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Chapter 69
On many nights I was convinced I saw a light in thedistance. Each time I set off a flare. When I had used up therocket flares, I expended the hand flares. Were they ships thatfailed to see me? The light of rising or setting stars bouncingoff the ocean? Breaking waves that moonlight and forlorn hopefashioned into illusion? Whatever the case, every time it was fornothing. Never a result. Always the bitter emotion of hoperaised and dashed. In time I gave up entirely on being savedby a ship. If the horizon was two and a half miles away at analtitude of five feet, how far away was it when I was sittingagainst the mast of my raft, my eyes not even three feetabove the water? What chance was there that a ship crossingthe whole great big Pacific would cut into such a tiny circle?
Not only that: that it would cut into such a tiny circle and seeme – what chance was there of that? No, humanity and itsunreliable ways could not be counted upon. It was land I hadto reac............
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