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ESCAPE
FROM VIETNAM Page 11 Drifting
at sea I didn't regain consciousness until my partner, the teacher came and woke me up. 5 hours had passed since I passed out, and it was now our turn again. I was still very tired and sleepy but the rest was over. I took a few minutes to stretch my aching, wet and abused body. It was going to be another brutal hour of hard work. I suddenly realized that the boat no longer shaking violently as before. The rain had stopped and the sun was shining softly outside. I couldn't believe it! God was merciful after all! The storm was over and we were still alive. I completely lost all consciousness for the past 5 hours, and had the boat foundered last night, I would have been an ignorant ghost. The sudden realization bring a renewed source of strength to my tired muscles. I climbed back to the window and began the mechanical task of taking the bucket full of water and threw it out the window again. The ocean was very calm now. The towering waves of the previous night were no longer there. It was as if the storm last night had never existed or it was just a product of my imagination. As I worked, I talked to the teacher and other people in the engine room to find out what happened during the past 5 hours. I was told that the storm lasted until an hour ago, then gradually died down. While the boat didn't founder, it sustained substantial damages from the storm. The hole at the bottom of the engine cabin was a little larger now, so water was coming a little bit more rapidly. The crew men and the mechanics had tried to plug the hole to no avail. The rudder of the boat was broken, and the boat was stopping dead in water. The two crewmen jumped into the sea and was under the boat, trying to fix the rudder. They had been working on it for the past half hour. Not only that, the steering cabin on the roof of the boat, where the boat owner put all navigational tools such as maps and compass, was blown off into the sea. The captain, who was steering the boat through the storm, was nearly blown into the ocean himself. The storm last night had blown us off course, and with all of our navigational tools at the bottom of the South China Sea, no one had any idea where we were. In addition, our water supply was reduced from two to one barrel. While we escaped the certain death last night, our situation now was still very desperate: we were lost at sea with little food and water left in a disabled boat. My optimism was quickly deflated as I learned of our situation. Nevertheless, I still felt much better than last night. My clothes started to dry as the sun came up and I didn't feel the same penetrating cold of last night any more. While working steadily, I silently prayed to Buddha to save us from death again. Looking out from the window, I could see nothing except for water all around us. It was as if our boat was the only thing that floated in the South China Sea at this time. The meager energy that I recovered from my 5 hours slumber quickly dissipated. I hadn't eaten or drunk anything for the past 18 hours. My throat was burning with thirst and I could hear my stomach growling incessantly. At my request, the mechanics got me a small cup of the gasoline-laced water. He now became the jealous guardian of the water barrel, which would be the key to our survival for the rest of the journey. I quickly gulped down the precious cup of water. It still tasted terrible, but at least it relieved the burning sensation in my tongue and my mouth. Tired, thirsty, hungry, and afraid as I was, I still managed to maintain a stoic expression. The three hard years of living under the Communists had taught me the virtue of silence: it saved energy, and it hide my vulnerability. Besides, it was useless to complain to anyone on the boat any way. Everyone was facing the same thirst, hunger and danger. When we were relieved of our shift, I was ready to collapse again. I staggered to my corner and lie down for half an hour. I couldn't sleep again because the sun was coming up and it was getting hot. By now, the crew men had successfully fixed the rudder and the boat was moving again. No one had any idea where we were, so the captain decided to move southward, using the position of the sun as an indicator of direction. He estimated that we probably were blown northeast by the storm last night, so if we moved in the southwest direction, we probably should be able to reach Malaysia in 4 or 5 days. As soon as I heard his announcement that we probably would probably reached land in 4 or 5 days, my heart sunk at the thought of staying on this decrepit boat for such a long period. Even if the sea wouldn't get rough again, I was not sure if my aching body would be able to withstand the agonizing labor, thirst and hunger for another day. After half an hour of rest, the soreness and pains in my muscles seemed to subside somewhat. With some of energy starting to return to my body, a sense of optimism also came into my head. I kept talking quietly to myself that I should be glad that I was still alive and not injured. If God didn't let me die in the brutal storm last night, may be he wouldn't let me die. May be this was just a test of God to see how much I could take. To me, survival now became a duel between me and a supernatural power. So far, I had won because I was still alive. After mumbling for 15 minutes to psyche myself up, I managed to get up and walked outside to the dock to take a look at the vast ocean. A section of the railing was completely demolished by the flying water barrel last night. The surface of the sea was so calm, I had trouble believed that a violent storm just passed by us 3 hours ago. |