A silent, determined consensus prevailed among the crew as they set about launching their search. They were just merchant seamen, men from Eastern Europe and the Philippines who had come together to man the vessel. While they weren’t professional rescuers, they couldn’t abandon the scene without at least trying.
The wind was picking up, the water was choppy, and visibility was poor. Three crew members boarded a closed lifeboat, and other crew cranked the pulleys to slowly release it down into the sea. This high-tech model was designed to move through rough weather on high seas and remain watertight. They passed dozens of bobbing corpses as they set off. “Don’t pick up the dead,” the captain told them over the radio, “just look for survivors.”
The crewmen circled the area, but found only more corpses. It seemed that their search was in vain, but suddenly the captain’s voice crackled over the radio. Back on the ship, a watchman on the bow had heard what he thought was a woman’s voice calling for help. Somewhere out there, someone was still alive. The men in the lifeboat headed toward the bow, hoping to locate the source of the pleas for help.
The wind grew stronger as they continued searching, making it difficult for them to pick up anything other than roaring noise. Periodically, they would stop the boat’s motor so they could hear better. Every now and again they could just make out the faint echoes of a woman’s voice, but it seemed to come from a different direction every time. “Keep yelling,” they shouted over and over, knowing that if she didn’t, they’d never be able to find her.
After four days and nights in the water with nothing to eat or drink, Doaa’s strength was failing. Her arms ached and she was so dizzy that she was afraid she would pass out. She could no longer feel her lower legs, and her throat was raw from calling out over and over. She wanted to give up, but the weight of Masa and Malak resting on her chest filled her with the determination to live. She kept paddling to stay afloat, and with each push of her hand through the water, she would call out, “Ya Rabb!”—oh, God! But her voice seemed to disappear into the wind.
She had spotted the CPO Japan when it first approached, and it had seemed so close, but now she couldn’t see it at all. Where could it have gone? she wondered as doubt began to creep up on her and she became more and more certain that she and the girls would die before anyone found them.
Then, as if Allah had at last answered her prayers, Doaa heard voices calling. She could just make out a few English words: “Where are you? Keep talking so we can follow your voice and find you!” Suddenly a wave rocked her, and the voices grew muffled, as if they were drifting farther away. Then they stopped altogether.
Doaa frantically searched her mind trying to remember the English word for help. When it didn’t come to her, she instead used any words she knew and all her remaining strength to project them forth. Can’t they see me? she wondered as she bobbed in the water, worried that perhaps she wasn’t making any sound at all, or that she was hallucinating. But she could see that a searchlight was scanning back and forth over the waves, and each time she cried out, the light would sweep closer to her. She willed the bright beam to illuminate her float as she paddled frantically toward it. Her determination to save Malak and Masa gave her strength that she didn’t know she still had.
The girls were barely moving now, beginning to lose consciousness. Doaa splashed water on their faces to keep them awake and, as quickly as she could, steered her way around the corpses and toward the sound of her only hope. She couldn’t let Masa and Malak die now that rescue was so close.
Doaa’s mouth was so dry that the sound coming out seemed to make a crackling noise through her lips. She wasn’t sure how long she could continue shouting or keeping herself and the girls afloat. But her fear that if she stopped yelling the searchers would give up and the girls would die kept her going. Masa and Malak were both limp now, lying listless on her chest. Doaa felt as if their blood circulated through her own veins and that all their hearts were beating in unison. Their lives depended on her getting to that rescue boat. Once Masa and Malak are safe, she thought, I can go back to the spot where Bassem drowned and be with him again. The thought that she only had to last a little while longer and then she could rest and be with Bassem comforted her.