Having so recently eaten my supper and now hyperventilating with the cold water and the momentary explosion of exertive energy, my stomach is in knots. Again I take stock. What can I do? I look at my watch and note the time, 6:37 p.m. Well, in less than two hours, I think EspŽrance will be smashed on the breakwater of Point Roberts or on the reef off Lily Point. It really doesn’t matter now, does it? Sighing, I look toward Mayne Island and grasp the impossibility of what I now face.
It is beginning to sink in. I allow my cognitive senses to grasp the fact that I am about to die. I think to myself, Well, here it is. The time everyone fears. Death, the king of terrors. The time humans speculate about, contemplate and fear. What will it be like? Now I get an hour or two to think about it. I am going to die. Very simply . . . tonight, I am going to die.
I take a deep breath and think, September 6, 2003: I am forty-five years old and I am going to die tonight. “O sweet Jesus, I could use your help.”
I try for a moment to swim front crawl. The cramp in my stomach is too great for me to put any effort into the swim. Moreover, I am still hyperventilating from the initial shock of the cold water and the stark reality of my grave situation. Rolling onto my back, I let the reality really sink in. Looking up through a cloudy, darkening sky, I began to pray: “Lord Jesus, I could really use your help right now . . . Lord, this would be a really good time to prove your existence to me . . . O blessed Jesus, sweet Jesus, divine intervention would really be appreciated . . . a boat . . . a log . . . anything.”
Silence. A disappointing silence.
Rolling onto my front, I think of hypothermia and how quickly it will affect me. I think of doing the dead man’s float and remaining still to preserve body heat. Remain still to preserve body heat? How long am I to do that? Here I am in the middle of nowhere, without hope, and I’m to do the dead man’s float? I’ll be doing the dead man’s float alright . . . when I’m dead.
Understanding my dilemma very clearly, I resolve out loud, “Lord, with all due respect, if you are going to take me home this evening, I am not going without a fight. I will swim until I can swim no more. I will continue this fight until I am unconscious and die or I am on land.”
With these prayers on my lips and thoughts in my heart, I set off doing a slow breaststroke toward what might as well be Honolulu.