The life raft bobbed in the ocean and Nigel wondered at his luck. Yesterday, he had been Nigel Starsky, the award winning novelist. Today, he was stuck on a life raft in the god-forsaken ocean.
It was his fault of course. He always wondered how the life raft equipment worked. The night before, he had waited for the deckhands to get tired, then he snuck up to one of the canisters.
Originally he wanted to move the canisters on deck, but that was too difficult to do on the ship side, so he climbed over the railing instead and tried to lift it. He had been right, the canister came loose, but Nigel lost his balance, sending himself and the canister into the ocean.
The cruise ship hadn't even stopped, it just continued on over the horizon. The life raft had deployed automatically and it took all Nigel had to just get into the life raft, for he didn't know how to swim.
All in all, his situation wasn't so bad. He had enough food and water to last ten people for a week. It was only a matter of time before a cruise ship or coast guard cutter would rescue him. There was absolutely no need for him to be worried.
He stopped reflecting to scan the seas. He squinted and then saw it. A ship was coming. It wasn't distinct, but it could definitely see him. It had sails, perhaps one of those more adventurous cruise lines, with romantic notions of the high seas.
