Nonfiction | March 01, 1991
Escape in the Ocean: Slava Kurilov
Michael Glenny ,Norman Stone
This essay is not currently available online.
It happened one unforgettable night several years ago in the Pacific Ocean near the Philippines. The deck was no longer under my feet. For several moments I flew through the air, until I felt the waves parting, gently welcoming me into their embrace. Coming up to the surface I looked around–and froze in terror. Beside me, an arm’s length away, was the huge hull of the liner and its gigantic turning propellor. I desperately summoned up my strength to swim out of reach, but I was held in the dense mass of stationary water that was coupled to the screw in a mortal grip. It felt as if the liner had suddenly stopped, yet only a few seconds ago it had been doing eighteen knots. The terrifying vibrations of the hellish noise went through my body; the screw seemed to be alive: it had a maliciously smiling face and held me tight with invisible arms.
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