Flotsam

and jetsam! Cool, how the salty water preserves wood so you can build fences with the logs washed ashore.

If you want some flotsam, I've got some.
If you want some jetsam, I can get some

Flotsam, and his first cousin Jetsam, occupy the backwaters and beaches of the world, the minds of the bored and distracted, and make up nearly the entire content of this site. Flotsam is in his element, his natural environment, but jetsam feels a bit displaced, almost rejected from a former, superior existance, and thus her melancholy.

On January 10, 1954, a BOAC de Havilland Comet Mk. 1, Yoke Peter, crashed shortly after takeoff from Rome into the sea off Elba. On April 8 of the same year, another BOAC de Havilland Comet, Yoke Yoke, crashed after takeoff from Rome into deeper waters. This was later attributed to metal fatigue – the metal skin of the Comet was postcard-thin, the cabin was over-pressurized, and due to the constant takeoffs & landings, this exerted great pressure on the body of the aircraft. The breach usually (I say usually because extensive testing of the body of the Comet I in a water tank establishes this) started in the corner of one of the windows, which were square in shape – the designers didn't want the windows to look like round portholes on a ship. The decompressurization was so great and so sudden, and the force so explosive, that the passengers would never know what hit them.
When fishermen salvaged the bodies from the sea near Elba, they said the expressions of the passengers were frozen on their faces. Happiness. Laughter. Disappointment. Exhaustion. Resignation. But no horror.