On the third day, we really started to feel the hunger, and we knew we couldn’t catch any fish without our tackle. The panic started to overwhelm us, and it was difficult to keep calm. All those question racing around in my head. Would somebody find us in time? Would we survive? Would only one of us survive? And would it be me?
The day was long and hot, and we could feel the burning of the sun on our dry skin. Sometimes we tried to jump in the water to cool off, and hide from the burning sun, but we were out on the open sea, so of course there were sharks. We had to take cover in our tiny boat from the sharks, but luckily they didn’t feel threatened so they left us alone.
May 6.
On the fourth day, the days were starting look a lot like each other, because nothing new ever happened. We tried to settle our thirst with sea water, like the day before. We tried to cool off in the ocean, but the sharks paid us another visit. We tried not to think of our hunger, but were unsuccessful. Then suddenly it became strangely quiet. No wind, no waves, no movement, no nothing. Mike and me looked at each other, both knowing what this meant. It was going to storm, and we had a next to nothing chance of surviving. We had to think fast, before the storm really hit us. We took the sail down, tied ourselves to the boat, and tied ourselves together. We had to stick together no matter what, it was our only chance. We lay down in the bottom of the boat clenching ourselves to the railing and then we waited.
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