CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gerry sat up and gazed out over the sea. The crescent moon cast a slight silvery glow which enabled her dark adapted eye to see the life raft and the waves. The sky had cleared and she rolled over on to her back and considered the immensity of space.
She heard Ali groan and shift position. She looked over at him. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘My head aches a little,’ he replied, ‘but it’s not too bad. So you’re still awake then?’
‘Yes, I was just passing the time by doing some star gazing,’ said Gerry. ‘You fell asleep as you finished your story of how you became a senior translator for the Iraqi foreign ministry.’ She slumped back against the side of the raft, lifted her arm and sniffed. She carried a distinct odour of jet fuel.
‘Oh yes, I remember now,’ Ali murmured thoughtfully. ‘How long until dawn do you think?’
‘Probably another two hours or so.’ The raft struck a wave and some freakish combination of wind and water sent a sheet of spray that drenched her.
‘Oh crap!’ she shouted.
‘What happened?’ Ali asked, coming wide awake.
‘A wave splashed me; I’m soaked.’ She shivered. ‘And I’m cold.’
‘It’s getting lighter,’ said Ali. She realised that the moon had set and they were able to see by the light of the approaching dawn. Maybe just a few hours of warm sunshine in the morning followed by cloudy skies with occasional rain showers at convenient intervals to replenish their water supplies was what they needed, she decided to herself with a small smile at her exacting requirements. ‘First hint of the sun above the horizon and we should each drink a half litre of water,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow we will have a quarter litre.’
‘How much should we be drinking?’ Ali asked. ‘To stay alive, I mean.’
‘If it stays cool, and we don’t do any exercise, we should drink about three litres a day.’
He spent a few moments in quiet consideration. ‘So how long will we last after our water runs out?’
‘We may last three days. Then we’ll get headaches, lethargy and eventually fall into a coma.’
‘What day is it today?’
‘Friday, the twenty ninth of May, so we will probably both be dead by Tuesday evening.’
They fell silent, each trying to avoid a descent into despair as the raft rose and sank on the Atlantic rollers. Gradually, as the raft crested a wave, they watched the sky turn brighter to the east. A layer of cloud close to the horizon began to glow pink and then the first bright red glow of the rising sun crept into sight.
‘Time to celebrate the dawn,’ said Ali.
‘Are you ready for your water ration?’
‘I am ready, but first I must pray.’
As Ali attended to his devotions, Gerry considered her own agnosticism. ‘If I uttered a prayer now and we were rescued, would I become a believer? It will take a miracle to save us. Oh god, your conflicting religions have caused more wars, death and destruction for thousands of years than anything else and I for one think we’d all be a lot better off without you, but hear the prayer of Geraldine Mary Tate who doesn’t believe for a moment in your existence but nevertheless would like to get safely off this raft to wreak vengeance on the bastards who killed her partner, condemned her to years of misery in prison, and dumped her in the sea, so when I open my eyes now I expect to see a boat coming towards us.’ She gazed all around the raft, shook her head and muttered ‘Loser!’
She retrieved the water bottle from the corner and stared at the contents until Ali announced ‘I have finished.’
‘Ok. Do you agree that your half litre takes the level down to this place on the label? Then mine will take it to this rib on the bottle?’
‘Yes that seems fair.’
‘Ok go ahead and drink.’
He took the bottle from her and began a series of careful mouthfuls, gasping in relish as the water relieved the foul, sticky, salty taste in his mouth. Each time he held the bottle up for Gerry’s inspection, acutely aware of the feral gaze of the woman who was taller than him, heavier than him and had infinitely more capacity for violent behaviour than he did.
‘That’s about it, I think,’ he said holding up the bottle and inspecting the level once more. She nodded and held out her hand for the bottle.
‘Ah, that feels a little better,’ she said having drunk her half litre. ‘Tomorrow we have only half that much, and then we can drink that dodgy stuff.’ She placed the bottle back in the corner of the raft and then gazed around at the sky before resuming her seat opposite Ali.
He made no reply for a while, but gazed up at the sun that was beginning to emerge over a layer of distant hazy cloud on the horizon. ‘We’re going to get burnt out here; at least you are, I’m much darker than you but I still need some kind of shade.’
She looked up and then screwed up her eyes as the sun suddenly shone forcefully at her. ‘You’re right.’ She remembered the kit she had pulled out of the water. ‘There’s some kind of cover I think.’
She found the bag containing the waterproof book. It was an instruction manual that described the use of the items inside the pack, These turned out to be a repair clamp, a leak stopper, a sponge, a baler and a hand pump to keep the raft inflated. There was also the large sheet of heavy duty waterproof plasticised material to unfold and form a tent-like canopy, and there should be some folding rods to support it. Apparently they were in a pocket in the floor of the raft. She crawled along the raft until she found them. She also found that there was a lamp at each end of the raft and a rubber ring on the end of a length of line to throw out and pull back any swimmers. She took an inventory of her other possessions. In a pocket was her mobile phone. She tried to switch it on but the thorough soaking had rendered it useless. She flung it over the side. Her cheap but accurate black plastic Casio watch was waterproof to 50m and working perfectly, still set on USA Eastern time. In her other pocket she found a soggy card with the telephone number and e-mail address that Dan Hall had given her just legible. She memorised both of them and put the card back in her pocket.
She looked at the other item she had found dangling from the end of the raft. It was another fabric package fastened up into a bundle with press studs. The words “Sea Anchor” were stencilled on to it. She unfastened the studs and unfolded a large bag-like device. She threw it over the side and watched it slowly fill out with water. It was plainly designed to reduce the speed of the raft through the sea so that it remained close to the crash site. Did she want to stay close to the crash site? She would decide later. Gerry read through the manual again and with Ali’s assistance she eventually had the raft canopy rigged up according to the instructions. She picked up a cylindrical rubber object with a nozzle at the end which she readily identified as a hand pump. Obviously somewhere on the raft there was a receptacle where it could be plugged in so that the raft could be kept inflated. Next she began to bail out the sea water. When the raft was nearly dry she settled down in the shade and considered their situation.