Fiction: Group 3
Cast Away, Cast About
St. Joseph's College, Tang, Arthur - 15, Fiction: Group 3
s I embarked on my trip upon the “China Odyssey”, little did I know how disastrous it would turn
out to be. A country as big as China, a region as prosperous as the Pearl River Delta, what could go
wrong?
It was a fine July’s morning, as I stepped onto the firm planks boarding the “China Odyssey”, everything
was perfect. My deluxe suite was clinically sterilized and fully furnished, absolutely sublime.
After celebrating “Happy Independence Day” with relatives, I set off to Dongguan with my secretary and
friend Felicity Fox to inspect my company’s factories there, upon finishing the task at hand the “China
Odyssey” was to cruise us around the delta.
The rather ostentatious cruise was home to me, Ms. Fox and another 300 one percenters of China for five
days. None of the passengers aboard would be content with a room smaller than a thousand feet, none of
which couldn’t afford it. The grand cruise ship’s maiden voyage seemed even more ceremonial than a rocket
launch. As the engines thundered, the Odyssey parted the harbor drowning in an air of claps and laughter.
Having settled in, the captain bragged all about the ship, how it was designed to be a marine fortress and
such. Till then, I’d have to say his claims were well-founded. Sometimes I’d even forget I was on a boat, it
was steadier than a tank. Everything was impeccable on this floating mansion.
On the third day, rain started to pour from the clouds. The lofty shadows obscured the sunlit horizon, even
till nightfall when the ethereal stars illuminated the distant skies, the clouds bested their effort as they
shrouded the vast ocean. The colours of all were reduced to pitch darkness, silhouettes no longer
differentiable. The Odyssey’s penetrating lights shone across the Pearl River estuary, the surface was as
unsettled as a mourning widower. Yet I was too ecstatic to let the downpour rain on my parade, my
associate Ms. Fox has agreed to dinner. It’s not a date, but dining with a ravishing young lady is the type of
thing that sets sail a fine evening.
Just as we were finishing the Parma ham and melon, the cruise shook violently. Something was wrong. The
ship shifted to the left vigorously, the fancy chandeliers dangling towards port side. Something was definitely
wrong. Thick black smoke started rising from all sides, surrounding it like a bird the ship a cage. Something
was terribly wrong.
Faintly visible from a distance, we should’ve been around Hong Kong’s largest island at the time. The
Odyssey, the ocean fortress, was twisting like a small wooden boat in the middle of the sea. All of our
instincts was to run to the life boats, but before we managed to make it out of the restaurant, the monstrous
grasp of the ocean torn a hole out of the boat. “Help…” Felicity let out a desperate cry as I caught on to her
hand with all my might. Yet my feeble resistance was nothing compared to the strong force of the currents,
and was drawn into the depths of the swirl.
******************************************************************************
I woke to a gloomy morning. I was soaked, lying on wooden planks, staring into a grey, dull sky. I looked
around me, a small crowd of Asian-looking fishermen in ragged clothes and bamboo hats gathered and was
muttering their dialect. I slowly regained my orientation, I stood up and searched for Felicity in my
waterlogged surroundings. No sign of her at all amidst rustic houses hovering above water and the Asians
surrounding me. “Where am I? Where is Felicity?” I snapped at the people in front of me. I didn’t mean to
be rude, but as you can imagine I was rather flustered. The fishermen stared at me stupefied as a young lad
toddled out from the unvocal company, “Sir, this is Tai O, you are in Hong Kong. You alone drifted ashore
an hour ago. Where did you come from?”
“My name’s Olivier Johnson. I was a passenger on board the China Odyssey, the last thing I remember was
being sucked out of the cruise with my companion, Felicity Fox…” I started to introduce myself as the boy
translated. His parents handed him a newspaper article after I finished, the boy read it and was stunned. He
handed me the Chinese article, I didn’t understand a single word, but the graphic photograph of a boat
wreckage smack in the middle of the article gave me the picture. “That’s your boat, the China Odyssey. It
says the boat sank because it was Jerry-built and that the authorities haven’t found any survivors yet…” My
heart sank lower than the floor. Can it be? Is she really dead? I broke.
A
