i was cold. it was a distracted observation, as if it didn'tconcern me. daybreak came. it happened quickly, yet byimperceptible degrees. a corner of the sky changed colours.
the air began filling with light. the calm sea opened uparound me like a great book. still it felt like night. suddenly itwas day.
warmth came only when the sun, looking like an electricallylit orange, broke across the horizon, but i didn't need to waitthat long to feel it. with the very first rays of light it camealive in me: hope. as things emerged in outline and filled withcolour, hope increased until it was like a song in my heart. oh,what it was to bask in it! things would work out yet. theworst was over. i had survived the night. today i would berescued. to think that, to string those words together in mymind, was itself a source of hope. hope fed on hope. as thehorizon became a neat, sharp line, i scanned it eagerly. theday was clear again and visibility was perfect. i imagined raviwould greet me first and with a tease. "what's this?" he wouldsay. "you find yourself a great big lifeboat and you fill it withanimals? you think you're noah or something?" father wouldbe unshaven and dishevelled. mother would look to the skyand take me in her arms. i went through a dozen versions ofwhat it was going to be like on the rescue ship, variations onthe theme of sweet reunion. that morning the horizon mightcurve one way, my lips resolutely curved the other, in a smile.
strange as it might sound, it was only after a long time thati looked to see what was happening in the lifeboat. the hyenahad attacked the zebra. its mouth was bright red and it waschewing on a piece of hide. my eyes automatically searched forthe wound, for the area under attack. i gasped with horror.
the zebra's broken leg was missing. the hyena had bitten itoff and dragged it to the stern, behind the zebra. a flap ofskin hung limply over the raw stump. blood was still dripping.
the victim bore its suffering patiently, without showyremonstrations. a slow and constant grinding of its teeth wasthe only visible sign of distress. shock, revulsion and angersurged through me. i felt intense hatred for the hyena. ithought of doing something to, kill it. but i did nothing. andmy outrage was short-lived. i must be honest about that. ididn't have pity to spare for long for the zebra. when yourown life is threatened, your sense of empathy is blunted by aterrible, selfish hunger for survival. it was sad that it wassuffering so much – and being such a big, strapping creatureit wasn't at the end of its ordeal – but there was nothing icould do about it. i felt pity and then i moved on. this is notsomething i am proud of. i am sorry i was so callous aboutthe matter. i have not forgotten that poor zebra and what itwent through. not a prayer goes by that i don't think of it.
there was still no sign of orange juice. i turned my eyes tothe horizon again.
that afternoon the wind picked up a little and i noticedsomething about the lifeboat: despite its weight, it floated lightlyon the water, no doubt because it was carrying less than itscapacity. we had plenty of freeboard, the distance between thewater and the gunnel; it would take a mean sea to swamp us.
but it also meant that whatever end of the boat was facing thewind tended to fall away, bringing us broadside to the waves.
with small waves the result was a ceaseless, fist-like beatingagainst the hull, while larger waves made for a tiresome rollingof the boat as it leaned from side to side. this jerky andincessant motion was making me feel queasy.
perhaps i would feel better in a new position. i slid downthe oar and shifted back onto the bow. i sat facing the waves,with the rest of the boat to my left. i was closer to the hyena,but it wasn't stirring.
it was as i was breathing deeply and concentrating onmaking my nausea go away that i saw orange juice. i hadimagined her completely out of sight, near the bow beneath thetarpaulin, as far from the hyena as she could get. not so. shewas on the side bench, just beyond the edge of the hyena'sindoor track and barely hidden from me by the bulge ofrolled-up tarpaulin. she lifted her head only an inch or so andright away i saw her.
curiosity got the best of me. i had to see her better. despitethe rolling of the boat i brought myself to a kneeling position.
the hyena looked at me, but did not move. orange juicecame into sight. she was deeply slouched and holding on tothe gunnel with both her hands, her head sunk very lowbetween her arms. her mouth was open and her tongue waslolling about. she was visibly panting. despite the tragedyafflicting me, despite not feeling well, i let out a laugh.
everything about orange juice at that moment spelled oneword: seasickness. the image of a new species popped intomy head: the rare seafaring green orang-utan. i returned tomy sitting position. the poor dear looked so humanly sick! itis a particularly funny thing to read human traits in animals,especially in apes and monkeys, where it is so easy. simiansare the clearest mirrors we have in the animal world. that iswhy they are so popular in zoos. i laughed again. i broughtmy hands to my chest, surprised at how i felt. oh my. thislaughter was like a volcano of happiness erupting in me. andorange juice had not only cheered me up; she had also takenon both our feelings of seasickness. i was feeling fine now.
i returned to scrutinizing the horizon, my hopes high.
besides being deathly seasick, there was something else aboutorange juice that was remarkable: she was uninjured. and shehad her back turned to the hyena, as if she felt she couldsafely ignore it. the ecosystem on this lifeboat was decidedlybaffling. since there are no natural conditions in which aspotted hyena and an orang-utan can meet, there being noneof the first in borneo and none of the second in africa, thereis no way of knowing how they would relate. but it seemed tome highly improbable, if not totally incredible, that whenbrought together these frugiv-orous tree-dwellers andcarnivorous savannah-dwellers would so radically carve out theirniches as to pay no attention to each other. surely anorangutan would smell of prey to a hyena, albeit a strange one,one to be remembered afterwards for producing stupendoushairballs, nonetheless better-tasting than an exhaust pipe andwell worth looking out for when near trees. and surely ahyena would smell of a predator to an orang-utan, a reasonfor being vigilant when a piece of durian has been dropped tothe ground accidentally. but nature forever holds surprises.
perhaps it was not so. if goats could be brought to liveamicably with rhinoceros, why not orang-utans with hyenas?
that would be a big winner at a zoo. a sign would have to beput up. i could see it already: "dear public, do not be afraidfor the orang-utans! they are in the trees because that iswhere they live, not because they are afraid of the spottedhyenas. come back at mealtime, or at sunset when they getthirsty, and you will see them climbing down from their treesand moving about the grounds, absolutely unmolested by thehyenas." father would be fascinated.
sometime that afternoon i saw the first specimen of whatwould become a dear, reliable friend of mine. there was abumping and scraping sound against the hull of the lifeboat. afew seconds later, so close to the boat i could have leaneddown and grabbed it, a large sea turtle appeared, a hawksbill,flippers lazily turning, head sticking out of the water. it wasstriking-looking in an ugly sort of way, with a rugged, yellowishbrown shell about three feet long and spotted with patches ofalgae, and a dark green face with a sharp beak, no lips, twosolid holes for nostrils, and black eyes that stared at meintently. the expression was haughty and severe, like that of anill-tempered old man who has complaining on his mind. thequeerest thing about the reptile was simply that it was. itlooked incongruous, floating there in the water, so odd in itsshape compared to the sleek, slippery design of fish. yet it wasplainly in its element and it was i who was the odd one out.
it hovered by the boat for several minutes.
i said to it, "go tell a ship i'm here. go, go." it turned andsank out of sight, back flippers pushing water in alternatestrokes.
