YOU would not imagine that the open ocean could bear a scar. But here, 12 miles out from the sandy southern coast of New York's Long Island and 6,000 feet in the air, that is just what I see. Beneath me, in the exact spot where TWA 800 met its terrible end at around
8.40 p.m. on Wednesday, there is a dark, ugly gash of unburned aviation fuel.
A little higher and we would be at the same altitude at which the 747 jumbo jet, bound for Paris, erupted into a fireball and plummeted.
Then it was dark, making rescue efforts near impossible. This, though, is a perfect summer's day and the rescue mission is fully under way: I count 20 vessels as they search still in the rapidly fading hope that, by some miracle, survivors might be found.
From the site, a relay of ships is strung north to the small pleasure port of East Moriches. Equipment is being sent out to help with the search, including technology to locate the aircraft's black box that may reveal the cause of the accident.
It was an aircraft of the New York Air Guard on night manoeuvres that first witnessed the explosion. "There was a large flash", reported Lieut Col Charles Sties, "then the debris began breaking up. The air guard plane headed towards the scene but pulled back because debris was still falling".
Local people reported seeing a large explosion, then a falling fireball, followed by a trail of dark smoke.
In East Moriches, authorities were trying to drive away onlookers on the shore. Sitting in his small fishing boat early in the morning, Mr Fred Spiers voiced puzzlement at the exodus to the ocean. "I don't know what they are going to see, except a load of bodies out there", he said.