The sun was starting to set over the horizon, and the sea had become still and flat, putting the scene before her in eerie focus. Survivors were gathered in small clusters, some wearing life jackets that were only keeping their heads just above water. Many of them had also been sold fake vests that could barely float. She wondered if the smugglers who gave them those life vests had intended to let them drown all along.
Bassem treaded water beside Doaa, holding on to her plastic ring. He spotted a man he recognized with a small bottle of water and begged him to give Doaa a sip. She swallowed a tiny amount, then immediately threw up all the seawater she had ingested. Getting all the salt water out of her system helped her feel more alert. She suddenly noticed all the people wailing all around them. Nearby, they heard the anguished cries of Shoukri Al-Assoulli, the Palestinian man they had met on the boat. He was floating on a plastic bag full of empty water bottles and calling out over and over the names of his wife and children: “Hiyam! Ritaj! Yaman!” With one free hand, he pushed water to the side to move up to other survivors asking, “Did you see them? My wife, my kids?” He stopped when he found another friend of his sobbing. He had also lost his wife and children. “How will I tell my mother they are gone?” he asked Shoukri.
One woman pulled out a waterproof mobile phone and tried to call any emergency number that she and others around her could think of. But there was no network. Another woman pulled her phone out of the layers of plastic bags she’d wrapped it in, finding it still dry and hoping she would have better luck. But her battery was dead.
Darkness slowly descended on the survivors floating in the water, and the sea turned black and choppy. Doaa shivered as her cold, wet clothes clung to her. The waves separated the clusters of survivors who had been holding hands, thinking that they would have a better chance of being spotted and rescued if they stuck together. Bassem clung to Doaa’s water ring, and Doaa gripped his arm, terrified that he, too, would float away. Hours passed and the loud sobs of the children became weak whimpers. Doaa felt for the Quran that Walid had given her, comforted that it was still secured just above her heart. She began to recite verses out loud, and soon others around her chimed in. She felt comforted for a brief moment in this circle, and closer to God. The moon and the stars were their only light, illuminating the living and the dead. Bodies floated all around them. “Forgive me, Doaa, you shouldn’t be seeing such things,” Bassem apologized. But she just shook her head and held more firmly to his arm.
Approximately one hundred people had initially survived the shipwreck, but as the night wore on, more people would die from cold, exhaustion, and despair. Some who had lost their families gave up, taking off their life jackets and allowing themselves to sink into the sea. At one point Doaa heard desperate shouts as fellow passengers attempted to give hope to one young man who had removed his life jacket. “Don’t do it,” the other survivors pleaded. “Please don’t give up.” But the young man pushed the life jacket away and sank head down into the sea. He was so close to Doaa she could almost touch him.
Amid the despair, a solidarity emerged among those who were left. People with life jackets moved toward those without them, offering a shoulder to hold on to for a rest. Those with a little food or water shared it. Those whose spirits remained strong comforted and encouraged people who wanted to give up.
Bassem took off his jeans so they wouldn’t weigh him down, but he was losing strength. They had been in the sea for twelve hours. “I’m sorry, Doaa. I’m so sorry,” he kept apologizing. He was devastated that he had insisted they travel by sea when it terrified her so much. “It’s my fault this happened. I shouldn’t have made you get on the boat.”
“We made this choice together,” she told him firmly. His teeth were chattering and his lips had turned blue. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she saw how weak he was, but she kept her voice steady. “We’re going to make it Bassem,” she said, echoing the words he had used to comfort her in the boat. “We’ll be rescued and we’re going to have a family together.”
“I swear to God, Doaa, I love you more than anyone in the world,” Bassem said, clutching her hand. He crossed his arms over the edge of the float, rested his head upon them, and drifted in and out of sleep. Doaa held on to his hand as if it were the only thing keeping her from joining those the sea had taken.