departure lounge were occupied. For Tim and me it was the usual, our monthly crew change. I didn’t know the other lad. Dried tears stained his face. I didn’t like to ask.

The door swung opened and five men marched in, bulky black bags in each hand. I spotted Dave, gave him a smile, shook his hand, “You alright man?”

“Aye, made the most of my time on shore at least. How’s it here?”

“Steady drilling, nothing too stressful. Replaced the draw-works encoder. It’s all in here.” I handed him the dirty sheet of A4, my official handover. “The engineer’s a nice guy, if you can look past his long lunches and musical taste.”

Dave rolled his eyes and removed his life jacket, passed it to me. I put it on, hefted my luggage. He winked, “Enjoy your time a home, you’ll be back here before you know it!”

“Don’t remind me. Have a good hitch mate.”

Dave grinned, gave me a nod, and I shuffled after the other orange suited men out onto the walkway. Sea tumbled beneath the open lattice work.

The helipad crowned the rig. Here air. Below, industry. A stand of drill pipe being driven from the derrick deep into rock. Brightly clad figures scurrying about the decks, lit up in harsh white light. And all around the ocean.

I found my seat and struggled with the four point harness. That done I reached behind me, grabbed the ear-defenders, and shut my eyes. It was relaxing, even soothing in in its own way. Blunted senses, the white-noise of rotary blades, a gentle rocking as they span. I barely heard the pilot speak before I was away. When I awoke I’d be looking down on Scotland.

#

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Sharp noises dragged me up. What was that?

Beep… Beep…

The alarm? Shit. Oh shit.

“Brace! Brace! Brace! Prepare for water landing. Brace!”

Shit. I planted my feet, hands gripping the seat either side of me. Muscles strained against plastic. My heart hammered, my head swam. Oh shit. I might die. Oh fuck. I forced myself to breathe. In… and out… In… and out…

Fwoosh!

The sea exploded. Metal twisted, screeched. My grip was torn from the seat, my bones rattled. I heard moaning. That was good, moans were good. Others were alive.

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My hand went to the harness release. I felt my feet rising, a cold pressure on them. Damn. We were already sinking. The water rose up around me. I told myself not to panic and prayed the life raft would deploy.

I put my elbow to the wall, locating the window. In position. Freezing water reached my chin. Not long. I fought down a scream. One big, slow inhalation of breath through my nose and my head was under. One… two… three… four… five…

I slammed my elbow against the window and felt it move out into the ocean. My heart skipped a beat. Hand on the opening, I released the harness and dragged myself through. Icy darkness surrounded me. I could see nothing, hear nothing. The void. I was lost.

Silencing fear I tugged the cord of my life-jacket. It inflated, dragging me upwards. I surfaced with a splash, gasping for air. Took in two great lungfuls. I was alive, damn it. Alive.

The weather met me. Winds struck and waves tossed, robbing me of breath. I pulled myself forward, span around, trying to thrust my body from the water, find safety. Somewhere. The ocean spat in my face, burning my throat, stinging my eyes. I coughed salt water.

Again I turned, eyes straining against the spray. Again I kicked my feet, shoved my arms downward. There. I saw it. Light. A blinking light calling me. The raft.

I swam, aching, cold. Water clung like weights, my joints flaming at its pull. Nearly there. With a cry I hauled myself into the little craft, landing on my face. I heard voices, but for a moment simply lay breathing, enjoying the act.

I took a few deep, raw inhalations. My heart slowed ever so slightly. Bit by bit. Adrenaline and water dripped from my eyes and ears, and the world slid back into place. The sky. The sea. The creaking rubber.

“Mack?” I was shaken, “Mack? You alive man?”

I groaned. The tang of salt on me. A firm grip seized my shoulder, and I was rolled over onto my front. I blinked. Lifejacket torches showed me two wet faces.

“Tim?” I reached out, put my hand on him, “Thank fuck you’re ok.”

“Aye and thank fuck twice for you mate. Figured you’d met your maker.” He grinned.

I tried to smile.

“Come on, we best get the roof up, keep the spray off us at least. I’ve set the transponder, so they’ll know we’re here.” Tim crawled to the round wall of the raft, began dragging the tarpaulin out and over. “Give us a hand Carl,” he said, waving the other man over.

We both moved to help Tim with the roof, trying not to rock the little craft too much.

“Any sign of the pilots?” I asked.

“Must’ve been near five minutes since we hit Mack.” Tim shook his head, “If they… I’m sorry.”

It took a second to penetrate. Two, dead. Blank, too shocked for tears. I slumped against the side of the raft, breathing. In and out. Forcing myself calm. I wasn’t the only one. It just didn’t seem real.

Night spread above us, the sky mirrored in the basaltic sea that tossed us to and fro. Time stretched out. We had no energy for talk, no strength for more than waiting. No rescue came.

“Do you have any water?” asked Carl. His head was leant back against the wall. I reached down to the leg pocket of my drysuit, glad I always took a bottle.

“Here you are man. Save me a drop though, eh?”

He took the bottle, creased a smile. “Cheers.”

“I’ve a bottle too, and a magazine, so don’t freak out,” said Tim, “We’ve got enough to tide us over till the buggers come get us. Can’t be too much longer.”

The few mouthfuls of water eased my throat, but left me unquenched. We smiled to each other, silent comrades. Tim made a go of reading his magazine, but put it down after only a few pages. The storm rose up, a wall around us. I longed for sleep, for rescue. It wouldn’t be long. Couldn’t be.

To be continued...