SHOULD I HAVE SAILED ON?

It was round about then that the main business of this voyage started to unfold, and it began as no more than a tiny dot at the indistinct junction between the ocean and the sky. I had not seen anything quite like it at sea: there was something odd about its shape and scale. After weeks of observing nothing but the subdued and soft-edged shades of the natural world, I was jolted by the brightness of this whatever-it-was, by its garish intrusion into the all-pervading grey. I pulled out my binoculars and studied it more closely. It was orange-yellow in colour and without doubt a man-made artefact. Was it some sort of strange ship? Or was it something smaller? A scientific measurement buoy, perhaps? For a while I could not decide whether it was something very big a long way away, or something small much closer. We were moving slowly towards it, and I could now see that it was roughly triangular in shape. It did not seem to be moving in any direction. I unhooked the self-steering gear and took control of the tiller myself, to make sure we passed close by.

- Roger Taylor and his small yacht M. had just crossed 78°N and were continuing northwards with a gentle breeze.

We are inquisitive creatures, we humans. We have to know everything about everything, and it was inquisitiveness that drew me towards this strange object on the sea. I wonder now whether it would have been better had I changed course and scuttled off elsewhere, ignoring this oddity, minding my own business, going my own sweet way. I had no choice, of course. It drew me towards itself, like iron filings to a magnet, and in any case, I had a duty to investigate. My attraction to this object and all of the tumult that followed were as inescapable as the death now hovering near. It soon became clear that what I was approaching was small and close rather than large and distant, and that it was a liferaft of some sort. Yes, a liferaft, here in the far corner of the Greenland Sea. We moved closer and my mind seethed with questions and possibilities. Where the hell had it come from? Were there people in it? If so, how many? How would I cope with them in my tiny yacht? I admit, there was something thrilling about the prospect of being a rescuer. After all, what were the chances of a liferaft being found in such a remote spot? If there are people aboard, they must feel hopeless. Have they been able to set up a rescue signal of some sort? Is there a search on for them or whatever vessel they were on?