An ancient press cutting arrived in my inbox from that brilliant artist Bob Abrahams and his talented photographer daughter, Miriam. The first thing I saw was my name and photo. A sort of dread gagged my spirit.
After the jury's decision I had read how an armed group of agents boarded my yacht, found a huge quantity of drugs, and dragged me off. Utter nonsense, of course. No armed boarding, no boarding at all, and certainly no illegal cargo.
The sea and survivalI didn't come within a thousand miles of UK. The only drama on board involved a torn mainsail, certainly serious enough, but something concerning only the law of the sea and survival.
However, the news item from the Abrahams told of my rescue from a liferaft in the South Atlantic. It is dated an almost unbelievable 24 years ago. It was gentle, even flattering.
Journalist Ted Oliver referred to me as 'one of the world's most experienced single-handed yachtsmen'. As the popular expression goes, what's not to like about that?
I hadn't seen that news item before - so belated thanks to Ted Oliver. A slight error: I was born in Salisbury. I'm a Moonraker not a Kiwi, but Ted wasn't to know that.
A truly brilliant rescue
It was around midnight that I saw a light in the distance. Second officer Stepnik Slawomir heard my distress call immediately. Captain Raja Maitra very skillfully navigated that huge container ship right up to the raft in the big sea running. It was a truly brilliant rescue. Thank you, Stepnik and Raja, and all of the compliment of Nordlight.
Talk about topical. This drama is the very subject of the story I am currently writing, working title, Adrift. Many thanks to Bob and Miriam for finding and sending on this ancient report.
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