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On Personal Risk Assessment   (September 12, 2006)


The family and friends of Steve Ng witnessed his burial in Colma, Calif., on August 17. Readers may recall that Steve drowned in the Salmon River in late July under unknown circumstances. He was young and fit, and his accidental death shocked and saddened us. (My account of his death, False Confidence, ran August 12.)



Reader Bill N. sent in his own account of dangerous waters, a story which reminds me that sometimes it's not what we do which saves us, but what we don't do:
This tragic story reminds me of something I experienced several years ago.

I love to snorkel, and I especially love to snorkel in Hawai'i. Maui is my favorite (though the snorkeling experience is actually probably better on the Big Island).

I planned an excursion for my son that I thought would be a lot of fun. We drove to La Perouse Bay, parked the car, then hiked the King's Trail approximately 1 1/2 miles to a tiny beach surrounded by greenery and guarded by an ancient heiau. Very cool.

But it was a tough trek. The trail was cut through the lava fields, making the footing very obnoxious. We lugged our snorkeling gear, a change of clothes, food and 1/2 gallon of water, each. It was hot. Very hot. When we finally arrived, the surf was roiling, and had "undertow" written all over it.

So, I apologized to my son. "Sorry, sport, I know we're both hot and sweaty, and we're only half-way into even MORE hot and sweaty, but ain't no way we're going into that water". He had no objection whatsoever, so we sat around for a while, enjoyed the view, hunted for weird bugs, drank some more H20, ate a few snacks, then hiked back making conversation the entire way to shorten the trip.

I always think about how grateful I am that we didn't go into the water that day.

Bill N.
While I'm not familiar with that particular spot, I can well imagine the shorebreak at such a beach. Excellent judgment call, Bill, and an excellent reminder to us all to listen to that little voice of intuition which often tells us something isn't quite right with the water, with the people, with the scene or with the machine.

Steve was American through and through, independent to the point of eccentricity, but he was also Chinese-American, and his family honored him with a full traditional Chinese (Hong Kong) funeral. It was our honor to attend the somber rite of passage, and to offer our last respects.


For more on this subject and a wide array of other topics, please visit my weblog.

                                                           


copyright © 2006 Charles Hugh Smith. All rights reserved in all media.

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