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Miriam Marvini wraps her arms around herself trying to conserve warmth.

It's a little after one in the morning on October 4th,

1980, and she's standing with her friend Agnes Lillard on the promenade deck of the cruise ship Prinsendown.

There's somewhere in the middle of the Gulf of Alaska, and it's freezing.

Muriel and Agnes rushed here from their cabin just minutes ago after the captain announced that a fire had broken out in the engine room.

He ordered all passengers to evacuate onto the deck as a precaution,

but the order hadn't said anything about dressing warmly.

Luckily, Muriel and Agnes put on sweaters, but plenty of other passengers are shivering in nothing but their pajamas.

Muriel looks out at the sea. It's dark and still,

considerably calmer than the rough waters that forced so many passengers to skip dinner just a few hours ago,

but the air is damp and biting. She can't wait to be back in her warm bed.

Agnes voices what Muriel is thinking.

So there's a little fire somewhere, big deal. They have all kinds of foams and chemicals to put it out.

I'm sure we'll be back in our cabin in no time. Muriel nods. She can see her breath illuminated in the glow of the emergency lights.

I hope so. I can't believe how cold it is.

Muriel and Agnes are both in their mid-60s. They've been inseparable since their husbands died several years ago.

The two women gulfed together and traveled together.

For this cruise, they spent months planning and pouring over brochures.

Before they left their homes in New Jersey, their families threw them a big bond voyage party.

Passengers continue to crowd onto the deck. A woman that Muriel recognizes as the captain's wife is passing out blankets.

Another woman in curlers in a robe meets Muriel's plants.

...