THE EYES I WAS now looking into were the same eyes I had looked through only moments ago: the dark eyes of an island woman. They now returned my gaze with an expression of bewilderment. I’d just seen a very similar expression on Koahu’s face, and I would come to see it over and again: the stupor of a soul that has just been ripped unknowingly and without warning from its moorings—a blind crossing. The unknowing soul awakens in the new body in a state of shock, unaware of what has just occurred.

I withdrew from my embrace with Alula with a pang of sadness that I was leaving my body behind. I rose to my feet and ran to the water. In the moonlight, the beach was deserted, the longboat nowhere to be seen. From the ship I heard a whistle I recognized as the bosun’s and the muffled sound of men’s voices barking orders. I threw myself into the water and began to swim, but while, in my previous body, swimming was something I had always done without a second thought, I now discovered that this new body could barely float, let alone move forward in the water. I had, there and then, to teach myself how, using all the memories of a previous life. They were barely sufficient to the task. It was slow and difficult going, all thrashing and gasping for air. Water seeped up my nostrils and left them stinging. Still, I did not sink, and before long I was past the surf and making progress.

The closer I swam to the ship, the more I feared I would be left behind. In the confusion and flailing movement, I heard the thud of canvas unfurling and the crackle of sails filling with air. This, despite my exhaustion, excited my endeavor. I was closer to the ship now than to the shore, and all but spent. Should I not make it aboard, it would be the end, for I hadn’t enough life in me to make it back to shore. I cried out with all my might, which only slowed me down the more. The ship had just begun to move forward when I heard the lookout’s cry and those two blessed words, Man overboard! Moments later, the slap of a rope hit the water. I was exhausted. I clung to it desperately while a trio of sailors hauled me up and over the bulwark. I lay on my back on the deck amidships, gasping for breath. Orders were still being barked and men dashed to and fro as the sails were set to the desired trim. I was paid no mind, other than by my friend Brice who, in passing, said, “I thought you couldn’t swim, you devil!” and the bosun Icard, who muttered, “I hope she was worth it, boy, because you will pay for her with your blood, make no mistake.”