The sound of returning boats snapped me temporarily out of the self-induced guilt I was feeling. If they were coming back already, maybe that meant they found them! Our actions indicated identical thought as we jumped up and ran to the dock, waiting for the familiar Sam's speedboats to come into view. Jess, Jack, and the other captain pulled up quickly, the empty seats just that - empty.

"The live aboard is here. Jump on and we'll ride over and hop on. From the top deck, we should be able to see much further. It's almost night - we don't have any time to lose," Jess barked, betraying her panic. We all shuffled on silently, praying that we hadn't wasted too much time already.

Aboard the ship, I wanted to marvel silently at the size and the luxury. I didn't. I glued myself to the front of the top deck willing my eyes to see their safety hot dogs, their heads, anything. Dammit, why couldn't I see better? We all did that. Not a word was spoken as we scanned the horizon, shifting positions to gain better vantage points. Some of the divers on our boat cried, losing hope as the sun sank slowly into the horizon.

I remember the sunset was like fire that night. On any other night I would've been drawn in by the unspeakable beauty that Mother Nature unleashed. Tonight, I cursed her. Furious that the orange of the sun and surrounding clouds was turning the ocean into an angry, dark, gray mirror. Reflective, blinding and unforgettably infuriating.

While the added height provided us a better view, it also magnified the distance between ourselves and the water seemingly a million times. They would be no larger than balloons. Floating, floating, floating away, with no string to anchor.

I began to lose hope as the darkness fell, praying for Ethan and that group. When I was small, a young newlywed man had been carried away as he was windsurfing in between Managaha and Saipan. Two small islands in so much ocean. This was the same. I prayed that I would not have to see the same look on their partner's faces that I had seen on the young wife's so many years ago. I didn't want to admit to anyone that I was steeling myself for that moment.

I turned to the sound of helicopters whirling overhead, mimicking the zigzig pattern that we had made only 40 minutes ago in broad day light. Jess' sister, in her infinite wisdom had notified Palauan authorities who were thankfully able to respond quickly. As we watched them zoom back and forth, Jess sister approached the silent group. "You all might as well have a seat below deck. It's almost dark and there's nothing you can do now. It's out of your hands. If God is willing, the helicopters will find them." Much as we knew she was right, we all stayed at our positions until Jess herded our tired worn bodies downstairs, knowing we were all mentally and emotionally exhausted.

The group at the table was sullen, worried. Questions of "What do you think they're doing right now?" punctuated the air intermittently, only to be met with replies of "I don't know. I just hope they're all right," a thought we all shared, but were scared to believe.

The stress of the situation was heightened with the knowledge that authorities back on Koror had been notified that there were 11 Americans missing. I knew that at that moment, my father sat in the house gathering phone numbers preparing to call families, an unwanted requirement of his position. I also knew that at that moment he sat in his hands preparing to call Ain's family and ours, not knowing whether we were safe or not. He had 22 names and phone numbers at the ready. I hurt knowing what heartache I was inadvertently causing him.

For 30 minutes we sat like that, refusing food, water, conversation. It just didn't seem fair to indulge while the other group floated out there in the great wide open. Although they were the ones that were physically lost, our group was lost as well. I can't remember a single thought from that day except "pleasefindthempleasefindthempleasefindthempleasefindthempleasepleaseplease."

A slam of the dining room door focused us all as Jess rushed in exclaiming "They found them! They found them! Right before the sun went down they found them!" I can't remember exactly what I did at that moment. Maybe I hugged Ain with glee, or grabbed Jess or grabbed another dive buddy, but what I do remember feeling at that specific moment was overwhelming relief. The how's and where's of the situation were mere afterthoughts at that second. Right then I just wanted to lay eyes on the group and see that they were all in one piece.