Polar Shift

The Zodiac and its two passengers had slipped about two-thirds of the way down the steep sides of the fu

The lower the boat descended, the darker the stygian atmosphere around them became. The thick mists being churned up at the bottom of the whirlpool had thickened and further cut down the meager sunlight from the surface. Both Trouts were suffering from vertigo induced by the constant spi

The boat had remained at the same slanting attitude with its bottom parallel to the side of the vortex. Gamay and Paul sat side by side, so close they seemed to be joined at the hip. They were holding on to the boat's safety line, and to each other. They were numb with exhaustion from riding in a half-standing, half-sitting position, with their bodies angled and feet wedged under the lower pontoon. Moisture had seeped in around their rain gear, soaking their clothes, and the cold added to their misery.

At their accelerating rate of descent, it was clear that their suffering would end soon. They were minutes away from plunging into the thickest part of the billowing mists. Gamay glanced upward for one last look at the sun. She blinked, unable to believe her eyes.

A man was dangling above the Zodiac. He was silhouetted against the dull sunlight, and she couldn't make out his face, but there was no mistaking the broad shoulders.

Kurt Austin.

He hung from a line attached to the helicopter. He'd been waving his arm and shouting himself hoarse, but the noise from the whirlpool had drowned out his voice as well as the sound of the whirling rotors.

Camay dug her elbow into Paul's side. He managed a grim smile when he followed her pointing finger with his eyes and saw Austin doing his Peter Pan imitation above their heads.

The helicopter was matching the Zodiac's speed around the inside of the whirlpool. In an amazing example of stunt flying, Zavala flew the chopper at a banking angle to keep its rotors from touching the fu

The rescue had been hastily improvised. As the helicopter descended into the whirlpool, Austin had spotted a small flash of bright yellow more than halfway down the side of the fu

The helicopter chased after the whirling Zodiac like a cop pursuing a speeding car. Austin quickly tied a series of man-harness hitches in the rescue line. He had his foot in one of these loops and his hand in another as he swung back and forth in the turbulence caused by the rotor downwash and the updraft from the whirlpool.

Trout motioned for Gamay to go first. She waved at Austin to signal that she was ready. The helicopter dropped lower until the bottom loop of the ladder was about a foot from her outstretched hands.

Austin had climbed to the lower end of the makeshift ladder in the hope that his weight would stabilize it. But the line still jerked and snapped like a bullwhip.

The lifeline grazed Camay's fingertips, only to evade her grasp. She tried two more times to grab the loop, but the same thing happened. In a desperate move, she stretched her body to every inch of its five-foot-eight height and pulled herself up until she was onto the higher pontoon.

The line came down again. She balanced herself precariously, threw her hands up like a volleyball player trying a block and this time she grabbed the lower loop with both hands.

She became airborne. With the weight of two people holding it down, the line became more stable. She hung on with one hand, grabbed the next loop and pulled herself higher. The rope spun as she climbed, increasing the effects of vertigo.

She faltered for a moment and might have fallen, but Austin saw that she was in trouble. He reached down, grabbed her wrist and hauled her to the next loop. She raised her chin, saw Austin's fierce grin a few feet above her and mouthed a silent thanks.

With the bottom loop free, it was Trout's turn to abandon the Zodiac. He reached above his head to signal that he was ready. The line dropped to within inches of his outstretched hand. As Trout went to grab the line, turbulence battered the helicopter, and it shifted toward the slanting water wall. Trout's fingers grasped at air, and he almost lost his balance.

Zavala had been struggling to compensate for the added weight on one side of the chopper. With a cool hand at the controls, he moved the helicopter back into position. Trout concentrated his full attention on the lowest loop, estimated its distance, then, using the springiness in the pontoon of the rubberized boat, he lunged up and grabbed the line. He held on to the single loop with one hand, unable to grab on to a higher handhold as he twisted in the wind.

The helicopter began a slow, steady ascent, moving up at an angle roughly parallel to the whirlpool's sloping side. The water walls fell away as the aircraft gained altitude. They had reached the fu

Trout had been unable to pull himself up to another loop. He still dangled with one outstretched arm. His fingers were raw from rope burn. He felt as if his elbow socket would pop at any second. Throughout the entire ascent, he had twisted at the end of the swinging line.

Zavala was trying to balance the need to put distance between the helicopter and the whirlpool with the added strain that would be placed on his human cargo by an increase in the chopper's speed.

The helicopter was about two hundred feet from the whirlpool's edge when Trout's strength gave out. He lost his grip and fell into the sea, hitting the water with a mighty splash.

He was fortunate that he hit the surface feetfirst. His legs cushioned the shock, but his knees came up into his chest and knocked the wind out of his lungs. He plunged several feet under the surface before the buoyancy in his flotation vest took hold. He came up spitting seawater. Trout didn't think his body could get much colder, but the frigid Atlantic immediately penetrated to his bones.

Zavala had felt a slight jounce when the load lightened and suspected he had lost one of his passengers. He brought the helicopter around in a banking turn, hovered for an instant, then dropped down so his friend could reach the rope ladder. For the second time that day, Trout was reaching for the rope. But as his stiff, sore fingers came within inches of the loop, he found himself dragged away by a strong current. Trout was a strong swimmer who had been around the ocean all his life, but the more he stroked, the farther from the rope he found himself.

The helicopter tried to keep pace.

The current was pulling Trout with such force that he found it impossible to stay in place long enough to reach for the loop. Time and again, he tried. He was rapidly drawn back to the edge of the whirlpool, sucked into the ring of breakers and swept under the wall of foam.

It was all he could do to keep his head above water to breathe. The whirlpool seemed to be trying to drag back at least one of the humans who had the audacity to escape its clutches.

The current carried him around the rim. Trout struggled to keep his head above water in the surflike conditions around the whirlpool.