We strain eyes for some sign of the lonely island which is our temporary home and refuge. The petrol gauges indicate enough fuel for a few minutes only. We have been on radio compass for the past hour. The navigator is adamant but has a worried look. The bearing remains steady.
More minutes pass.
The tanks must surely soon be dry. Thoughts race through my mind. I feel empty, too, and slightly sick. And quite clearly so do the others. Then, far away in the dark distance, a tiny light, then the steady finger of a searchlight reveals itself like a beam from heaven.