Life is fleeting, as I was reminded 2 nights ago. Jen and I were motoring my new rubber boat back from an awesome dolphin swim (prior post) and we saw some red and blue lights flashing up ahead. I dropped her off at the beach ( a shortcut for her – she always gets the first shower!) and I headed south to the inlet.
The closer I got to the flashing lights, the more surreal it got… there was a large crowd standing on the edge of a bluff overlooking the beach were I teach my groups how to snorkel, (the exact spot I wrote about 3 posts ago).
The small Australian pines above the bluff were black, scorched and smoking… there were pieces of metal strewn along the beach… What was going on???
My friend Al was in his boat surveying the scene… he told me that a small plane had crashed barely an hour before, and the wreckage in the water 20 feet in front of us was the remains of the plane.
On a small island like Bimini, news travels fast. Bad news, even faster. What is our fascination with bad news, with death?
The pilot (from Nassau) and his passenger, a woman from Bimini, were both killed, their bodies already recovered. (Whew). A 2 year old boy and his mother, sitting on the beach, our beach, had received some 1st and 2nd degree burns from ignited fuel falling from the plane. The plane had cartwheeled right over them and into the sea at their feet. It also cartwheeled over a cottages I sometimes use for my groups.
WTF?
I took some photos and motored home in the dark, contemplating. That night, Jen and I rode our bikes downtown. The south end of town was in darkness… the plane had torn out the high tension lines, the cause of his crash. I saw Bonefish Tommy, he gave me a first hand account of what happened…
Many people know this pilot as he has a habit of buzzing the beach with his plane after takeoff. Tommy was on Weech’s dock and saw the plane dip down close to the harbor, almost hitting the navigational light in the middle of the harbor (this pole is less than 20 feet tall). He said the plane swerved up and turned, but caught the high tension lines on the low road (the Queen’s road), then roared off towards the beach. He described the loud ‘whoosh’ he heard from the crash seconds later.
Why am I writing the whole story, I ask myself… I was just going to write a synapsis of our fascination with death…
We rode our bikes up the to high road (100 feet away, Bimini is a skinny island) and found pieces of wreckage still along the road and on the beach. Power lines, the ones that tore the wing off, went from the road into the sea, where the plane rested…
People called the guy a fool, and the woman with him an innocent victim. One friend said she was 4 months pregnant. So now we’re up to three deaths. For a joy ride.
She already had a booked flight to Freeport, but she traded it in for a free ride with the pilot. That trade cost her life.
Its easy to judge, (this guy’s a jerk!) But I know there is no accidents in life, we die when our spirit is good and ready, not before, not after. So these two spirits (three?) knew it was time, and they chose a dramatic exit. Why?
Its for each of us to decide… For me, its a reminder that life is finite and to enjoy it. And that we have a fascination with death, which I have judged, yet now I understand.
Taking pictures of the wreckage, I thought about this post. I was in a prime spot to ‘get the scoop’. Smoldering photos, live interviews with eye witnesses, carnage strewn about; some pretty impressive stuff from a place I love.
But (and yes, I’m using ‘but’ deliberately here! ;) I made a clear choice awhile ago to go easy on the pain button and live happily in the yes/pleasure/purpose side of life.
And yes, curiosity, even morbid curiosity, tempted me to claim a piece of the plane too. WTF? What kind of prize is that?
Maybe our fascination with death reminds us to be alive, to stay alive, to appreciate life in general. This incident sure does that for me.
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