But the fog had shrouded the place heavily. No other boats could be seen, nor any buildings at a distance.

"Keep blowing your whistle and use your flashlight to avoid a collision or capsizing," the driver behind me told another rescuer at the front.

I could see the whole picture — people huddling together, staring at each other in silence, and I heard the whistle and saw the flashlight, all in heavy fog.

It was all strangely familiar and surreal, like the end of the movie Titanic when Rose lay on a board, whistling with her last strength as rescuers with flashlights sought survivors.

But we were not in a film. This was reality.