The pilot waited his moment. So did Sailhardy. The whaleboat rose. The line snaked again. It hit one of the thwarts with a thump. I grabbed, missed, and something rushed past me. A flutter was all I was aware of. Sailhardy burst out laughing. Up our lifeline was clambering, foot over foot, the Island Cock. With remarkable speed he reached the helicopter window and dived in.

The Westland was snatched away by a gust of wind. It missed us by about fifty yards on the next run.

Sailhardy watched the south-west with growing concern " It hopeless," he shouted as the machine roared overhead again.

He w a s w r o n g. T h e p i l o t w a s rea l l y g o o d. T h e l i n e clatter aboard. I snatched it, but Sailhardy knocked my hand away. The boat yawed wildly.

" What the hell…" I began.

" It 'l l tear you i n hal f, i f you even manage to get i t around you," he replied. " The jerk as it lifts will be too much. Before they get you aboard, you'll be dead."

" It's our only chance," I retorted heatedly. " We can't make the beach."

The machine came right down low this time, without making any attempt to drop a line. A man with a megaphone shouted at us: " Don't you want to be rescued?"

I left it to Sailhardy. His gale-cheating modulation would be audible. " Too risky," he yelled. " Cut a man in half." The helicopter rose steeply, as if in disgust. At the top of a wave Sailhardy took a sweeping glance at the southwest. He pointed the boat's nose at Nightingale.

" It's coming up quickly," he said. " The beach is our only chance. Get that sail up-quick!"

As the whaleboat gathered way, the helicopter dropped right down over us. The window opened again. " Get that mast down!" shouted the voice. It sounded slightly foreign. " Co-operate! We're taking the whole boat for a buggy-ride." I knocked out the wooden wedge holding the mast and thrust it under the thwart.