The men then exchanged some information. There was a great deal of anger in them. They thought: “If I am going to be drowned, why, in the name of the seven mad gods who rule the sea, was I permitted to come this far and think about sand and trees?”

The waves grew stronger. They seemed always just about to break and roll over the little boat. The coast was still far away. The sailor said: “Boys, the boat won’t live three minutes more, and we’re too far out to swim. Shall I take her to sea again, captain?”

“Yes! Go ahead!” said the captain. The sailor turned the boat and took her safely out to sea again.

“It’s funny those life-saving people haven’t seen us,” one of the men said.

“Maybe they think we’re out here for sport! Maybe they think we’re fishing. Maybe they think we’re fools.”

Once more, the sailor rowed the boat and then the reporter rowed. Suddenly, they saw a man walking along the shore.

The man stopped walking. He moved his hand in the air to wave at them. He saw them! Now he was running to the house.

The captain tied a cloth to a stick and waved it. Now there was another man on the shore. The two men waved their hands in the air, as if they were saying hello to the men in the boat.

Now, what was that moving on the shore? It was a bus – a hotel bus. A man stood on the steps of the bus and waved his coat over his head. The men in the boat wondered what he wanted to say. Was he attempting to tell them something? Should they wait for help? Should they go north? Should they go south?