It's afternoon on March 29th, 2015, in the Central Pacific Ocean.

On any normal day, the atoll known as the Chuk Lagoon is a glorious sight,

a collection of small, beautiful islands, blessed with lush, verdant plant life and golden beaches,

all surrounded by vivid blue skies and sparkling seas that stretch further than the eye can see.

Today, however, Chuk Lagoon is the scene of diabolical chaos.

A storm is raging.

Typhoon Mesaq.

Out at sea, vessels of all description are being thrown around by screaming 100 mile per hour winds.

Rain pounds down as though in solid blocks.

Aboard one of those vessels, clinging onto a steel railing with all his might,

is Tom Booth, 28-year-old cruise director of a tourist yacht.

An expert diver Tom is used to life out on the ocean,

but he's never known anything like this.

I'd experienced rough weather at sea, but nothing compared to what we experienced in truck.

The strength of the wind and being soaking where it is chilling.

And I was knackered. I was exhausted.

Correaning around the lagoon, the yacht is battered by the elements.

Great waves wash over the deck, smashing through windows and doors. And then, from the depths of the hull, an ungodly noise rises,

as the propeller grinds into a giant mass of coral hidden beneath the waves.

The yacht judders and lurches alarming me to one

side. Teetering almost horizontally over the sea, Tom loses his footing, collides with a table,

and sees four crewmates tumble into the water. For those left on board, it's a horrifying sight.

...