One Year After The Shipwreck

This time last year I was still in the throws of trauma having survived a boat crashing violently into an offshore reef in the depth of the night, miles from the coast. Even now, when I close my eyes, the scene of fighting for our lives as the elements ripped away almost all of our survival chance is still deeply vivid and disturbing. British Shipwreck Survivor Emma Tryon

Once we were rescued by fishermen, we were able to make our long journey back to safety. Following a range in how the media had interpreted our story, as soon as I had the energy, I wrote a rather raw account of the shipwreck to let you know what had really happened. There is still however so much more to the story.

 

We didn’t tell you about seeking refuge under military supervision, our distress beacon running out of battery, seeing how the local paper lied about what had happened and why a friend threw a jam sandwich at the nasty jeep driver who was meant to be taking care of us. British Shipwreck Survivor Emma Tryon

 

When we made it to the first island of refuge, we were escorted to the military medical unit.  By this, I mean little more than a hut with limited resources, but very friendly and caring staff. Once we were sure that the worst injuries, were cuts, scrapes, bruising and cat scratches we went back to the barracks office for them to check through our rather soggy passports. I’m not sure as to the technicalities of the situation, but, we were to be under their supervision until we left the island. They were kind to us and made sure we had somewhere safe to rest that night. British Shipwreck Survivor Emma Tryon

As the distress beacon omits and international signal, I was concerned that press may somehow pick up the story and worry family, I have seen the press do such things before. I was able to convince the commanding officer to let me send a short message to my Mum to explain we had been shipwrecked, but had all survived and were doing everything we could to get back to the mainland.

Late that night, we laid out the few bits we had salvaged from the ordeal. As we took a closer look at the ships device that had been omitting a distress signal and our exact position, it STOPPED! It ran out of batteries! What colour I had left, drained from my face. Had we not been found by the fishermen, we would now be stranded with no way of communicating our position to anyone that might care to find us. British Shipwreck Survivor Emma Tryon

Pete and I lay down in a single bed; all either of us could feel is the motion of the sea, it felt as though waves were still crashing around us and as if the room was spinning. I didn’t dare to turn out the light. Exhausted, I did drop to sleep as Pete lay awake in a traumatised state, beginning to process what on earth had just happened.

Early the next morning, we were reunited with the four who had been taken to the fishing village following the first stage of rescue. We were then put on a boat, and yes, this felt awful. We were put on a boat and taken to another Island for immigration. We spent the best part of the day working out the logistics that needed to be in place for us to make it to the mainland. So we could all begin to contact families and embassies as we worked out how to get as far away from this horrific experience as possible.

The authorities arranged for us to be put on ANOTHER boat, but at least this time it would take us to the mainland. They had arranged for jeeps to meet us and drive us through the crazy roller coaster of jungle roads, all the way to the Panama city.

As we arrived at the shore of the mainland a band of greedy, intimidating and deeply despicable locals circled us and insisted we paid them for arriving on the mainland. We stood there, disheveled, barefoot and with a handful of possessions between us. They were aggressive and insisted we gave them money. You would think that our vulnerable state would have invoked some sort of compassion, instead you could see they felt empowered by our vulnerability and pushed harder. We stood our ground, insisting that we were not going to be giving them anything and that the jeeps had been arranged by the local authorities to get is to a place of safety.

They ceased to pursue us out of fatigue not compassion.

 Reluctant to separate from each other, we clambered into the jeeps and headed to the city. When passing through an armed road check, the police actually knew who we were based on the Panamanian newspaper article released that day. We knew there had been a cover up somewhere as the article stated that the crash had been the result of poor weather conditions and engine failure. I suppose the engine did fail when it crashed into the reef! The article then went onto hail the authorities for their rescue. They completely left out the fact that no one had been on night watch on the boat and that the authorities decided a short morning jaunt along the coast was sufficient to presume us dead and look no further. We know that it wasn’t until the fishermen and the first rescuees raised the alarm and insisted we were where the signal had been transmitting from, that the coast guards came out to the reef …and even at that point, we had to swim to them!

 We continued our journey to Panama City where the jeep drivers took us to a hostel different to the one that had been arranged. It was on the outskirts of town and the owner had no idea about the arrangement. We asked the drivers if they could wait just a few minutes whilst we tried to find out why we weren’t been taken to the place that was reserved for us and if indeed, this could be a safe alternative for the night. Whilst one driver was a little more patient, our driver was really quite detestable and yelled at us to get out the car, he went as far as hitting and shoving me as we asked in Spanish if he could just wait a few more moments whilst we worked things out.

In amongst this, a very sweet girl who worked at the hostel had grasped why we were all in such a state and ran to make us jam and bread. As she came back out and the drivers u-turned to speed off, one of my friends launched a slice of jam and bread at the nasty jeep driver. It made a satisfying splat as it hit the drivers back window and slid down in a comical fashion that just brought us to a surreal bout of laughter.

That night we were all able to let our families know what had happened and that all things considered we were well; or at least alive! The cool Aussie couple that had used a surfboard to make it to the military boat were the first to make it onto a flight back to their family in Australia. My Mum has already set things into motion and with  huge thanks to so many of our epic family and friends sending the story viral on social media, we were able to convince a reluctant insurer to get us home on the first available flight.

We dashed to the airport as soon as we could to catch the flight. We checked in the dry sack along with a torch and survival knife.

The journey home is a story in itself and I can’t wait to share it with you over time.

The nautical mishap has had such an impact on us, I feel it has set something into motion that will take a lifetime to process and learn from, so for now I will leave you with a few little musings based on the things I have been asked the most since it happened.

 

Will you get on a boat again?

Yes. We had to during the ordeal, but that doesn’t count as we had no choice.

I think overcoming a fear is one of the most challenging but empowering things you can do. We have since chosen to get on a boat in Sri Lanka and we will share that story with you soon too.

 

How were you smiling in the photos?

Because that’s just me! This question has come mostly from people who don’t know me. All-knowing trolls in particular would say things like ‘well it can’t have been that scary if she’s smiling’. Trust, me I was terrified and there were points where I quietly doubted our survival. But I chose to draw on peace and stay as positive as I could. There is no way we could have stopped to take photos during the initial crash, whilst the boat was thrashing, crashing and breaking into pieces. I also can’t guarantee I was smiling then, infact my expression was probably more like a permanent freeze frame of those awful rollercoaster photos you get. The photos you see were during what seemed like an eternity of waiting and hoping for rescue and this really was the time to stay as positive as we could.

 

Do you still think about it?

For the first few weeks, perhaps months, it was all I could think about and the trauma did catch me out at times. I remember being at a friends house afterwards and some letters were pushed through the door rather abruptly. The bang made me burst into tears and then the ridiculousness of that just made me laugh. Trauma is a strange thing.

I do now have days, perhaps weeks that go by where I don’t directly think about it, but that is not to say it has not deeply impacted me.

 

Did it change you?

The BIG Question.

A year later, I still feel a deep motivating gratitude for life. We could have just been a slightly more striking headline, soon to become a statistic that none of our loved ones would ever have recovered from. Thankfully, this is not the case, our story goes on. Occasionally I get to see the amazing things the other survivors are doing with their lives and it projects me into a state where I feel sick to my stomach, that we were almost all lost at sea, juxtaposed with excitement and an awe for all the wonderful things you can do with a life; my life, your life.  

People bound around concise quotes about living each day as if it is your last and although it is a great bitesize ethos, it is hard to take real life meaning from it and apply it to how you live your life. Life does have practicalities and I can’t say I would spend tomorrow paying off bills or addressing my ever desperate state of laundry if I knew I would die the following day, so what can be taken from this ethos?

 

Well, I heard an ethos I prefer,

 

“Learn like you will live forever, live like you’ll die tomorrow.”

 

This adds a depth to the concept, that reminds you that life is better with both sowing as well as just reaping. Learning is one of my favourites forms of investment.

I love adventure and I love to learn new things.

A year later, my passion for making the most of every breath has not dwindled, rather, my understanding of what it is to make the most of every moment has grown.

 

Another ethos that has resonated with me this year was recently outlined by our Queen Elizabeth in her speech on Christmas day. The Queen quoted St. Teresa of Calcutta,

 

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

 

I take such great encouragement from this and hope others can too.

Like most, I do lose my way, lose my focus and have some weird hang ups, but overall I know I am changed. I know I want to not only live life to the fullest, but I want to find every which way I can to inspire others to do the same. I want to show the value of life where I can and encourage and equip others to do the same.

 

I really should draw my rambling musings to a close, I do hope there might be something of interest in here that helps you shape your new year.

 

In short:

Love, Learn and Live for Adventure.

 

It’s good to focus on the positive: