A Vacation in the Bermuda Triangle

August 17th 2010.

It all started like most summer vacations, everyone waiting for that day, to travel somewhere exotic and fun, free from school and work. My family had been planning this trip all year, not just your everyday beach vacation, but all the way to the Caribbean! We arrived at the airport, in record time for a family of six, and three of them girls no less, they can be quick when they want to be.

Dad, my brother and I took up one row, while Mom and my sisters took up the row directly in front, my siblings and I getting somewhat bored after many restless hours, began to pester one another, I did a childish thing and kicked my older sisters seat sporadically, annoying her till I eventually dozed off. When I awoke, I was dismayed to find she had drawn a mustache on my upper lip, with her waterproof black eye goo, and no one stopped her. I quickly made my way to the lavatory, covering my mouth so no one would see, the stuff was hard to wash off, I repeatedly rinsed and scrubbed, and all it did was smudge, I looked like a two-year-old who had eaten a black marker, and drooled the ink all over my mouth.

Frustrated, I ignored the incessant knocks on the door, I was obviously hogging the bathroom, but I couldn’t leave till the marks were gone. In the midst of my scrubbing, turbulence knocked me flat on my back. Moments later the pilot made an announcement that no one on a plane ever wanted to hear...

The plane was going down, and there was nothing but ocean for miles. My face forgotten I ran to my family's seats, reaching for the life vest in my seat, fear was prevalent on everyones faces, many openly crying, some praying aloud, a few Hail Mary’s cited, some remained unmoving and silent while others hugged and held tightly to one another.

The pilot, was trying to steer the plane to as safe as a landing as he could manage, but there was no doubt we were quickly descending to the depths below.

Among my family, Dad did his best to remain calm, instructing us each to watch out for a partner, and do what we could to survive, in case of separation.

Time seemed to stand still as I held on to my little sister, we were plummeting fast, We were supposed to be passing over Florida, but the pilot, somehow lost direction in the thick clouds, by my figuring, we were in the US point of the Bermuda triangle off the Miami Beach. No explanation was needed, I had read about the myth’s of lost aircraft and ships, It was clear where we were headed, the question was, do we survive in a hidden world? Or become shark food?

At some point I blacked out, and when I awoke my family and many other passengers were sprawled on an island. I thought it was Atlantis for all the strange things I saw, no one remembers the plane crashing, we were all just here. It seemed archaic, yet oddly modern, there were more than just the other passengers here, people milled about like you would see at a public park, but instead of leisure, everyone was busy, with what looked like prehistoric inventions, Some of the people stopped working to greet us. One older man, walked in our direction and welcomed us, He told Dad we had indeed crossed into the Bermuda triangle, I asked him if this was Atlantis, to which he chuckled, “Some like to call it that, but to me, it is Perdita” He said it with a rolled r. “It is Latin for lost, which is what we all are. For years many have tried to return home, but so far no one has, we are a civilization of lost people doing our best to make a new home. These contraptions and machines you see everywhere are rude inventions, from our past lives, using what came from the ships and planes that come to us. Sadly new arrivals like yourselves, are our only link to the old ever-changing world, it is the only way we learn of new inventions, and yet there are many of us who have known no other life. Who have been born here. We have learned to become happy, as I hope you will, and when you are ready, you too can share the new things of your world to us.” 

This shocking news was more than my mother could take, and to be perfectly honest it was a tough pill to swallow, we would never see our friends, our grandparents, aunt’s and uncles, or cousins, modern conveniences was almost null. 

With nothing left but to face the facts, the man led us to a cabin. Apparently they had whole communes built for people like us, it was a regular enough occurrence, though it could be years before it happened again, they thought it a good idea, especially given the thought many people did not acclimate right away to the idea their life drastically changed in the blink of an eye. 

It was about a month before my family felt truly settled, we made new friends, and told them of the world we left behind. Our schooling was much like it was back home, with a heavy grade on science, and inventions, we had lectures given by newcomers like myself, money was irrelevant, instead people traded knowledge and good’s.

If you are reading this letter it means, you have found my message in a bottle, and I hope that also means, it made its way through the ocean, back to my old home. People can’t, but maybe this will? Please know the passengers of flight 403, have survived, I Ronald Driggle aged 14 and my parents Frank and Julia and siblings, Marty, Olivia, and Laura are all well. 

If you don’t want to relocate, and have a life-changing moment, maybe think twice about going on exotic vacations, across the Atlantic Ocean.