Like slices of cake, fourteen men sat shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the life-raft built for twelve.

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It felt as if the boat were out to kill us. The underside of the stern tried to crush us, and the once-protective railings were now sharp edges to catch and tear the rubber tubes. We continued to be driven along the starboard side of the hull by the irresistible double act of the wind and the waves but now the ship began to roll further over towards us. The huge engine chimney casing bore down. Exhaust pipes belching hot fumes loomed just metres above our heads. With the engines still running, the pipes would be hot enough to melt our rubber raft. I watched in horror as we were raised by a swell, and the scorching pipes came closer and closer to our fragile sanctuary. Surely they would burn us? While some waves seemed to carry us towards imminent death, others seemed to save us. We were swept clear of the ship, only to be snapped back again by the painter or another swell. The collision of inflatable raft against hull threw Hannes back on to the boat. One minute he was with us, the next he was left clinging to the side of the rope crates, his arms wrapped around the rails. ‘What are you doing?’ I yelled. ‘Get back on the raft!’ While Hannes was clinging to the boat, the raft rebounded to the end of the rope tether. We were desperate to get away before the Sudur Havid sank but needed him back before we could escape. A well-timed wave brought us within jumping distance and Hannes leapt safely back in the raft. Morné had found a safety cutter, a small plastic item the size of a credit card, attached to the inside of the raft. He passed the serrated blade to Big Danie, who cut the painter. We pushed to get free, but the wind blew us against the hull. A quick search of the raft found nothing that resembled paddles, so we tried to propel the twenty-man raft against the wind with our hands. This had no effect, but after one more bounce against the boat we seemed to move away. Just when we thought we were clear, the boat shifted and the stern gantry came slamming down. This arch of heavy steel had once supported the trawl cables, but now the girders were slicing down on to the raft’s roof, folding the raft in two and forcing us underwater. The gantry caught my head: an irresistible force bearing down on me through the canvas canopy. The flat steel pressed against my skull so hard I wanted to cry out, but I was being smothered. Cold water rushed past my cheek. The raft flooded instantly as its rim was submerged....
Lewis, Matt.