The Crossing.

It was now 11 pm, the air was cold and the sea relatively calm with light waves. Lights shimmered on the surface of the water. We hid in between the bushes on the beach while the rubber boat was prepared. This was the second attempt and it had to succeed. A Coast Guard patrol passed by. We were watching them but they could not see us. My heartbeat increased bit by bit. ‘Calm down heart, we will cross safely, calm down.’ 

When the patrol moved further away, a feeling of relief came over me and we began putting on life jackets while the rubber boat was put into the water. The trip organizer gave the signal and began loading us onto the boat. One of the translators with the organizer explained that we had to handle the boat ourselves and that we had to reach a light in the distance he was pointing at. He said there was a sign in the middle of the sea which means we means we have reached the end of the regional Turkish waters and we are then in Greek waters. “Keep going until you reach the island of Samos.”

None of the people migrating knew how to navigate the boat, but we were forced to. One of the men took over the rudder and we began moving towards Greece. None of my family members knew what time my trip was, except my little brother, who I had asked not to tell anyone until I reached safety, in fear of their emotions.

I was at the back of the boat, close to the engine. There were three of us driving, but boat was difficult to handle and keep on course. It was filled with over 50 people, young and old, small children and women. After 1 kilometer, the water became shaky and the waves reached 40 cm – the boat started going off track. We felt the boat almost ripping to pieces. Fear and hysteria overcame the women and children. Rain started falling from the sky and the children and women started crying. It was completely dark and vision was impossible in the middle of the sea. We were surrounded by water and we could not see anything else.

…To be continued.