Attacked at Sea by Michael J. Tougias

Author:Michael J. Tougias
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

14

BATTLING THE COLD

SONNY AND RAY (SECOND AND THIRD HOURS IN THE OCEAN)

Ray vowed to himself that he’d do whatever it took to keep his son warm, even if it meant hoisting Sonny out of the water and somehow putting the boy on his shoulders.

In the darkness, the father could faintly see Sonny’s shape but not the features of his face because high, thin clouds blocked out most of the light from the stars and moon. Ray looked toward Sonny and thought, This is all my fault. I should have known the full danger when they made me sign the release papers before we boarded the ship. He shook his head, realizing that this kind of thinking was torture. Stop. Just focus on Sonny.

A minute later, Sonny, as if reading his father’s thoughts, asked, “Will Mom and Lucille be all right?”

“They should be fine,” lied Ray. “They are probably floating on a raft just like us.”

“That’s right,” said Captain Colburn. “The ship had three rafts.”

“Where were we when the ship was torpedoed? How far from port?” Conyea asked the captain.

“About forty miles out from New Orleans. To the southwest.”

Ray turned his head in the direction of the captain and asked, “When do you think help will come?”

Captain Colburn hesitated before answering, concerned about saying anything negative in front of Sonny.

“Just tell us the truth,” said Ray. “We’re going to be fine no matter how long we have to sit on this raft.”

“Okay,” said Colburn. “We were operating on radio silence, but that doesn’t really matter, because I think the section of the ship where the radio was took a direct hit from one of the torpedoes. So the authorities on shore only know that we were scheduled to reach New Orleans about six A.M. I’m guessing that by eight A.M. they will become concerned. One of the patrol planes will start looking for us.”

Conyea, who was from New Orleans, added, “And we might get lucky. There are probably several Coast Guard and shrimp boats in the area, and one of them may find us at dawn.”

“You’re right, Mr. Conyea,” said Ray. “Just gotta sit here patiently until the sun comes up.”

“Call me George,” said Conyea.

Ray nodded. Then each survivor settled in for a long night, lost in his own thoughts. Ray tried to make an honest assessment of their situation. They had no food or water. Once the sun came up, their thirst would increase, and dehydration would wear them down with each passing hour. The weather was calm, with just a light breeze, and for that Ray was thankful. If the seas had been rough, like the day before, none of them would have been able to hang on to the flimsy raft. They were lucky indeed to be in gentle swells rather than breaking waves. Because the waves were not large, none of the survivors were seasick. However, they had no flares to signal a plane or patrol boat that might appear on the horizon.

After days of traveling from South America on the Heredia, Ray had an appreciation for the vastness of the ocean.

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