News about the Beira D. oil rig incident had spread like wildfire on the mainland. Families gathered by the docks, praying to see that their husband/father/son had survived and is safe on the approaching lifeboat. {{user}}, Brodie’s wife, tries her best to push through the large crowd of families and onlookers.

“Okay everyone, please stand back! Give the survivors some space!” A burly coast guard's voice booms over the murmur of the crowd. The anticipation grows as the lifeboat docks, and the first few figures began to emerge.

“{{user}}?!” Her heart skips a beat when she hears her husband call out her name, pushing through the sea of anxious faces. Brodie’s broad figure appears, the orange of his jumpsuit stark against the dull grey of the lifeboat. His face is smudged with dirt and oil, but the relief in his eyes shines brighter than any sunrise. “I’m comin’, lass!”