ADVENTURE ON OCRACOKE ISLAND; CHAPTER 13: DAUGHTER OF THE SEA MEETS A BLAZING TANKER (THIRTEENTH IN 14 PARTS)

The little boat chugged out of the harbor and into the sound. The small wake gurgled behind. All around, the water was strangely still.

"Slick ca'm," said Grandpa under his breath. The lighthouse lit the way.

Delia wondered if she were dreaming again. But the terrible dream felt real this time. She took a deep breath of the briny air.

Although it was a warm night, Delia felt chilled. She shivered in her T-shirt and felt the hair on her arms prickle with fear. She dreaded the awful sight ahead.

She dreaded the danger, too, for, as Grandpa once said, lifesavers didn't always come back. Still, she had no desire to return to shore; her pounding heart told her they had to keep going. Perhaps someone's life depended on it.

Grandpa guided the boat out through the inlet to the open sea, his bad arm resting limply in his lap. Delia could hear the thick, thundering sounds of burning. There was a smaller explosion. Then another. The sky lit up with each one.

The ocean was wide and endless, and as Delia looked at the black water, the skiff seemed much too small. She glanced around the inside of the boat and saw that there were no life preservers. Delia could swim, and she knew her Grandpa could, too -- but swimming out in the ocean, at night, was a terrifying thought. Delia closed her eyes and whispered a little prayer. "Oh, please, let us make it back," she said.

As they moved farther out, the water began to roll gently, each swell lifting the boat and then dropping it.

Even from a distance, Delia could see the light from the burning craft. It looked like a great bonfire, the dense black smoke roaring up to the sky.

"Must be a tanker," Grandpa said quietly. "Look at the flames." His eyes were wide and very white in the dark. Delia saw a shiny film of sweat on his brow as he gaped at the horizon.

The sight of the ship made Delia sweat, too.

Fire shot out on the water around it, just as Grandpa had described it when he told Delia about the sinking of the "Mirlo." There was a sharp, acrid smell in the air.

Then, over the sound of the motor, Delia heard something that made her shudder.

It was someone screaming.

"Listen!" Delia said.

Grandpa tipped his head to listen. "I don't hear nothin,'" he said. He leaned forward and shook his head angrily, as if trying to shake his ears into hearing. "What is it?" "Somebody shouting!" Delia exclaimed. She pointed out at the water.

In the distance, away from the burning ship, she saw a man. He flailed his arms like a bird. Farther on the horizon, outside the wall of fire, two tiny lifeboats pulled away. Delia saw the shadows of many men in them. Did they not see their stranded comrade?

"There's a man!" Delia shouted.

"I can't see nothin' yet," Grandpa said. "You show me where." He steered the skiff while Delia showed the way.

Delia heard another, bigger boat approaching. She saw lights on the water far behind them. It must be the Coast Guard, she thought. But what if they didn't make it in time?

The man had to be saved.

Delia shouted, "Grandpa! Look! Can you see him?" She pointed through the darkness to the tiny figure in the water.

Grandpa squinted and held up a flashlight.

The man called "Help!" He seemed to drift farther away, as if the ship were pulling him back.

Delia could see the man, silhouetted by the flaming sky behind him, slip under a big swell and bob back up again. He sputtered and yelled, fighting to stay away from the approaching fire.

"Help!" he cried again. Then he gulped water.

Delia shouted: "We're coming!" The skiff rolled closer and closer to him.

Finally the man bobbed up nearby. He held his arms out, and even in the dark Delia could see that he was splattered with black oil. The fabric of his sleeves had been burned away.

Grandpa cut off the motor and leaned over the side. Delia did the same. When they took hold of the man's arms, he cried out in pain.

He was heavy in his soggy uniform and bulky life jacket, and Delia thought he might pull them into the water with him. But they managed to drag him aboard.

He collapsed in the bottom of the boat and rolled onto his back, moaning. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at Delia. "Who are you?" he asked. He had an American accent.

"I'm Delia Parrish," she said. "And this is my Grandpa." The man gasped. "You've saved my life, I reckon." He winced and closed his eyes again. He lay very still.

"Is he dead?" Delia whispered. She sat down shakily.

"Naw, just fainted," Grandpa said. "He's near about dead, though." Grandpa took a blanket and gently wiped the oil from the man's face. "Lord above!" he said. "It's Billy Haskell." He stared at him and said, "God only knows what he just went through." Delia gazed across the water, looking for anyone else. She saw nobody. The Coast Guard had reached the lifeboats.

She looked at her Grandpa, whose eyes were fixed on the man in their own boat.

"Grandpa, we'd better get him back," Delia said.

But he seemed not to hear her. He turned and stared at the water, his eyes wide and frightened. "The fire," he murmured. "We can't let it get 'em." He seemed to be talking to himself.

"Grandpa, we got him," Delia said. "It's all right. The others made it, too. The Coast Guard is there." "Can't leave 'em to the fire," Grandpa repeated. He stood up.

"Grandpa! Sit down!" Delia shouted. "We have to go back. This man is hurt." Grandpa cupped his hands to his mouth. "Hold on, fellas!" he shouted. "I'm comin'!" He gripped the side of the skiff as if he were going to jump in.

Delia stood and grabbed his arm. She tried to push him down onto the bench.

"Grandpa! It's me!" she shouted. "Nobody's in the fire!" Grandpa flung Delia's hand away.

Suddenly she lost her balance and fell backwards. She hit her head as she went over the side.

With one last gasp for air, she felt herself go under the water.

NEXT WEEK: Chapter 14: A Sailor Returns