The waves were almost licking the bottom of our helicopter. I was hanging tight making sure I wont fall out into the raging sea below.
The pilot was wrestling with the wind teasing him, bobbing him randomly trying to make him loose control.
I looked down at the waves crashing down my boat. It kept being covered by waves but stood fast, even without my command, just kept reappearing from the attacks of old man sea.
My men sat fast with me, all wet, all still shaking from cold and sweat of effort to stay alive.
They tried to talk with each other but the roar of engines and crashing of waves made it futile. They could only look and think of a better place to be.
The only thing that kept us going is the light, sure as ever, flashing from the lighthouse. Showing us the way, saying we were close.
I looked back at my boat, my command, all going down. Swallowed by that which I could not conquer and let control my to distress.
So here I sit, holding for my life, only a helicopter separating me from that which lay waste to me.