Unexpected Loss Boston Harbor

Boston Harbor, Saturday night and an exceptional night for being on the water. Unfortunately the pleasure that comes with an evening boat ride, resulted in a life what ended too soon.

A young man on a party boat was still being searched for after falling 40 feet overboard at around 12 midnight. "The Caucasian male was dressed in leather boots, jeans and a gray t-shirt..." the Boston Coast Guard Division announces over the communication channel of the radio.

As a sailor myself, after hearing the details, I felt a deep disturbance by this event. Our boat slowed near the area of the accident to contribute to the search-- only to find nothing. We continued on our way; I however did not. My mind was fixed on this individual who likely lost his life for multiple reasons.

He should never have jumped 40 feet into pitch darkness. But he didn't, apparently he was sitting on the railing. So he should not have been sitting on the railing while under the influence of alcohol. There was no report of his drinking, but he was on a party boat.

I could not stop thinking of the people close to him (friends on the boat ride). The plague of this event would not release me. Why? Why?

Analyzing his chances of survival I kept thinking if he only didn't have on leather cowboy boots, if he only were not drinking, if it were only not dark outside. He had so many variables working against him.

Then I could not understand why the Coast Guard and other search and rescuers were not using more flares to better determine the man overboard's whereabouts. There was a struggle inside of me to reconcile all the things that were wrong with this event.

I couldn't help but wonder if the loss of my niece over 30 years ago, whom I pulled out of the water, intensified this struggle for me. She lost her life and I could only believe that he may have lost his as well.

And while I work towards the end of this struggle within myself, for the people who love and care for this person, I know their struggle is just beginning