Journey to freedom
...carry 23 people into the massive Sea of Siam and to Thailand, which seemed a thousand miles away. We made it out of mainland Vietnam without being detected. As for our supplies, we carried two sacks of dried fish, six containers of gasoline (the equivalent to 100 gallons), and the clothes on our backs. Some people would bring gold, which was fashioned in a variety of forms and miraculously hidden in the boat or different parts of the body as a form of reserve for difficult circumstances. The first night at sea was calm, and we were able to travel all night. I could still remember the morning sun shining over us. For me it was an adventure, there we were racing with the dolphins in the untamed ocean, where the water was dark and salty. We were the “boat people,” the term that signifies freedom itself and the sacrifices that we all had to make. Even with such mesmerizing beauty, I was unable to stay conscious to enjoy it—I believe it was seasick or hunger that did that to me. My father offered me several spoons of water to drink and pieces of dried fish that had been cooked over the hot engine. The journey was non-stop. Everyone knew that land was beyond the horizon, but we never seemed to be able to it. The second night became what we’d all feared. The rain started to pour late in the evening, and the massive ocean began to roar, making the waves soared as high as a ten story building; we could see crests lighted up fiercely by nighttime light. All the men had to remove water from the boat as fast as they could, as it was unprotected from the rain or the waves that were hitting against it. It seemed as if we were fighting against the might of Mother Nature; life was passing in front of us. There was no way for any one to survive if the boat sank or overturned. Though everyone has his own belief, it was at that hour that even everyone had to believe in a more supreme being, one that could only save us. It was sleepless night, but the storm finally passed and we had miraculously survived. The tranquility of the morning calm was indescribable. We all praised the piloting skill of the captain and the years of experience fishing the ocean with this boat—the way he cut through the waves, riding high in the ocean without a compass but by using his intuition and knowledge of the relations between the stars and moon for travel. Yet our bad luck was far from over. As soon as the storm passed, we came upon an island, not realizing that it also belonged to the Vietnamese navy. Because of the lack of food and water we headed toward and was captured. We thought that was the end of it all; all the men would probably be jailed for the next 5 to 10 years, the women and children would probably be released to their relatives without a mean to restart their lives since they’d probably sold everything they own for this trip. The island was mainly and military outpost; we were left to sleep in a dilapidated wooden house, hurling together for warmth against the cold wind of the Pacific Ocean. Through determination we were able to bribe our ways out and were eventually released. In hide sight they probably had no use for us any way; of course, they would not want to waste their effort dragging us back to mainland Vietnam hundreds of miles away. We managed to get into international water soon after our release. Again, the sun was beating down us, but the ocean was calm. By then we had used our last drop of water and gasoline. Because we had passed through so many tribulations, we remained optimistic. Soon we saw the silhouette of a boat a distance away, heading toward our direction. One could only imagine the delights on everybody’s face. But this eventually vanished as the boat came near us and we realized ...