Marissa wished he hadn’t used that expression. She closed her eyes. With all that had happened, she didn’t expect to sleep. But despite her physical discomfort and her emotional pain, exhaustion prevailed. Almost instantly she dozed off.

But once asleep, she started to dream. In her dream Robert was sinking into quicksand and she couldn’t reach him. She was holding on to a branch, reaching for his hand. Then the branch broke and she fell . . .

An hour after falling asleep, Marissa sat bolt upright, half expecting to be in quicksand. But she was on a hard bamboo mat with Tristan sleeping next to her. Around her head was a swarm of mosquitoes and on her forehead were beads of cold perspiration.

Marissa became aware of sandaled feet moving about the deck and she opened her eyes. It was before dawn, yet the misty world had become brighter. They were enveloped in a dense morning fog that completely shrouded the nearby island. The sound of birds could be heard but nothing of the shoreline could be seen.

Sitting up, Marissa noticed that the crew was already preparing to pull up anchor. The sail was unfurled and ready to be hoisted. Below she heard a baby cry for a moment.

Getting up, Marissa stretched her cramped muscles. She was surprised that she’d slept at all, especially after waking up from the nightmare she’d had about Robert.

Once she was limber, she walked over to the railing. After making sure all those on deck were preoccupied, she swallowed what pride she had left and relieved herself over the side of the boat. When she was finished, she was comforted that no one had taken the slightest notice.

Tristan was still fast asleep. Rather than wake him, Marissa climbed down the ladder and went below. Water was boiling on the pressure stove. With the help of the wife of the captain, Marissa made herself some tea and carried it up to the poop deck. By then Tristan had awakened.

“G’day, luv,” he said with his usual good humor.

Marissa shared her tea with him as the huge sail went up. Then they felt the engines start.

“Our man must be eager to get back,” Tristan said. “He’s going to sail and motor at the same time.”

As it turned out, the captain merely used the engines to move the junk from the lagoon. Once they were clear of the land, the engines were switched off and the sheets connected to the boom were pulled in taut and cleated.

Sailing along on the light morning breeze, they began to move south, approaching a point of the mainland. As the mist rose they saw fishing boats putting out from shore. It was quite peaceful until from somewhere in the distance they began to hear the distant roar of a motorized boat.

The captain responded to the sound by barking out orders to the crew. The sail came down with a whoosh and the diesels were started. Slowly the junk came around.