Taea spots the ship; at first he thinks it’s a yacht as it draws closer, but then it’s a ship, and I go, “Oh, where?” and he says, “Here, come and take a look, Uncle; there’s a ship!” Uncle doesn’t bother to lift his head, like the way he used to. I move to the front of the tinnie ; Taea and Uncle are in the back, tryin’ to give the tinnie the least little bit of lift. I wait for a little while, and then start waving. They’re sayin’, “Wave now. Wave now!”
Everything is a super effort, so I balance myself, and start waving my shorts around.
“Wave, wave! Go on, give ’em another wave!”
I wave again as the ship comes closer. They’re gettin’ closer and closer, and before we know it, they’re no more than six hundred metres away. That’s when the waving goes berserk. I’m buck-naked, standing as high as I can, and I’m swingin’ the white shorts around, up in the air. The ship is really close now, and there are two men on the top deck, pointing in our direction, and both have binoculars.
They’re looking at us, and I’m yelling, “Hey! Hey! Can you see us?”
“It doesn’t matter, says Taea. “Keep on waving!
My uncle is waking from his self-imposed blues, opening his eyes.
“Keep waving!”
So I’m waving, and they’re sort of just parking up, three hundred metres away, and they’re takin’ a crawl, and letting down a small boat, and over they come in their small boat. There’s two of ’em, and they’re heading straight for us! This is just an unreal feeling; they just … it’s like meeting aliens on the moon, only more so. The boat’s coming just for us, and getting closer and closer. Maybe our prayers have been answered. A miracle finally happens. We suffer, and we know we can’t suffer any more. We think we’re dyin’, and we’ll be no good if anyone finds us, ’cause we’ll be too brain-damaged. We can’t push it any further. The sailor is talking.
“This is the only ship around here, and you’re the only thing we picked up on radar, and we’re thinking … thinking it’s a good-sized log, and there’ll be plenty of fish around.
“Help us out of this boat!”
I’m ready to cry all over again if they don’t want to help us. I refuse to take no for an answer.
“Hey, what happened, bro?” This is a Kiwi bloke, fairly big.
“We’re in a lot of trouble. My uncle’s nearly dead. We’ve been floatin’ in water two and a half days. Can you help us?”
“Yeah!”
“Quick, jump in!”
I lose it completely then. All I want to do is get into that boat. I nearly tangle my foot in the propeller. I’m ready to jump in the back.
“Hang on, not there! Come around to the front.”
I hop in the front, sit down, and Teya also hops aboard.
“How’s your uncle?”
“Not good. Can’t even walk. Can you help us get him out?”
“We’ll sort something out.”
We start moving off.
“Hey, my uncle!”
They drop us off by a net, a thick net slung on the side of the ship. We hook onto it. We haven’t got the strength to climb, so we wrap our bodies in the net, and the sailors haul us up. We’re in a complete state of shock as we watch the sailors go back for my uncle – we watch as they get a rope on the tinnie, and tow uncle back to the ship, where a crane winches Uncle and the tinnie onboard. There’s a couple of Fillipinos, and two islanders who’re starin’ at us. They probably think we don’t speak English. When they find that we do, they say, “How long you bin lost?”
“Forty-six days, man.”
“Oh, man, this is a miracle! Did you pray?”
“Yeah, it’s the only thing we had to believe in.”
“Well, your prayers have been answered ‘cause we took you for a log!”
They dump Uncle on the deck, and we all break out into big smiles. We’re given soap and water, and that’s our first hit with fresh water; it’s a really foreign experience. The cook prepares us something to eat, small portions, soup and rice from the galley. We have warm clothes to wear, and we sit in the men’s dining room, half-dreaming.
“You got everything you need now?”
It’s one of the men who rescued us in the boat.
“Yeah, we’re fine!”
Other sailors are buzzing in and out of the room, peering at us. They whisper among themselves and point, as if we’re specimens in a museum.
“You wanta watch a movie?”
I’m thinkin’ about nothin’ else but the warmth and feel of the solid floor under my bare feet, of being alive at the point of death, and they want to show us a movie!
“Go on; it’ll help take your mind off what happened.”
“A movie?”
“Yeah, why don’t we?” prods Taea.
“I got just the very movie that’ll make your day!”
The sailor inserts a disc in the machine, and soon we’re all watching Eddie Murphy in “The Nutty Professor”.
The sailors go about their work, leave us alone with food all over the place, little custard tarts and scones. We have a small treat, but we’ve been warned about not to eat too much. I can’t take my eyes off the food. I move across the room for a piece of creamy sponge cake. I’m not really in the moment. I can’t stop movin’, taking it all in.
“Grab some for me, too!”
“Grab your own cake!”
Uncle eats a small helping, and I follow it with a chocolate muffin. I eat too quickly, and the cake jams in my throat. I stumble along a corridor and into a toilet, so I can wash it down with water. A seaman pops his head in.
“Are you okay in there, matey?”
The muffin is jammed in my throat. I realise what I’m doing to myself. I’ve just been rescued, and here I am, choking slowly to death. The muffin goes down in an agonising movement, but it does go down. Catching my breath, I stare into the mirror of the toilet, alarmed at the difference, by what has happened to my body. The foreigner in the mirror is a shock. I’ve never been so skinny in my life. I see ribs poking out of my chest. I never look like this, never with a beard, and I’m jet black, probably the blackest I’ve ever been.
No more looking at myself. I switch off the light, exiting the toilet, and move back down the corridor. Suddenly I’m lost, and there are doors everywhere. I choose one, and find myself on deck, gazing out on the endless sprawl of a swelling ocean. A Maori sailor, built for rugby, appears from out of nowhere.
“How you doin’, pal?”
“Good.”
“Like a smoke?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The sailor cups his hands around the flame to light the cigarette, the first one since I can’t remember when. The smoke enters my lungs like a deadly missile, while another heads to the centre of my brain, wham! Huge cough! The deck sways violently.
“You okay?”
“I better get back inside.”
“Yeah, you look like you need to lie down.”