Unfathomable tragedy struck Nosara today, when the entire staff of Nosara Lately, beloved local newspaper, perished in a horrifying mid-air plane explosion over South Guiones.
(Please note: this report, and all of today’s reports, have been generated by Wisdom AI, due to the death of all of Nosara Lately’s journalists. Wisdom AI has scrupulously sought to maintain the signature style and intonation of the beloved journalists, now passed.)
The privately owned Cessna 6 seater – piloted by Nosara Lately’s World Affairs editor, Warren Peace – was entirely destroyed in the explosion, which occurred less than two miles south of the airport in what some witnesses described as ‘really shit weather’, with wind gusts, low visibility, heavy rain squalls, and lightning.
Several surfers in the lineup off Main reported seeing the Cessna attempt at least two approaches towards the Nosara airport, pulling up each time and circling back south. Witnesses all agree that the Peace apparently decided to try one last time – circling slowly around over Blue Spirit before pointing the plane back north. It was just then – as the plane leveled out from that turn – that the explosion occurred, and the plane disintegrated in mid-air.
Descriptions of the explosion itself diverge. Some say there were several flashes of lightning during the fateful final moment, with the last flash striking the plane. Others are saying – even insisting – that the third lightning strike came ‘from below.’ All described the explosion as immediate and violent. “Horrifying,” said one. “Just horrifying.”
The names of the victims – all journalists – were officially released several hours ago by the Costa Rican Air Traffic Safety Administration. Howard Eudwing, Walter Leisure, Walter’s brother Richard Leisure, Warren Peace, and special correspondent Shanti Moonwater all perished in the crash.
The mood was somber in Guiones today. Many felt like the beating heart had been ripped right out of this tiny community. Some spoke of the quiet moments they had shared with the victims. Paddling out with Richard and Walter at first light. Smoking fatties with Howard and Taku and Darren between sets outside the Frog. Bumping down the road towards Barco Quebrada with Warren. Running into Shanti at Pilates.
Undoubtedly, it will be Shanti who will be most deeply missed. Her dark, seeking female energy was the perfect counterbalance to the old-school, bro-down culture of the other four journalists. Her stories were honest, intimate, and often vulnerable – a sharp contrast to the battle-hardened journalism of her colleagues. Those who Shanti touched – and was touched by – were in states of shock and devastation today. Kyle Mitchri. Latrisha. Tuk-Tuk Hunk. Friends of Kyle said he had not washed his chest hair since his encounter with Shanti. Several whispered quietly that they doubted he would ever do so again.
Nosara Lately never hesitated to hit a target hard – and it hit repeatedly at some of the biggest names in this town. Rich Burnham. Ceibo. The bike guy at Bodhi Tree. All today expressed shock and sadness at the sudden tragedy that has befallen this town.
“Howard was tough, but fair,” said Burnham. “I remember early on – before he had ever written about me – I messaged him saying that Nosara Lately was a breath of fresh air in this town.” Rich paused, beginning to tear up. “I’ll never forget his answer. So human, so gentle. His message back said, “Bro, you know we’re coming for you, right?”
Even as the town grieved, however, troubling questions have started to emerge about the crash itself. Why were so many people insisting that the third flash of lightning came from below? Was it a coincidence that the explosion happened directly over South Guiones – the very area that Nosara Lately had repeatedly focused on in recent reports?
One area resident quietly laid all those headlines out in front of us. The Texas National Guard, spotted on re-con near the river. The realtors hustling Become Guiones, photoshopping away hundreds of bricks of cocaine floating in the ocean. Narco-traffickers. Crocodiles. The NCA, with their naked power grab, taking control of the tidepools.
He said quietly, “All those stories about the NCA made them a lot of enemies in this town. People you do not want to be enemies with. That tidepool story might have gone too far.”
As night fell, investigators were still sweeping the fields south of the river for evidence and pieces of wreckage. People slowly began to gather in the streets outside of Olo Alaia with candles for an impromptu memorial. A small altar began to appear on the street, and then began to grow – with flowers, candles, drawings of Gwynneth Paltrow, handwritten notes, blunts, red sneakers, and half-empty jars of Magic Cookie Butter.
The town was grieving. And as we all know, grief never really goes away. It becomes a room in your house with a half-open door, one you pass quietly, again and again.
Nosara Lately, we hardly knew ya.
