Today, June 23, 2023, begins with news that a submersible carrying five adventurers to view the wreck of the Titanic deep in the Atlantic Ocean imploded on its way down, killing all on board. They not only paid a very high price to go on the expedition, they paid the ultimate price.
All were wealthy people who could afford to follow their dreams but, honestly, why would anyone want to stuff themselves inside an uncomfortable death trap to view the remnant of a one hundred-and-eleven-year-old disaster lying so deep that no natural light can't reach it? Obviously, these people did, and it is terribly sad that their quest went so awry.
This is the second tragedy in the last three weeks resulting from people trying to accomplish the extraordinary. Last month an Australian man succumbed to altitude sickness after summiting Mount Everest. Seventeen years earlier he had suffered spinal cord injuries in a car accident and had to learn to walk again. Three years ago, he had another spinal procedure followed by rehab and wanted to prove he was still capable of doing anything he wanted. He certainly succeeded, but at what cost?
I'm not here to judge. Such people are entitled to do what they want and they show extraordinary motivation, but I wonder what their real quest is. For some reason, I suspect that they are their own Titanics or mountains. What is this need to push the boundaries? We can all benefit from a challenge, but why do some people feel they have to outdo the challenges other people set themselves?
It is a strange thing, nay ludicrous, to see photos of recent ascents of Everest where there are climbers, over fifty or so of them, literally queueing for their turn to reach the summit. Now, how special do you feel accomplishing something that involves queueing in a long line such as at a theme park, not to mention that you are paying around $50 thousand dollars for the privilege?
Since the year 2000, we've seen people trying to break all kinds of records. Felix Baumgartner, an Austrian, jumped from a hot air balloon 39 kilometers above the Nevada desert with a parachute and not only broke the record for the highest ever freefall, but the sound barrier as well. Such an exercise requires a lot of money as well as a lot of skydiving experience.
Steve Fosset, an American businessman, held world records for five non-stop solo circumnavigations of the world in both a balloon and fixed wing aircraft. He sadly died in a light plane crash in 2007.
There are people who walk tight ropes between skyscrapers and, also, people who free climb skyscrapers. There seems to be no end to the way thrill seekers seek their thrills and this leads me to the obvious question. Why?
Of course, I don't have the answer, but I do have a couple of theories. One thing I felt that they all must have in common is outrageously good health; that was, until I read about the mountain climber who had suffered spinal injuries and then used his regained health and fitness to test his body to the limit. I feel that, if you have enough obstacles in your everyday life, you won't have the need to create them. In his case, I was wrong.
Another theory is boredom, after you have become a wealthy individual and have run out of ways to get your thrills. I mean, you've gained total financial freedom so now what is there to conquer? There's a lot to be said for conquering that mortgage or overcoming illness to keep a person gainfully occupied. It may be less exciting but, at least, there's usually light at the end of the tunnel.
My final theory is also based around those with enough money. Having conquered the material world, there is one last enemy to face: death, and you don't have to be afraid of death to want to make its acquaintance. You may just want to know how you'll feel when confronting it and if you have the guts to deal with it. So, what do you do? You take part in an activity that brings you as close as dammit to the edge to test your courage and, by the time you've done this a few times, I bet it becomes addictive. It would sure get your endorphins and adrenalin pumping. I guess that's what such people are after, having lost the ability to get a thrill from more mundane situations.
If I wanted to seek a thrill such as those poor souls who perished in the submersible, locked into a small, uncomfortable space for hours, all I would need to do is book an economy class ticket on a commercial airliner going from Australia to Europe. That would take twenty-three hours in a cramped seat. If I wanted to make it worse, I would just lock myself in the toilet for an hour or two after ten or so hours in the air. Honestly, what could be worse?
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