Hungarian journalist joins first post-crash tour

As the duck boat dropped into the brown water of the Delaware River on Wednesday, I had a pang of fear. This must have been the way those Hungarian tourists felt in July. Nervous but excited.

On board were photographers and reporters like me for this first voyage back since the ducks were landlocked after last year's tragic accident.

This is my first time in the United States, and, like my fellow Hungarian tourists who visited last summer, I am amazed every day by the huge buildings and distances, the confident people, the raucous culture.

How great the expectations of the 13 students must have been on that trip, Dora Schwendtner and Szabolcs Prem among them. They, too, had traveled from our small country, with only 10 million people and needing only a half-day's journey to go from border to border.

They were probably alert and thrilled. They couldn't have been happier, I suppose. And we know how much they were looking forward to this journey - Schwendtner counted on a calendar the days until her departure.

I had been counting the days, too, getting ready to visit a friend in Philadelphia, and now I was joining the new duck tour. As we got to the vehicle, I was relieved. I thought, "This actually doesn't look so insecure."

As the engines started and I smelled the fuel and the small vessel began moving with its funny, singing, joking, quacking captain, Norman Schultz, I got carried away. July 7, 2010, had been, they say, a really hot day - the perfect time for a Ride the Ducks trip on the river's cool waves.

I'd seen the historical part of Philadelphia for the first time and was chatting and looking around when Schultz informed us that we were going to splash down soon. Suddenly, hitting the water, I felt less comfortable. The river was so close, the water so cold, and in my mind, pictures of the terrible accident appeared. Those people scrambling in the water, their arms flailing, the calls for help.

Then, quickly, my fright was gone again, and I could imagine how great it must be to enjoy a hot, summer day in a duck, riding the swells and taking in the breeze, the spray, the sun.

What happened to Schwendtner and Prem is tragic beyond expression, especially for their families. The parents searching for answers I can understand. In my country, their country, people feel their loss and cannot be objective.

But Wednesday, I learned that people - tourists as well as Philadelphians - have missed the ducks and asked when they'd return, and I understood why they are such a popular attraction, letting riders be free on the water and see the sturdy life on its banks.

Schwendtner and Prem must have felt something like that, too.