The Way Back to the Sea

The ship was still rolling to the impact of the waves on its beam. After one hard roll, with the ship leaning over the farthest yet, the stacks of containers on the deck collapsed over into the sea with an immense roar of twisting, smashing, breaking, and grinding metal. Instead of breaking away cleanly and relieving the ship of their burden, they remained twisted and tangled together and pulled the ship over the rest of the way onto its side.

In an instant, the foundering ship pitched all of us down into the furious ocean. I was unable to orient myself or prepare for the impact of the freezing cold water in the confusion of bodies and rafts that tumbled into the sea. By some freak of gravity, the raft I had been climbing into before we fell landed upright in the water. I still had my arms over the entrance. I did not see what happened to the rest of the crew or the other rafts. In the chaos, I could only process what was happening immediately in front of my face.

I kicked furiously and struggled to pull myself in, but I was losing my grip. The next surge of water would surely sweep me off of this fragile sanctuary. I screamed in panic, but I felt someone grab me by the strap of my lifejacket. The sailor who had gone into the raft first was still inside and saved my life by helping me to hang on. I heaved with all my strength and a rush of adrenalin while the other sailor dragged me up. I pitched headfirst into the raft and practically collapsed on the other sailor. We both struggled to hold onto the raft and keep from being washed back out of the tiny shelter as it bounced and tossed on the waves. I realized that my companion, the person that had save me, was Rose.

Another orange-clad arm caught the tube of the raft at its entranceway. Rose and I struggled over to help our shipmate. She held me by the lifejacket as I leaned over to haul him up. He looked up at me. It was Niko, the cook. I read on his face all of the panic and horror I had felt when I thought I would be swept away only a moment ago.

"Help me!" he screamed, as Rose and I struggled to pull him inside. A wave slammed into the raft as we heaved to bring him in. The raft spun violently. Niko lost his hold on the raft, and I was powerless to hold him as all the force of the sea ripped him away. He was gone. With Rose's help, I was barely able to keep from being washed away myself. We looked to see if anyone else might gain the shelter of our raft, but we saw nothing but mountains of water. There was no ship, no crew, nothing but angry water in the flashes of blue lightning.

Some shelter. The raft was tossed and battered by the sea and the winds. We sloshed around in a mostly swamped interior and bounced violently off the hard rubber tubes. The wind whipped the canopy. At times the force of the wind blew so hard that the canopy was pressing down on us. At any moment, a capricious combination of wind and wave might flip the raft over. In that buffeting capsule, the minutes passed like hours. Rose looped her arms through a handhold attached to the inside of the raft to keep from being washed away. I wrapped my arms around her, and we braced together against the tossing of the raft. We both clung desperately onto the raft and each other, trying to survive.

After what seemed like hours, the roar of the storm seemed to diminish. The worst had blown past us to savage the coast of northern Spain, though we were still tossing on substantial waves. It had grown fully dark except for the regular white flash of a distress light we lashed to the raft to aid our rescue. Now we just needed to hold on until dawn or help arrived.

We huddled together, trying to conserve and share what little warmth was generated by our bodies and for mutual reassurance. The immersion suits helped, but we were still sloshing in inches of water in the bottom of the raft. Now that the storm was a dull roar, we could communicate by shouting. We encouraged each other. It was vital to keep alert and to resist the temptation to surrender to cold and fatigue. To sleep was probably to die, we knew.

In the long hours before dawn, our energy was ebbing away. At times, we had to shake each other awake. I started to sing to keep myself thinking and focused on something. We sang pop songs, rock songs, show tunes, and our school's fight song. I sang anything I could think of.

A hymn from our maritime school's memorial service came to mind. It was held annually it in memory of alumni lost at sea. I stumbled over the words at first, but Rose recognized it too and joined in. We yelled it at the tops of our lungs against the roar of the wind. I was not a particularly devout person, but the words of the refrain were my shouted prayer that night:

O hear us when we cry to Thee,

For those in peril on the sea!

By the first glow of light, we were losing our battle with fatigue. The singing helped, but all the songs in the world would not save us from the gradual loss of energy we were experiencing. I don't know when it happened, but at some point, I closed my eyes.

A new sound brought me shockingly back to consciousness. At first, I thought it was the sound and wind of a freshening storm, but sun streamed in through the opening of the canopy. I blinked confusedly. I strained my ears. It wasn't a storm, but the roar of a helicopter engine and the thrumming of rotor blades. The wind must be from the rotor wash. I reached over to shake Rose. She didn't move, but her eyes fluttered open and focused on me. She mouthed something that was lost in the whirlwind. Stupidly, I futilely tried to shout for rescue against the roar of turbine engines.

The canopy above us was sliced open with an orange knife and a watery sun poured in on us. I saw a rescuer in an orange dry suit, bright yellow helmet, and a diver mask slashing the rubber open to reach us. Seeing that there were people inside the raft, he turned to wave and signal to the helicopter above us. Then he raised his goggles he turned to call out to us.

"Vamonos, Amigos! Let's go!" he shouted. Weakly, I sat up. The man looked at Rose's motionless form and then pointed at me. "You! Let's go" he commanded.

"Her!" I yelled back, pointing frantically at Rose.

"Dead?" the man shouted and made a gesture with his hands like 'finished.'

"No! She's alive! Her first!" My voice cracked at the effort of shouting over the roar of the helicopter's engines and rotors.

"Okay!" The man nodded vigorously. He signaled to the helicopter again, and a basket was lowered for Rose. With surprising rapidity, she was hoisted up to the aircraft.

"You go with me!" yelled the man, as a sling was lowered down. He clipped us both in and we were snatched off the raft and pulled up to the helicopter. Once the door was shut, the engines roared as the bird tilted forward and raced toward the coast of Spain. The rescue swimmer went to work on Rose, trying to warm her up. Another airman in an orange flight suit shoved me into a seat and strapped me in.

"Is she alright?" I shouted over the rotors. Either he didn't hear me, didn't understand, or did not want to answer. He went to the rear of the small compartment where the rescue swimmer was still trying to revive Rose. I was powerless to help.

We landed at a Spanish hospital and Rose was rushed off in a gurney. I was also put on a gurney and brought inside. I was told that we were in a port city in Galicia, in the northwest corner of Spain.

I ended up spending a day in the hospital. While I was not seriously injured, I was suffering from hypothermia, dehydration, and exhaustion. They carefully warmed me up and rehydrated me through fluids in an IV. At first, they would not tell me anything of Rose's condition. Finally, later in the day, they assured me she was going to be okay. She similarly suffered only from hypothermia and dehydration, but her core temperature had been dangerously low upon admission. By late afternoon, the doctor decided I was ready to receive the procession of officials I needed to speak to.

First, a representative of Spanish Immigration and the U.S. Consulate came to provide me with paperwork documenting my entry into Spain and temporary identification for my return trip to the United States. Next came officers from the police and both Spanish and American maritime authorities. A lawyer from the shipping company came with them. While the officers made it clear I was not in trouble, they insisted on interviewing me about the circumstances of the loss of the Atlantic Endeavor. I recounted my experience for them, but I found it hard to get the words out. I was shaking when they finished their questioning.

When the officials were getting ready to leave, I asked them how many of the rest of the crew were also in the hospital here or whether any were recovering at other facilities. For a moment, no one spoke. They all exchanged uncomfortable glances. Finally, it was the Spanish maritime official who turned back to speak to me.

"I'm sorry to tell you," he said in a clipped official tone, "that you and Miss O'Connor are the only two that have been rescued so far. I thought they would have told you that already. The operation continues, but it is expected the rescue services will suspend searching after a final effort at first light tomorrow morning. They believe they would have already located any other rafts or rescue apparatus. And anyone that was still in the water... by this time... well..." His voice trailed off.

"I... I understand," I said. That was a lie. I didn't understand at all. How could we be the only ones?

"There have been some human remains recovered. Four men, I think."

"Who?"

"We don't know yet. I'm so sorry." The men made further murmurs of sympathy and then beat a hasty retreat. I didn't blame them. What could they say that would make any difference?

The doctor returned with a scowl. She was plainly displeased at the length of my interview. She recommended I stay overnight and discharge in the morning. It was already late in the evening, and she wanted me to be under observation while I regained strength, particularly since I had no one to care for me. I only agreed to stay and rest after she assured me that Rose was recovering well, but not able to have any visitors.

I was able to speak to my parents then. Someone from the staff had to help me set up the long-distance call, because my cell phone had been ruined in my pocket. My folks were hysterical, naturally. I was glad to be able to tell them I was okay, but the call did nothing to make me feel better. Although I knew they loved me and cared deeply, nothing they said gave me any comfort.

I slept shortly after. Other than the requisite interruptions by medical staff on their rounds, I did not stir until I was woken up for final processing and discharge the next morning. The staff escorted me to Rose's ward, where I found her sleeping. While I was not her family of next of kin, I was permitted to stay with her because she had been asking after me when she had been awake. Despite sleeping all night, I was still feeling tired myself. I soon nodded off in the chair by her bed.

I awoke later in the day to find Rose sitting up in her bed. She smiled when she saw I was awake, but there was something changed about her. On the ship, her eyes had twinkled with excitement and joy at the adventure at sea, but that joy was gone. It made me sad. I hoped it would return, that her bright personality was not altered forever.

I was the one to tell her about our shipmates. I was glad to be able to break the news with more sympathy than I had been afforded. Her reaction surprised me. She shrugged. I could see it was not that she was unfeeling, but that she had already resigned herself to that fact.

"I think, somehow, I already knew," she said. "How can anyone survive that sea?"

"Well, we did."

"I know. But that's the surprising thing. Not that they are dead, but that we are not," she said. She held her arms to her body and shook her head slowly. "I don't understand," she said with a shiver. I did not have a good answer for her. She just shrugged again. "I don't know what to think." She was staring at her hands and she didn't say anything for a few moments.

"Thank you for coming to sit with me," she finally said with a weak smile.

"Of course. But I think anyone would." I reached out to give her arm a reassuring grip.

"Maybe, but it helps you are here with me. The staff here are wonderful, but they don't really understand what we went through. No one does that wasn't there with us." I thought about the men who coldly informed me of the death of the rest of the crew. The only other people in the world who would understand were all dead. My friend Ben was dead. Niko was dead and I had probably witnessed his last terror-filled moments.

"I think I know what you mean," I agreed.

I talked to my parents," she said, "It was strange." I nodded. "They didn't understand. They were concerned, but I didn't know how to explain... all of this." She gestured weakly. "They meant well, but the questions were... too much. My mom wanted to fly out. I told her not to. And that interview..." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah. Mine was tough too." I held onto her arm.

"I like that I don't have to explain myself to you, because you already know. You're just here for me. We're here for each other. Like in the raft." I gave her the best smile I could manage. Later that day, we were informed that the search for any more survivors had been finally suspended.

Rose was held one more night, much as I had been. The next morning, she was discharged. We spoke to someone from the college, and they arranged our lodging for the evening and a flight back to the United States for the next day. In another day, we would be home. When I considered that, it didn't give me the feeling of comfort I thought it might. Like Rose, I didn't want to deal with the inevitable wave of family, friends, and well-wishers that would, all well-meaning, bombard me with questions and attempts at sympathy.

We were discharged from the hospital with no possessions except a handful of medical and legal papers. A social worker helped us with some cheap clothes so we did not have to leave in a hospital gown. The cab driver did not speak English, but we managed to explain we needed to stop to buy some essentials. Luckily, my wallet had been in my pocket, so I had a credit card and bank card. Rose had only her identification. It was a strange experience to be in a foreign country with nothing but the clothes on my back and a toothbrush.

When we checked into the hotel, I gave Rose a friendly hug good night, and I found my way to my room. I laid in bed trying to sleep for a long time that night. I was tired, but sleep would not come quickly.

****

The bridge phone was ringing. "What's happened?" the captain asked answering the call. His voice was calm. I did not hear the reply. "Get that engine back online before we have real problems." We were wallowing in the trough of the waves. I heard Ben on the handheld radio.

"Help me!" He cried. But there was nothing I could do to help.

The captain lifted down the radio microphone to call shore for help. "Mayday, mayday, mayday!" he called into the radio. There was no answer. The phone was still ringing.

I opened my eyes with a start. I was laying in my hotel bed, and I found I was wet with sweat, despite the room being a comfortable temperature. The phone was still ringing. I reached over to the nightstand to answer it.

"Hello?" I asked, unsure.

"Brian?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, what's the matter?" I sat upright. "Are you alright?"

"Could I... could I come talk to you for a bit? I'm having some trouble sleeping."

"Um, sure. Yeah. That would be fine." I gave her my room number. A few moments later I heard a tentative knock on the door. When I opened the door to let her in, Rose seemed a little embarrassed to disturb me. I tried to put her at ease by letting her know that I was having a hard time sleeping as well. I told her about my disturbing dream, and she nodded with understanding. We sat on the short couch against one wall of my hotel room.

"Yeah," she said. "For me, I keep seeing their faces. Our friends." I nodded. She continued, "I think about the look on Niko's face when we couldn't help him, or how Ben's voice sounded on the radio." I shivered. "And I just keep struggling with... why?" she said

"Do you mean, why did it happen?"

"Yes. But also, why us? What are we doing here? Is there a reason? Are we meant to cure cancer or something? It's overwhelming."

"I don't know. Maybe there's no reason." I shrugged

"I just feel awful," she said. "And I'm a little anxious about the plane."

"The plane?"

"Flying over the ocean. Every time I fell asleep, I dreamed about crashing into a storm." She shuddered. "When I woke up, I would feel a moment of panic. I felt like I was in the raft again, but this time I was by myself." I leaned over to put an arm around Rose to comfort her, which she accepted gratefully. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't want to bother you."

"No, it's alright. I appreciate having someone to talk to. I don't really feel great either."

She turned in her seat to face me. "Look, maybe this is too weird, but would you lay with me to help us both fall asleep." I blinked in surprise.

"Okay, um, I guess so." My tone must have revealed my uncertainty, because she launched into an explanation.

"When I think about the raft, it's upsetting. But I remember how comforting it was to have someone holding on with me. It was reassuring. I just thought that, if I we tried to fall asleep that way, it would help. Especially if one of us had more nightmares or something."

"Yeah, I think that might be okay." I was already feeling a little better just to talk with her about the thoughts that were troubling me. It would be comforting to have her stay with me.

We talked a little more about the flight home. Rose was leaning toward canceling her flight until she could see someone about the anxiety she was feeling about the plane. I told her I would stay with her a few days until she was ready to go. I wasn't about to leave her alone.

Eventually, we decided to try to get some rest. Rose laid down on the bed and I scooted next to her to spoon her, which was similar to how we had been holding on to the raft. I put an arm over her to hold her and she held onto it with her own arm. I felt her relax and let out a long sigh as we both tried to drift off.

"Thank you," she whispered. I squeezed her a little tighter with my arm in acknowledgement. Finally, I was able to get some good sleep.

The next morning, when I woke, I felt the now too-familiar panic of not knowing where I was in the dark and thinking for an instant, I was still in the life raft. Rose's warm body against mine was instantly comforting. I snuggled up closer against her and felt her grip my arm a little tighter again.

We got up a little later. We called in together to the college and explained that we might not be able to leave for the U.S. right away. Again, our school was very understanding because of what we had been through. They basically told us to let them know when we wanted to fly back and if we needed help with anything else. Our immigration paperwork gave us up to ninety days in Europe, so we had no legal or logistical hurdles to taking a few more days before we went back.

Our families were a little less understanding. Both sets of parents wanted us home as soon as possible. While their worry was understandable, there attitude only heightened our anxiety about inevitable homecomings. What we both really felt like we needed was more time to process what happened without external stressors. In the end, they had to respect that we were adults and trust us to know what we needed at that moment.