You struggle, fighting your way toward what you
hope is the surface.  Finally your hand feels air.
Your face breaks above the water.  And you can
breathe!  The waves lash your eyes and cheeks, but
now you know you have a chance.  If only you can
find something to hold on to, something that will
support you.  You swivel your head around.  The
boat is about thirty feet away, pinned between two
coral crags.  And several hundred yards in the other
direction the volcano looms ominously.
	The you come upon what you are searching
for - a large piece of wood, probably a spar from
the boat.  You cling to it, grateful to be floating.
	Only a few feet away an arm waves - but very
weakly.  It's Bill!
	You kick yourself and the spar over to him, and
he grabs at it.  He's been hurt and obviously needs
help, so you reach over and clutch his shirt.  He's
losing consciousness, you can tell.  But he still can
manage a few chilling words:
	"Stop Omicron!" he whispers.  "They want to
take over- to take over everything! Remember!
Stop the Omicron Masters!"
	Then he's unconscious.
	You look around again.  You can probably make 
it to the boat with Bill, you tell yourself.  But what if
the storm breaks up the Starbuck?  Maybe you and
Bill should try to make shore.  Then again, the
shore is a long way off, and Bill isn't going to be
doing much swimming.

 If you try to reach shore... 
 If you try to swim to the boat...