My initial concern was one of monetary loss ($750). My connected device was gone. Misplaced. Standing-by in the left front pocket of my trousers, normally, it lends a sense of form against my thigh. An occasional pat or  brush of hand reassures that it is secure. Previous experience told me that this was a good location. Too rigid for a hip pocket and prone to spill from an open shirt pocket; it had only slipped a very view times when seated within the soft confines of sofa or pillow chair. One naturally makes a wallet / phone check upon exit.

The last reaffirmation check revealed that the usual location was empty. Confounded, I checked the other pocket possibilities. Nope. It was missing.

Recovery would be a puzzle. I would have to recollect when last handled as well as account for all events and movements since. A window of confidence was roughly 45 minutes but then you realize that a general summary recollection is clear but all of the small ‘witness’ details insignificant at the time, are brain stored in short term low level memory. Initially I was assuring myself that my phone was likely safe and would “turn up” but no; it took hours of revisualization and introspective thought to reconstruct.

The other pilot and I were leaving the airport on foot for an impromptu round trip to Cooper’s Island but not before a quick pit back at the jet to retrieve hat and sunblock. I reckoned that while crouching beside open suitcase in the bag compartment perhaps it had deposited there (False hope.  It hadn’t ).

Early on along our route we encountered two young girls opposite direction who were keen on our uniforms. We side stepped clear of the road and had a pleasant chat on the shoulder  with one being a Londoner and the other a Local. Before carrying onward there was a FB friending and group Selfie. Did I withdraw my (camera) phone and mis pocket opening? Did it fall silently into the deep grass? I would later retrace this 1/2 mile stretch trying unsuccessfully to recall the exact spot we all stood. Sweep scanning blades of  green for a glint of case or reflection on gorilla glass a dark thought occurs. Pickpocket! (Possible I suppose but a stretch)

Having arrived at the park entrance and while stalling for a bit while the other fellow captured some white sand beach setting photo I angled my leg to retie shoe lace. (squeezed from pocket opening) Was it the first beach or the next? Which fence railing?

24 hours had elapsed and I had gone back twice to search replaying everything but to no avail. I had to exhaust the possibility that it wasn’t just laying there undiscovered. After all, an opportunist would surely have attempted to access and the clever Find-my-Smartphone feature would broadcast its coordinate location. Alas, being out of country as I was the phone’s antenna was in airplane mode and therefore off network. A thief would merely have to wait it out knowing that the owner would probably remotely erase the device contents eventually after losing hope.

In fact, I was seriously poised to do that very thing. A data breach would be ugly with personal information of every kind risking exposure. The phone is locked by 4 digit PIN but with time and sophistication a good hacker might succeed. I learned that while the data wipe feature would allay these concerns, this option would also kill any possibility of tracking or easily identifying the device. In fact, it would make it possible for the discoverer to activate a fresh install — finders keepers.

Disgusted that I lost control of my property, resigned to writing off the asset as a loss, disappointed in having failed to find it, soul searching; why I am such a slave to the thing in the first place. Like so many by habit, I find myself staring at the small screen during every possible moment. How to go about replacing? Perhaps now is a good time to go cold turkey and kick this addiction?  I’m part way there.

By the next day I’ve traversed many states of mind; bummed, gloom, depression withdrawal but I’m less frequently checking the empty pocket or having phantom sensations. I’m actually gazing about spaces and at people during the idle moments.

By now the lost phone should be at lo-batt or nearly depleted. Seriously ready to Nuke…

[spoiler alert: review the previous post first]

The CSR behind the desk at airport FBO doubted that I’d ever see it again. It had not shown up at their lost & found. I hadn’t expected it to. Whoever picks it up will keep it, she says. Just the same, I was wondering if perhaps an honest citizen might  turn it in. I had asked a Park Service  maintenance employee if they knew and the suggestion was floated that I try the local Police Substation. The CSR was dubious and I was primed to agree but then somehow we decided; let’s try.

She picked up the phone. I was only party to the one sided conversation but when she started relaying bullet questions from the other end such as: What color is it? and: What is the screensaver? (Sailboat) and then: What is the name on the boat? it became crystal there was going to be a happy outcome.

The CSR personally drove me over to claim it. I would have liked to have rewarded the soul who turned it in. My faith in humanity is restored. May that individual enjoy their good Karma.

I credit good police work. The officer had actually called over to the Bermudian Maritime Authority and determined that the yacht pictured from the lock screen was not in country. I explained that a year ago that it had been and the official confirmed this to be known.

BTW, I’m off the wagon but trying to be diligent about usage. It goes without saying I’m installing a collar and chain 😉