22^nd May, 2011

The pilots saw that a boat had been lowered into the water. The plane turned and flew off. Half a minute later it reappeared, speeding just above the waves towards the boat. When it was about one hundred meters short the pilots switched on a powerful searchlight. Its long white ray traced an exact course for the boat-right up to Heidi’s life raft.

The plane shot upwards and vanished into the darkness. The next minute it reappeared, flying even lower, and again the white beam traced the same course. The third time the plane flew higher and the beam glided along the water at an obtuse angle.

The burning globes danced around the boat. Thus, the riddle was solved. Ahead a tiny electric light twinkled. Heidi’s life raft was fitted out with a light bulb and battery. The captain’s radio came to life.

“There are luminous buoys around us,” Logvinov reported. And a bit later, “A little girl.”

They opened the cowling and went in closer. Went right up to the raft. Now they could see that it contained not a child but a young woman. They calculated the amplitude of the waves, and then grabbed the raft. It broke away. Heidi could not bear to wait-she tumbled towards them. Arms gathered her up and pulled her into the boat. Water streamed from her. Her legs buckled- room was made for her on a seat. A slight attack of hysterics: she seemed to be laughing. Or perhaps she was crying. The difference between her situation now and the predicament she had just been in was not so very great. Two sailors fished her raft out of the water. The first mate spoke to the captain: “The woman’s in the boat. What next?”

“Where’s the little girl?” the captain asked.

Logvinov said, “It’s her.”

“Can she talk?” the captain asked.

“Yes,” the first mate replied. “She’s already talking.”

He switched off the radio. The whole story tumbled out. Logvinov repeated what Heidi had said to the captain.

“She’s alone,” the first mate said. “She insists she was alone. She was piloting the plane.”

“Look around,” Mochalov nevertheless urges. “May be she’s delirious.”

“Now,” the first mate said, with less assurance. “She seems all right. She wasn’t bobbing out her all that long: 15-18 hours.”

“Come on back,” the captain said.

It look half an hour to get back to the ship – the wind drove heavy, thundering billows along. The sailors looked at Heidi – she was shivering. Heidi looked at them. She was beside herself, no doubt about it.

The ship. The deck. Fate’s nasty joke was undone.

From – No Man Is An Island

Written by Gennady Bocharov