At twilight, we pull the boats ashore, because the fishermen won’t sail at night. We disembark and search for whatever we can find: firewood, edible vegetation, the occasional small animal or bird we can catch with our hands. During the day, we run fishing lines off the sides of the boat. We’re wet, sick, and terribly afraid.
At first light, Paulinus quickly leads us in prayers, and we launch the boats as soon as the tide allows. I almost wish our puny vessels would sink and relieve us of this desperate journey. But they struggle on in their wobbly dance upon the sea. I stop bailing seawater from the bottom of the boat to look at the horizon.
A voice in my ear. “Have courage.”
It’s Hud. The man we forced to come with us. I move away from him.
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