The group of 33 heroes who were trapped underground in a Chilean mine for 69 days survived through teamwork, sheer will, and discipline. They rationed food, comforted one another, explored their dire surroundings together, and contributed to their makeshift world in unspeakable ways simply to hang on. Interestingly, in light of an upcoming book by New York Times reporter Jonathan Franklin, new facts have emerged about the miners’ underground adventure.
First of all, in somewhat less surprising news, the miners’ families smuggled marijuana to them in letters. This created tension in the group, as the stoners would secretly go off and do their thing, while the others would remain at “camp,” jealous that they were not invited to smoke the reefer. Officials became so worried about the underground drug war that they discussed using police dogs to “weed” out the contraband from the sealed letters. Pun intended.
Moreover, in their first two weeks underground, the miners were so afraid of running out of food that they considered cannibalism. They talked about the Uruguayans who, trapped in the Andes after a plane crash in 1972, resorted to eating other passengers who had died. They weren't quite desperate enough for a menu of sweaty miner, so instead, they rationed a spoonful of tuna to each man every three days. They also wrote farewell notes to their loved ones. As the tuna became scarce, they even prayed that the two remaining cans would magically duplicate. They were probably stoned when that happened. Once communication with the outside world was established, the miners were able to obtain food and request other items. You would think they would be concerned about soap, food, water, toiletries, clothing, maybe some booze, newspapers, medicine, a copy of Taylor Swift's new album - essential things. But no, you would be mistaken.
Of utmost importance was their demand for blow-up sex dolls. The doctor in charge of the rescue mission, Dr. Jean Romagnoli, refused the request; he feared that the sex dolls would cause extreme jealousy amongst the miners because they would have to share them. One company offered to donate ten, but the doctor would only agree to 33 dolls or none. He totally cock-blocked them by saying, “Otherwise they would be fighting for inflatable dolls: whose turn is it? Who was seen with whose fiancee? You are flirting with my inflatable doll.” Yeah, that isn’t weird at all. And it sounds entirely sanitary. I don't understand why the potential donor couldn't just kick in the other 23 dolls; I mean, these men were trapped underground in total hell, the least they deserved was some inflatable pleasure. To compromise and appease the miners’ horniness, the doctors sent down pornographic pin-up posters from La Cuarta, some dirty Chilean skin mag.
The fact that violence could ensue over an inflatable female-looking rubber mannequin both humors and horrifies me. When your life is on the line, it is nice to know what is really important. And I’ll be damned if blow-up sex dolls aren’t vital to one’s survival.