undamaged port hull facing the oncoming waves, using an improvised sea anchor of heavy nylon rope and two litre plastic barrels of paraffin. That evening, Mary and I sat together holding hands, as the motion of the ship brought more and more water in through the broken planks. We both felt the end was very near. But Wavewalker rode out the storm and by the morning of January , with the wind easing, I tried to get a reading on the sextant.
Back in the chartroom, I worked on wind speeds, changes of course, drift and current in an effort to calculate our position. The best I could determine was that we were somewhere in , kilometres of ocean looking for a kilometre-wide island. While I was thinking, Sue, moving painfully, joined me. The left side of her head was now very swollen and her blackened eyes narrowed to slits.
She gave me a card she had made. On the front she had drawn caricatures of Mary and me with the words: “Here are some funny people. Did they make you laugh? I laughed a lot as well.” Inside was a message: “Oh, how I love you both.
So this card is to say thank you and let’s hope for the best.” Somehow we had to make it. I checked and rechecked my calculations. We had lost our main compass and I was using a spare which had not been corrected for magnetic variation. I made an allowance for this and another estimate of the influence of the westerly currents which flow through this part of the Indian Ocean.
About p.m., I went on deck and asked Larry to steer a course of degrees. If we were lucky, I told him with a conviction I did not feel, he could expect to see the island at about p.m. Then with a heavy heart, I went below, climbed on my bunk and amazingly, dozed off. When I woke it was p.m., and growing dark.
I knew we must have missed the island, and