I’M HERE. SAVE ME.
Whitecaps slapped at Ryan Shuck’s face, and water sloshed through the leaky seal of his suit. He turned his back to the waves and drifted, riding the ocean. From the top of a swell, he saw a cluster of strobes. He started swimming, but when he crested another wave there was nothing in front of him but dark water.
He gave up swimming, rested, floated, let the sea carry him. He wanted to pray, but got belligerent instead. “All right, God,” he said. “You’ve got one hour to come and get me, then I’m just unzipping this suit and getting it over with.”
Then he saw the lights of the Jayhawk. It was coming his way. It stopped near him, a couple dozen yards downwind, and Ryan watched a man winch down on a cable, hit the water, swim toward him.
“Can you put your arms down at your sides?” O’Brien Starr-Hollow asked.
Less than a minute later, Ryan was strapped to Starr-Hollow. The winch cable tightened, lifted both men out of