When we got there around 3:00pm, we found that they had trashy magazines. The plan was to take a dip and then settle into the elicit lives of celebrities…what better way to spend a Sunday?
However, we soon saw that B and G had just taken off in the little boat that B and R had recently acquired. R had gone snorkeling and free-diving on his own about two hours before and hadn’t come back, so they’d gone to look for him. We weren’t particularly worried. R is an adventurous guy…hell, he free-dives (diving to about 20 meters with no equipment). He’s a strong swimmer and probably just got tired somewhere, got out of the water up the beach and was walking back. Or maybe he found some folks to chat with along the way.
As time went on, cars were sent out to check the long beach. The two boats nearby were sent out again. They all came back without R. Worry started to vaguely set in. No one really thought anything would have happened to R. Not him, he could take care of himself. But enough worry set in that we called the police and the local diveshop. Within an hour, a full Search and Rescue effort was underway. There was a boat combing the waters and a helicopter was soon in the air in case he had been swept out too far. Two groups of divers went down at 5:30 and 6:00pm. Just before 7:00pm, it was too dark to continue looking.
Things didn’t look good. There was now just a lingering hope that we may ever find R. Thinking was starting to move towards hoping that we found his body at all.
This morning, I headed to the airport at 6:00am to join a small group of UN staff who would serve as spotters from the 2 UN helicopters that were organized and coordinated with the boats and divers in the sea below.
Somehow hope was revived for me. These are warm waters. After all, I heard a story on the news last night that a person is expected to live about 5 hours in 12 degrees Celcius water. Our waters are about 27 degrees Celsius at the shore. So, R could possibly survive overnight if he had just been caught up by strong currents.
As we lifted off in the two helicopters for our Search and Rescue effort this morning, we worried that it may be hard to see him in his black wetsuit. My Search and Rescue inexperience had me worried that I wouldn’t be able to see him under the sea. As soon as I saw the first little fishing boat below, the size of a tiny toothpick, I realized that I wasn’t going to be looking under the sea. We would be lucky if we saw him on the surface. That is all we could possibly hope for. And hope I did. With every second of my intense gaze, I was thinking “come on R, where are you?” I wondered if he would be floating on his back, barely hanging on and waiting to be found or if he’d find some energy when he heard us overhead and wave his arms wildly.
After an hour and half, the helicopter had to make another scheduled run so we landed. A couple of us went off for breakfast and came back at 10:00 to go up again. At 10:30 about 8 of us headed back up for the third helicopter run of the day. The pilot announced we’d go up along the coast to the beach to where he disappeared and then head out to the nearest island and snake our way back and forth for another hour.
We lifted off, made our way to the beach and circled around. It didn’t quite click that we weren’t following the planned route, but it crossed my mind that we weren’t headed out to the island. But I had lost my bearings a bit and was staring too intently at the waters below to give it a second thought. About 2 minutes later, the guy sitting next to me tapped me on the shoulder, mouthing “found him” and giving me a thumbs up.
Relief? Panic? What did that mean? Now it was clear to me that we were heading back to the airport…but how did they find him? Was he dead? Was he alive?
My friend was lightly holding up her phone to signal she’d received a text message and I gestured to her to pass me the phone. ‘What did it say exactly?’ I was thinking. Does it tell us if he’s alive or dead?
It said just four words.
“Body Found. Come Back”
posted by sue at 6:31 PM
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