Praying for Rain

It was the middle of the night, and 18-year-old Douglas Robertson was on watch, dreaming of food. "Fresh fruit salad," he whispered to himself, the vision so powerful he had to wake his father. "Dad, dad, dad, wake up." Normally that would earn a clip around the ear, but Dougle—exhausted, thirsty, and relieved it wasn't an emergency—just asked his son to describe it. Douglas painted the picture: a hollowed-out melon, a knob of ice cream, blackberries, raspberries, sliced peaches, fresh cream on top. He closed his eyes, breathed out a long sigh. "Thanks, Douglas," his father said.

This was day fifteen of their ordeal. The Robertson family—parents Dougle and Lynn, 18-year-old Douglas, 11-year-old twins Neil and Sandy, and 22-year-old Robin, the only non-family member who joined them in Panama—had been adrift in the Pacific since their yacht, the Lucette, sank. Now they were stuck in the doldrums, a windless stretch of ocean, with no rain and only the last drops of water remaining. Six people on a small, leaking life raft, with an even smaller three-man fiberglass dinghy tied alongside.

Waiting to Live, Waiting to Die