I was rescued by fishermen off the coast of Rotherhaven.
That morning, the sea was buried beneath thick fog as several small fishing boats hauled in their nets outside the harbor.
An old fisherman with a bright red nose spotted me first and shouted toward the back of the boat.
It took several men working together to pull me onto the deck. They kept saying how terrifyingly light and cold I was.
My soaked hair clung to my face. My lips had turned purple, and bruises covered my shoulders and knees.
The fishermen could not understand the broken Sinaran I muttered through my fever. All they could do was wrap jackets around me while speaking rapidly in Neerlandish.
The cabin was cramped, filled with the smell of diesel fuel and seawater as the engine roared beneath us.
I woke briefly thro
