You can read part one here

The mass of rafted up kayaks gave a faint blue point of light where each man was wearing a 12-hour duration chemical light. It’s a plastic tube that when bent in half breaks a vile of liquid. When then agitated it will glow faintly. And now I saw a blue light point leave the raft and began to drift away from the others.

“Man overboard, Man overboard!” I called out to First Mate as I slapped him on the shoulder.

“I see him; want me to divert over and pick him up!?”

“No, we can’t allow the boat to lose the kayak formation; I’ll have to get him!”

With that, I found myself once again over the port gunwale and back into the salty drink. I flailed my arms wildly until I reached the blue light and I found … just a blue light. There was no man overboard, just a dislodged and wayward chemlight. I would learn later that one of the men got irritated at his chemlight that was rubbing his neck, so he pulled it loose and threw it in the water. He was painfully cognizant of his error.

I turned back to where I thought I knew the boat to be but saw nothing. I felt a distinct thump in the pit of my gut. Another harsh clash of éclair fiercely lit the panorama and I thankfully saw the hull of the boat once again. I crawled my way back and was promptly snatched back out of the drink by my stalwarts and trusty First Mate.

“Where is he!?” cried the First Mate.