I did the same, along with Yuichi and Oskar but, it must be said, with considerably less grace than Rozalia. Soon, however, all four oars were fitted to their rowlocks, and we sat facing back towards the harbour, the dinghy falling and rising beneath us with the tide. I could see no sign of movement beyond the harbour wall. The farther we got, the less likely we were to be seen.

‘All ready?’ asked Rozalia, looking around and clearly struggling to hide the fact she was having the time of her life. ‘Then let’s go.’

I had multiple opportunities over the next half-hour to regret my initial enthusiasm. My back ached, my butt was in agony from sitting on that hard wooden bench, and I had incipient blisters on the palms of my hands. But at least I kept my discomfort to myself, unlike Oskar, who cursed and muttered the whole damn way, until I had serious thoughts of tossing him overboard.

After a while, though, I got into the rhythm of the rowing and the steady beat of the oarblades as they rose and dipped, rose and dipped. Every now and then a particularly large wave lifted us up high, before sending us crashing back down with enough force to give me butterflies in my stomach.

Rozalia, by contrast, was in her element. She was sweating, but looked happy for the first time since Nadia’s demise.

‘Okay,’ Rozalia finally gasped, pulling her oar back in after what felt like a century of rowing. ‘Stop.’

Oskar let out a long groan, dragging his oar across his lap before reaching up to wipe the sweat from his neck and face.

‘How far out are we?’ I asked, staring back towards the harbour. It didn’t look like we’d covered that much distance.

‘Farther than you think,’ she replied. ‘Wind’s blowing out to sea. The noise from the outboard won’t carry back to shore so much.’

She made her way to the rearmost bench to fiddle with the outboard engine until it let out a muted roar, its blades cutting into the ocean waters. We began to pick up speed, cutting with ease through the water. Rozalia peered ahead, one hand on the tiller, slowly swinging the dinghy around until we were sailing parallel to the coast. First we would sail around the northern tip of the island, and then make our way along the east coast.

The sun tracked its way across the sky towards late afternoon. I started to feel tired, the constant rocking motion lulling me. It had been a long, hard couple of days, with barely a moment to rest. Rozalia’s hand remained steady on the tiller, her eyes fixed either directly ahead or on the coast.

The harbour passed out of sight once we had rounded the sea cliffs that formed one slope of Rano Kau. I felt myself relax a little; we were out of sight of any unwanted observers.