<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>TIGHAR - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/tighar/</link><description>Latest from the TIGHAR desk at vo.rs.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Wed, 11 Jun 2025 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/tighar/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Amelia Earhart on Nikumaroro: The Castaway Hypothesis</title><link>https://vo.rs/unravelled/amelia-earhart-on-nikumaroro-the-castaway-hypothesis/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;On the morning of 2 July 1937, the US Coast Guard cutter &lt;em&gt;Itasca&lt;/em&gt; sat off Howland Island, a speck of sand and scrub barely two miles long in the central Pacific, waiting to guide Amelia Earhart&amp;rsquo;s Lockheed Electra in for a refuelling stop. Her radio calls grew tighter and more anxious as the morning wore on — fuel running low, no sign of the island, a bearing she couldn&amp;rsquo;t quite close. Then the transmissions stopped. The Navy searched a swathe of ocean larger than Texas over the following two weeks and found nothing: no wreckage, no oil slick, no life raft. Earhart and her navigator, Fred Noonan, entered history as the aviation world&amp;rsquo;s most famous vanishing act. Most reconstructions leave them there, sunk somewhere in deep water near Howland. But since 1989, a persistent group of researchers has argued the plane never went into the sea at all — that it came down on a reef roughly 350 nautical miles southeast, on an uninhabited atoll called Nikumaroro, and that for some period afterwards, Earhart and Noonan were alive on land, broadcasting for help that never fully understood what it was hearing.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Wed, 11 Jun 2025 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>