I can’t see us being saved.”

“Don’t be such a fool!” shouted Edevart. “Can’t you see I’m making for emergency shelter!”

August did as ordered and bailed out the boat as best he could, but his thoughts were far away. He had doubtless heard tell of a life after death and he wanted to use his last moments to confess his sins and pray to God. “That’s all I can think of at the moment!” was how he concluded his confessions.

They kept going like this for an hour. It was approaching midnight. The sea rose; the sun was nowhere to be seen. The hail showers were over, but the sky was still blue-black. There was more to come. In this half light, navigation was tricky. Neither of the two men was familiar with these waters. Edevart steered as best he could, edging toward the land on his right. They still had a glimpse of Hindø. It was a matter of finding an inlet, a refuge. The land far away to the left, the Lofoten mountains, would have been more in the lee, but the wind was wrong.

“We aren’t all that far from land now,” said August. Perhaps he had taken hope; he had confessed his sins and was feeling a bit lighter in his mind.

Suddenly it thundered. Edevart cast a quick glance backward. Hail again rattled down on the bales of skins. A sudden squall whined around the mast. Edevart failed to ease the sail in time and the boat keeled far over. Shortly after, the hail came pelting down.

August had lost his courage again and cried with upturned face: “Save us, oh, Lord! If there’s any chance after this, I’ve still got thousands of sins to …”

“Bail out the boat!” ordered Edevart.

August didn’t hear. “There was that time we had shore leave,” he shouted, humbled, “the time we were in Negro country and we met her and four of us went after her.”

“Bail out the boat!” shrieked Edevart.

August fumbled with the bailing scoop but did not succeed in using it. He was absorbed in his ugly memories and shook his head like one annihilated. “We’re sinking,” he said.

They were close to land. Edevart saw, to his terror, that he had not reckoned with the strong current. “Let out another reef!” he shouted in mortal fear. He wanted to give the boat a bit more sail so that he could steer it away from the breakers.

August must have grasped what was at stake. He did as ordered and the boat answered the helm. A quarter of an hour went by; the boat was half full of water and August gradually began of his own accord to bail. If Edevart had been able to leave the tiller, he would certainly have thrown some of the bales of skins overboard; but it would have taken time to cut the lashings, and he dared not mention it to August, who had lost all initiative. Instead, to encourage his companion, he said: “That’s right, just keep bailing!”

A short while later, a rift appeared in the island, and that was a change.