Carefree, Careless, Reckless, Feckless
Well, that's what kids are like, isn't it? All of that; carefree, careless, reckless, feckless. Adventure beckons. There is nothing that 14 and 15-year-old boys cannot venture to do on their own, for themselves, to satisfy their quest for adventure. They are, after all, inquisitive and immortal; no harm could conceivably come to them.
Mostly because they are capable of facing any kind of situation of their own making. They can cope with the repercussions. Because they're bold, brave, capable and imaginative. Not too imaginative, verging on being able to foresee problems ahead.
No, that other kind of imagination that fosters images of rewards. Well, fortunately three teens from a remote area in the South Pacific, Atafu Atoll (see you've never even heard of it before!) were rewarded. They were discovered floating in a part of the ocean that ships rarely steam past, just before their due date was ready to expire.
It was October 5th when the three boys were last seen. They went out in a 12-foot aluminum boat to row their way casually between two islands in the New Zealand territory they were most familiar with, having lived there all of their tender lives. And then, zip. Feared lost forever, the New Zealand Air Force found no trace of them.
Their families went into mourning, holding a memorial service to honour the three dearly departed. Sixty days later, a New Zealand tuna-fishing boat happened to be coasting far off where it usually did, northeast of Fiji. When the first mate spotted three skinny boys in a small craft and asked if they needed any help. A classic understatement as it happened.
They had, in the latter days of their adventure, been forced to drink seawater, because rain had by then become scarce. A few coconuts, one hapless seabird (that must've tasted really awfully fishy, and what's worse, raw) sustained them, somehow. Oh, that, and their high spirits. They were described as being in physically weak condition, but mentally alert.
Sunburned and skeletal. Yes, it was miraculous.
Mostly because they are capable of facing any kind of situation of their own making. They can cope with the repercussions. Because they're bold, brave, capable and imaginative. Not too imaginative, verging on being able to foresee problems ahead.
No, that other kind of imagination that fosters images of rewards. Well, fortunately three teens from a remote area in the South Pacific, Atafu Atoll (see you've never even heard of it before!) were rewarded. They were discovered floating in a part of the ocean that ships rarely steam past, just before their due date was ready to expire.
It was October 5th when the three boys were last seen. They went out in a 12-foot aluminum boat to row their way casually between two islands in the New Zealand territory they were most familiar with, having lived there all of their tender lives. And then, zip. Feared lost forever, the New Zealand Air Force found no trace of them.
Their families went into mourning, holding a memorial service to honour the three dearly departed. Sixty days later, a New Zealand tuna-fishing boat happened to be coasting far off where it usually did, northeast of Fiji. When the first mate spotted three skinny boys in a small craft and asked if they needed any help. A classic understatement as it happened.
They had, in the latter days of their adventure, been forced to drink seawater, because rain had by then become scarce. A few coconuts, one hapless seabird (that must've tasted really awfully fishy, and what's worse, raw) sustained them, somehow. Oh, that, and their high spirits. They were described as being in physically weak condition, but mentally alert.
Sunburned and skeletal. Yes, it was miraculous.
posted by Pieface @ 7:58 PM
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