Only hours ago, the place was filled with rescue vehicles, police cars, and the volunteer fire department. A helicopter flew overhead. A fishing boat circled and circled outside the harbour.
Someone was missing. A neighbour drove the fishing boat. A car left for the nearby town to pick up a loving partner, an expectant mother, from her job at a restaurant. A little boy played happily, safely at a neighbours house.
A daddy, a fisherman set out, over calm water, in a small boat, not far from shore.
The boat flipped. The daddy and his friend struggled in the cold cold water.
We knew everything and nothing.
Crowds gathered.
A sister stood on the wharf by her fishing boat.
Family gathered at the fisherman's house on the harbour.
The father's dozer made a path through the rocky shore towards the receding tide, the highest and lowest tides in the world, to take the rescue boat to the water.
From one window I watch the rescue boat go out to bring back the body.
From another I watch a grieving family wait outside their house.
I know the little boy is safe and unknowing in a nearby house.
The fisherman's old dog, Boy, rambles up around my house.
The young rescuers, who may have gone to school with the young fisherman, demand privacy and respect for his leaving.
One by one the vehicles leave. One is carrying the young fisherman, who is no more.
The little boy is reunited with his mummy and his sibling, who is yet to be.
A larger family mourns.
A tiny village mourns with them, this dark night.
My prayers go out to the Hamilton family and the community. So sad. His little boy has lost a Daddy that loved him dearly and the unborn child will never meet this wonderful Daddy.
ReplyDeleteRest in peace Dave.
ReplyDelete