It was a trial by fire in the sea

The first day on Sun Vista was thoroughly enjoyable, and the crew’s service top-class. Relaxing, I forgot all about my worries in Mumbai.

Next day I was peacefully sleeping in my room in the afternoon, when someone knocked. On getting up, I realised there were no lights in the room, yet there was no cause for alarm. Not even when the crew member who had woken me up told me, “There’s a problem in the electric room. Everyone will have to get on to the upper deck.” I told him I was feeling sleepy and would join the others later on, but he urged me to shift instantly, “for half-an-hour, till the problem is solved.”

So, family in tow, I reluctantly climbed on to the upper deck. To my surprise, I found that all the other occupants of the ship had already reached there, and were as confused as I was.

I soon went up to deck number 10. From there, I could see smoke billowing out of the ship. At 3.45 p.m., half-an-hour after we had all perched ourselves on the top deck, Captain Sven Hartzenn alerted us: “There’s a fire in the engine room. We’ll try to bring it under control in an hour. But no need to worry. The situation isn’t serious.”

By this time, the crew members had started regaling us with their entertainment programmes and some good food and drinks. Of course, some of the youngsters were joking, “Something like the Titanic should happen, it will be great fun,” but there was still no reason for panic.

At around 5 p.m., they arranged for barbeque on the deck, and the orchestra played the theme tune of Titanic (not intentionally, though!), among others. In the next 30 minutes, however, the fumes got worse, and uneasiness set in. At 5.30 pm, the captain announced: “We are unable to control the fire. We will disembark.”

Soon as he said this, everyone rushed to deck number nine, where lifeboats had been kept, and a scramble for life-jackets ensued. Except for Darshan, who kept asking `Where are we going, papa?’ everybody was nervous, including crew members.

At 6 p.m., we were lowered into one of the 18 lifeboats. Everyone still thought the fire would be controlled in an hour and we would return to the ship, but our hopes dimmed when a big fire broke out, now on the upper deck, at 6.30 p.m. As another hour passed, everyone got sea-sick. My wife vomited four times, as did many others. Luckily Darshan was unaffected, and I kept telling him – not with complete self-belief – that a ship would soon come and rescue us.

At 7.45 p.m., the first rescue boat came along and began pouring water on the burning ship. Occupants of four of the lifeboats were lifted on to a ship at 9 p.m., but we were still stranded. We requested that we too should be taken away but were told it was impossible at that time because the first task was to control the flames.

We kept bobbing in the sea for seven hours. Finally, well after 1 a.m., a cargo ship was sent for us, and everyone got on to it, some weeping uncontrollably. Relieved, we then thought we would go to Sun Vista later to collect whatever baggage remained after the blazing fire.

We reached Penang at 9 a.m. on Friday, without any money or clothes. Some of the passengers were, in fact, stinking due to vomit on their clothes. Thankfully we were taken to the best hotel, Shangrila, and it was there, while having our breakfast, that we saw the news flash: the Sun Vista had sunk. All of us immediately called home to inform our friends and relatives of our safety.

I still can’t believe a 700-feet long ship can go down into the sea, but one thing I have come to believe through personal experience: it is possible to undergo a trial by fire in the sea.