The Tybee Bomb

On February 5, 1958 the USAF lost a 7,600 pound Mark 15 nuclear bomb in Wassaw Sound off the Georgia Coast.

How could this happen you ask?

Apparently during a practice exercise, a fighter plane from Hunter Airfield collided with the B-47 bomber carrying the bomb. To protect the aircrew from a possible detonation, the bomb was jettisoned.

Some say the bomb was a functional nuclear weapon, and others say it was disabled, but some folks “in the know” ain’t saying much at all.

The military immediately went looking for it and, after a few months of searching, decided the bomb was sunk 15 feet down in mucky-muck somewhere out-that-a-way. They said, although it wasn’t armed and posed no threat, it was best not to disturb it.

It has never been officially confirmed to be a ticking-time nuclear bomb, but after all, a bomb is a bomb and there’s a very small chance that it might mysteriously one day unexpectedly blow up and nuke Tybee Island, Little Tybee, Wassaw Island and give all the rich Yankees on Skidaway Island radiation burns.


To locals, the missing nuke is referred to as The Tybee Bomb. And practically every low country fisherman will say they know exactly where the bomb is, but after sixty years nobody’s dared disturb it because…

Everybody knows it’s best to let sleeping dogs lie, and it’s probably a good idea to let a nuclear bomb lie undisturbed in Wassaw Sound out-that-a-way somewhere.

Books By JK Bovi



Fish Karma

BlogArtFishKarmaI was doing my power-walk around the neighborhood. I was fashionably attired in my stretchy pants, scrunchy top, florescent headband, moisture absorbent socks, and impact power sneakers. I had my iPod velcroed to my upper-arm, ear buds jammed into my ears, and I listened to a motivational power audio book.

I was power walking, power thinking and doing everything in power time. I was full of power!

I reached the lagoon at the mid-point of my workout that I designated my power break. I stretched my legs, flexed my arms, rolled my shoulders, and I was about to arch my back when, only two feet away, a fish flew out of the water and landed on the rocks by the lagoon.

I stopped my power everything and stared in amazement at the little colorful tropical fish. It was absolutely beautiful! It flopped around trying to find water and then, having lost the battle, it lay still gasping for life with little fish lips.

I removed my ear buds and stepped closer to the edge of the lagoon for a better look. My assessment of the dire situation was: this fish would die. It did not have the strength to return to the lagoon. The hot Georgia sun would soon bake it as crispy as potato chip. Or a bird would swoop down and gobble it up. The only way this fish would survive would be by intervention.

There was no doubt in my mind what I had to do; save the fish.

I removed my power sneakers and my moisture absorbent socks. I climbed easily down the rocky embankment and gently scooped up the brightly colored fish. I admired it in my hand for only a moment before I carefully placed it in the water. “Go back where you belong little fishie,” I said.

I guess I expected a gratitude smile bubble or at least a goodbye flip of its tail, but it darted off quickly and disappeared. I did not really need a thank you. I was content and happy knowing I did the right thing.

As I continued with my power walk my steps slowed to a casual walk and I pondered the true essence of fish karma. I had been in the right place at the right time to make a difference and although my action seemed simple to me, it had made a huge difference to another’s life.

Good fish karma is the ripple effect of doing something small, but the outcome is enormous. Take time to make a difference in the world.