The following text is expected to have a 2-minutes reading time.
During a solo voyage in 1981, Steven Callahan’s ship capsized, leaving him in a desperate situation. He managed to escape the wreckage in an inflatable raft, but found himself stranded in a remote part of the Atlantic Ocean, far from any shipping lanes, with very little food and water. With few options available, Callahan made the only logical choice—he set his course toward the nearest land, the Caribbean islands, some 1,800 miles away.
Life as a castaway was harsh. Sharks circled his raft as powerful waves tossed it about, repeatedly drenching him with seawater that left him shivering and worsened the sores on his body.
Fortunately, Callahan found ways to sustain himself. He used a spear gun to catch fish for food and rigged a device to collect rainwater for drinking. Carefully calculating his ration, he allowed himself half a pint of water per day—a small sip every six hours. It was barely enough to survive. As the days turned into weeks, he constantly recalculated his position, gradually increasing the margin of error around the distance he had covered.
Each day brought difficult choices. Staying awake at night increased his chances of spotting a passing ship, but it also drained his limited reserves of water and energy, making it harder to function the following day.
Whenever a ship appeared on the horizon, Callahan had to decide whether or not to use his flare gun. If the ship was close enough, signaling could mean rescue, but if it was too far, using a flare would waste one of his few remaining chances for help.
Fishing posed its own dilemma. Without enough fish, he would starve, but every attempt to fish used up precious energy and risked damaging his raft or losing his spear.
With every decision, Callahan carefully considered the possible outcomes, weighing the risks of each choice. He knew that nothing was guaranteed and often reminded himself, “You are doing the best you can. You can only do the best you can,” like a mantra to keep himself going.
Day after day, he drifted at a speed of eight miles per hour, gradually losing more than a third of his body weight. After seventy-six long days at sea, a fishing boat off the coast of Guadeloupe finally spotted and rescued him.
Callahan had been so disciplined with his water rationing that he still had five pints left. Once rescued, he drank them all, one after another, finally quenching his thirst after eleven weeks of deprivation, and allowing himself to think, “I’m saved.”