Tenth Anniversary of "The Mystery of the Miracle Frisbee"

Happy 2022! 

 

I hope this post might prove to be a special story for some.

 

It is a true story that happened just before New Year's Eve of 2011, exactly ten years ago. I originally published it in January of 2012.  I've republished it the first of the New Year over the past several years because it's true, possibly inspirational, and I think you'll find it amazing. 

The story below is absolutely true.  My family and I were there and experienced this first-hand.  It is not the type of material you find in my typical blog entry.  However, it is too good not to share.  Please post your thoughts at the bottom of this page.  Share this with anyone you think might enjoy it or get caught up in the mystery.

What do you call it when something beyond understanding occurs -- something that defies all odds? Is it a paranormal event?  A coincidence of unimaginable proportions?  Magic?  Or is it a miracle? And what if you can prove to yourself and others that it really happened because you were there and you took photographs!  This incident concerns nothing more elaborate than a Frisbee, but it is mystifying, nevertheless.

My wife’s family is from Guatemala.  My wife, our two children, and I live in Illinois and sometimes visit her family in Central America over the holidays.  This year, we, along with most of my wife’s large family, spent the week after Christmas at my sister-in-law’s beach house on the Pacific coast of Guatemala.

My daughter practicing her gymnastics on the black sand beach.

Every day, my wife’s younger brother, Gonzalo, would run out to the volcanic black sand with his Frisbee and toss it along the beach or over the waves and let the wind return it to him.  Two days before New Year’s, as my children and some of the cousins played on the beach, I took my camera and photographed him exercising with the white disc.

My brother-in-law, Gonzalo, running on the beach with his Frisbee.  Notice the design of the Frisbee on the inset.

Later in the evening, my wife, Maria, and I; Gonzalo and his wife, Marta Yolanda; and the children went down to the beach to catch the sunset.  The children built a castle in the sand.  Maria, Marta Yolanda, and I stood and watched the progress of the castle building activities, while Gonzalo launched his Frisbee toward the waves.  I took several photographs.  Several times, the Frisbee landed on the water and was returned in the waves.  Everyone was having a great time, until my brother-in-law made a bad toss.  He groaned as the Frisbee went into the waves and was not immediately returned on the surf.

The children made a sand castle, while my brother-in-law (far right) played with his Frisbee.

“It’s gone,” he said.

“Give it a minute, and maybe the waves will bring it back,” I suggested.

“No, Tom, I don’t think it’s coming back,” he sighed, as we all peered into the dark waves, hoping that he might be wrong.

After another half minute, I pointed into the surf as a white object came into view. 
“There it is,” I yelled.  The Frisbee washed directly to my wife’s feet and hit her on the shins.  She walked over and handed it to her brother.

He took the disc happily, but after only a moment said, “This isn’t my Frisbee.”

We all looked at him. 

“My Frisbee was red on top.   This one’s black.”

“That has to be your Frisbee,” I said.

“Maybe it had a sticker on it that came off in the water,” my wife suggested.

“No,” Gonzalo insisted.  “Mine was a pure white.  This is pearl colored.”

“That has to be your Frisbee,” I said.   “If it’s not, whose is it?  And how is it possible that it washed up at our feet just as we were looking for a Frisbee?  How many times have you ever had a Frisbee wash up at your feet, let alone when you’re looking for one?”

“Never,” he answered.

“And how many times have you ever just found a Frisbee on the beach?”

“Never.”

“Then how is it possible that this isn’t your Frisbee?

“I don’t know,” he answered.  “It just doesn’t look like my Frisbee.”  It was obvious that my logic had convinced him to give up his argument.

We watched another dramatic Pacific sunset, and then returned to the house to have dinner and rest for New Year’s Eve.

It wasn’t until the next morning when I was looking at some of my photos on the LCD screen of my camera that I realized I had shots from before the Frisbee was lost.  I quickly found the photos and zoomed in on one where the design on the Frisbee was plainly visible.

There was no doubt.  It was not the same Frisbee.  The photographs plainly show a Frisbee with a very different graphic design.  If not for the photographs, we all would have given up on the notion that one disc had been thrown into the ocean and a different disc returned.  It was just too difficult to believe.  But that’s exactly what happened:  one Frisbee was thrown into the ocean, only to be replaced by a different one a moment later.

The Frisbee that returned in the waves (center) and the Frisbee that was thrown into the ocean (inset).

I have no explanation.  Something very strange happened.  I don’t know how or why.  Maybe it was nature’s way of assuring us that miracles can and do happen.  If something with odds this impossible can take place, it can happen again.  And maybe next time, the miracle will be something that will change someone’s life for the better.  Maybe next time we’ll believe the impossible really can happen.  It’s already happened once.  It can happen again.

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You can view my fine art photography website at:  www.tombellart.com.

This blog has been named one of the top 75 fine art photography blogs on the planet.

Photography Combined With A Family Jungle Fishing Adventure

It was a few weeks before Easter. My wife and I were talking with her brother, my brother-in-law, Gonzalo, on WhatsApp. He was explaining that he and his son, José Antonio were planning a fishing trip on the San Pedro River in the remote Péten jungle of Guatemala during Holy Week. Gonzalo has an adventurous streak, so I wasn't surprised.

"Tom, why don't you go with us? We invite you," my brother-in-law said unexpectedly. 

I was blown away. Then reality set in.

"I'd love to," I said, "but I can't."

"Why not? You'd get some great photographs."

I explained that my wife, a university professor, was busier than ever teaching her classes online because of the COVID epidemic, and there was no way she could find time to both teach and take care of  our hyperactive dog, Chico, who demands a huge amount of attention.

"I'll handle it," my wife said. "Go! It's not every day you get an opportunity to go fishing in the jungle with your brother-in-law and nephew." That set events in motion, and I soon had my plane ticket, some mosquito repellent, sunscreen, and even a couple of new fishing shirts.

I spent a few days in Guatemala City with my mother-in-law. Then on the Monday before Easter, Gonzalo, José Antonio,and I started the eight hour drive to Flores, an island city in the Péten jungle where we would spend the night before proceeding to the San Pedro River, another four hours away. Flores is a tourist destination largely because it is the gateway stop for those visiting the ancient Mayan city of Tikal. It is also surrounded by the beautiful Lake Petén Itzá, a vacation spot for visitors and Guatemalans alike.

Me (in cool hat) and my brother-n-law Gonzalo Fernández (in cool Kung Fu shirt) enjoy a beer on the rooftop of our hotel in Flores after a long day on the road. (You can click on images in this blog for a larger view. Hit ESC to return to a normal view.)  Photo credit: José Antonio Fernández.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gonzalo and José Antonio, who invited me on their fishing trip. Another view from the rooftop of our hotel (Hotel Isla de Flores).

Despite only having a few hours before nightfall, I took advantage of the opportunity I had to do some photography.

A rooftop view of Flores and Lake Petén Itzá as night begins to fall.

Flores was crowded because of the Holy Week tourists.

I shot this old uninhabited building the following morning from my breakfast table in the hotel restaurant.

A view of the same building from above. Metal rooftops are common in Flores.

After breakfast, we were on the road again for another four hours before arriving at our hotel in La Libertad, Guatemala (Hotel Bahia San Pedro) on the banks of the San Pedro River. We were deep in the jungle near the Mexican border. Our guide Rony Arturo Olivares, a 20 year veteran of guiding on the river, was there to greet us.

Our guide, Rony.

We unloaded the fishing gear immediately upon arriving at the hotel.

Gonzalo examines Rony's homemade spear gun, one that proved to be extremely successful in catching fish.

A view of the San Pedro River from the second floor of our hotel.

 

After arriving, we took an hour or so to rest, then walked over to a nearby riverside restaurant for lunch. I ordered pork because I figured there would be plenty of opportunities for seafood during the duration of the trip. Gonzalo and José Antonio ordered fish.

After seeing José Antonio's tilapia dish, I wished I had opted for the seafood. I didn't make the same mistake during the duration of our trip.

A few hours of daylight remained after lunch, so the fishing trip officially got underway.

The San Pedro River extends from Guatemala into southern Mexico.  In places, the river is only a few inches deep, so only boats with a shallow draft can navigate the waterway.

We were fishing for róbalo (snook or sergeant fish, in English) and tilapia. Rony, our guide brought in several fish with his spear gun. We trolled in the boat back and forth, but without luck for our fist partial day on the lake. However, we weren't disappointed and were up early the next morning for another day of adventure on the San Pedro River.

I was the first in our group to bring in a fish. While we didn't weight it, I would estimate that this snook
 was between three and four pounds. This is my first catch in over twenty years.  Photo credit: José Antonio Fernández.

By lunchtime, largely due to Rony's spear fishing skills, we had enough fish to pull up to shore and make a meal.  Rony had a grill set up along the banks of the river and quickly cleaned some fish and made a fire.

Rony cooked the fish directly over wood-fueled flames.

The fish tacos we enjoyed along the river's bank were both fresh and delicious.

Other boats and fishermen on the river were few and far between. We were reminded that we were deep in the jungle by the occasional sighting of a crocodile (which we never got close enough to photograph) and the booming voices of howler monkeys.

One of the few boats we saw far out on the river.

Rony maneuvered the boat to shore so that we could get an up-close view of howler monkeys. Spider monkeys were also present until we got close, but they were too timid to stick around for photographs.  Photo credit: Gonzalo Fernández.

Our several days on the river included amazing scenery, delicious meals featuring the fish we caught, and hours of trolling the river for a big catch.

Except for our expert spear fisherman guide, José Antonio was the most successful at landing keepers, with several fish to his credit.

Not every fish we caught was a keeper, but we had fun pulling them in, just to release them a moment later.

Even before Rony got it into the boat, we knew this one was a huge catch.

The snook weighed in at eleven and a half pounds.

Water lilies on the river offered more opportunities for photography.

One of the meals we enjoyed with the fish we caught was ceviche,a raw fish dish with onions, vegetables, herbs and spices. The raw fish is cured in citrus.

We fished for a few hours on Friday morning before packing the vehicle with our fishing gear and a big cooler filled with fish on ice. We caught fish, we had a wonderful time, and had an adventure that will be long remembered.

It was a four hour trip back to the island city of Flores where we stayed the night before heading back to Guatemala City.  The last night in Flores is a story in itself, which I'll publish sometime in the future.

If you would like to follow along and receive a notification when a new post appears, please subscribe by clicking here and entering your email address.

You can view my fine art photography website at:  www.tombellart.com.

This blog has been named one of the top 75 fine art photography blogs on the planet.