The girlfriend of tragic FIFO worker Bill Carter has poured her heart out in an emotional tribute after police confirmed a body believed to be his was found – ending a heartbreaking 10-day search that began when he mysteriously ditched his flight home from the airport and headed to a lonely beach instead.

Sarah Jenkins, 24, the pretty Perth teacher who had been Bill’s rock for the past three years, posted a tear-jerking message on social media just hours after the grim discovery was announced: “I can’t believe you’re gone, Bill. You were my everything. I wish I’d known how much you were hurting. Fly high, my love. I’ll love you forever.”

Her raw words have been liked and shared thousands of times, with strangers and friends alike flooding the comments with broken-heart emojis and messages of support as Western Australia reels from the loss of the popular 25-year-old.

Bill – full name William Patrick Carter – vanished on December 6 after his devoted mum Jenny O’Byrne dropped him at Perth Airport for what should have been a straightforward flight back to his mining camp near Karratha. The pair had even stopped for a cheerful breakfast together, with Jenny snapping that now-heart-wrenching selfie of the two of them smiling over coffee.

But in a twist no one saw coming, Bill never checked in. Instead, he jumped in a taxi and asked to be taken to Trigg Beach – a stunning stretch of coastline 30km away in Perth’s ritzy northern suburbs.

CCTV captured him stepping out near the surf club around 2.40pm, small backpack on his shoulder, dressed casually in a black t-shirt, shorts and white sneakers. Witnesses saw the slim, 174cm lad with brown hair and piercing blue eyes wandering north along the coastal path, looking deep in thought. And then… nothing.

When he didn’t show up at the remote Pilbara site, panic set in. Colleagues alerted his family, and by evening Jenny was frantically reporting him missing. What followed was a massive search operation that gripped the state – police on foot, drones overhead, volunteers combing the beaches, and desperate appeals plastered across every news outlet and social media feed.

As the days dragged on, Jenny bravely faced the cameras, revealing her “quiet, gentle” son had been battling private demons. “He’d been going through some personal stuff,” she said, voice cracking. “There were concerns for his wellbeing.” Those carefully chosen words now carry devastating weight.

Friends and co-workers painted a picture of a likeable bloke who kept his struggles hidden behind a ready smile. “Bill was the guy who’d always help you out on site,” one mate told Daily Mail Australia. “But FIFO life is brutal – weeks away, the heat, the isolation. It gets to even the strongest.”

On Tuesday December 16, the call every family dreads came. Police told Jenny a body had been located during continued searches in the northern coastal area. While formal identification is still being finalised through forensic procedures, officers are confident it is Bill. Crucially, they stressed there are no suspicious circumstances, and a report will be prepared for the Coroner.

The moment Jenny was taken to view the remains is said to have been utterly soul-destroying. Family sources describe her collapsing in floods of tears, whispering over and over, “My boy, my beautiful boy.” The grief was so intense that support officers had to physically hold her up as she was led from the room.

Sarah, who had been glued to Jenny’s side throughout the ordeal, was there too. Insiders say the young teacher was “inconsolable”, clutching a photo of the couple from their last holiday together – the same trip Bill had just returned from before everything unravelled.

The couple had met at Murdoch University, where Bill was studying before he jumped into the lucrative world of mining. Sarah, training to be a primary school teacher, was drawn to his easy-going nature and dry humour. “They were proper goals,” a uni friend recalled. “Always holding hands, planning adventures. Bill talked about proposing one day, saving up for a ring with his FIFO money.”

But behind the happy photos lay a quieter truth. Sources close to the pair say Bill had confided in Sarah about feeling trapped by the FIFO cycle. The big paychecks came at a cost – months of 12-hour shifts in scorching heat, sleeping in dongas, missing birthdays and weekends with loved ones. After his recent overseas break, the prospect of heading straight back to camp had hit him hard.

“He told me he felt like he was drowning,” Sarah reportedly shared with close friends. “Not literally, but like the lifestyle was swallowing him up. He wanted out eventually – maybe go back to uni, do something with his hands that didn’t mean being away all the time. But the money was too good, and he didn’t want to let anyone down.”

Mental health campaigners say Bill’s story is tragically familiar in the resources sector. “FIFO workers face unique pressures,” explained Matt Collins from Mates in Mining. “The roster can wreak havoc on relationships and mental health. Too many blokes suffer in silence because there’s still that old-school stigma.”

Companies have rolled out more support in recent years – on-site counsellors, mandatory wellness checks, apps for confidential chats – but advocates argue it’s still not enough. Lifeline and Beyond Blue report spikes in calls from regional and mining communities every roster changeover.

As Perth comes to terms with the loss, tributes have poured in from across the state. The Trigg Beach surf club lowered its flag to half-mast, while Bill’s old school, Bunbury Cathedral Grammar, held a minute’s silence. Colleagues at the Pilbara site plan a special memorial on their next swing.

Funeral arrangements are being kept private for now, but both families have requested space as they navigate the coronial process. Sarah’s parents, Mark and Lisa Jenkins, successful business owners from Scarborough, have stepped up to help with costs and logistics, reportedly telling Jenny, “Bill was family to us too.”

In a touching gesture, Sarah has asked that instead of flowers, donations go to a mental health charity supporting young tradespeople. “Bill would have wanted that,” she wrote online. “He always said real strength is asking for help when you need it.”

The Coroner’s investigation will examine all circumstances in the coming months, but early indications point to a heartbreaking personal decision made in a moment of despair.

For Jenny, the pain of that final airport wave goodbye will never fade. “I keep replaying it,” she confided to a friend. “If only I’d known how heavy his heart was. I would have turned the car around and brought him straight home.”

As Christmas lights twinkle across Perth suburbs, one house in Kelmscott will stay dark this year. Sarah, meanwhile, clings to memories of beach walks, movie nights and Bill’s infectious laugh.

“I’ll carry you with me always,” she posted alongside a photo of the couple watching a sunset – ironically, at Trigg Beach months earlier. “Until we meet again, my love.”

Western Australia’s tight-knit FIFO community is in mourning, but also reflecting. Bill Carter’s tragic story has sparked fresh conversations about looking out for mates, checking in on the quiet ones, and making sure no one faces the red dust alone.

If you or someone you know needs support, Lifeline is on 13 11 14 and Beyond Blue on 1300 22 4636.

Rest easy, Bill. You were loved more than you ever knew.