Days have passed and Nikolas had to take immediate action. It was very early in the morning and Anna was sleeping restlessly. Deciding to risk discovery, he lit a fire, and using the remains of a towel, he made desperate smoke signals, hoping that some fisherman might see the smoke and come to their rescue. Nikolas prayed that they would be seen, but after forty-five minutes of frantic effort, there was nothing. He dejectedly crawled back into the cave and tried to rest.
At noon the following day, Nikolas spotted a plane flying low in their direction. He hoped it was British this time, but he chose to remain hidden, just to be on the safe side. He knew that the British did not have any reconnaissance planes in Crete. Nikolas carefully tried to identify the markings on the plane, but it was impossible because the aircraft made a wide turn over the island and then flew away.
Nonetheless, Nikolas kept his hopes up and tried to give courage to Anna, who had crawled to join him at the mouth of the cave. He tried to reassure her that any day now somebody would be on their way to rescue them. But just in case they didn't, he would build a raft and they would take their chances on the open sea. He pondered how such a paradise could so quickly turn into a living hell.
Somehow, Nikolas was certain that God had a plan for them and he surrendered to his will. "We are in your hands, God. Do what you will with us," he whispered.
He felt an inexplicable energy overwhelm him. In the warm spring afternoon he dove into the water and came up with two large scallops. He dove back down again and stayed under the water for a long time, holding his breath. When he surfaced, he had a small octopus wrapped around his right hand. Satisfied with his catch, he swam ashore and bit the octopus in the neck. When it squirmed loose, he slammed it on the rocks to kill it.
Anna watched from the mouth of the cave as Nikolas bashed the small octopus again and again against the rocks, even after the rubbery flesh had been softened. The slightest movement caused her to wince in pain. Her head throbbed from thirst and a rising fever. Growing irritable, she yelled at Nikolas:
"Stop bashing that poor creature! Don't you think you've hurt it enough?"
Nikolas paused, suddenly aware that he had been out of control.
"I'm sorry, Agape. I was just feeling so frustrated." Calming down, he then took a rock and carefully pounded just the tentacles, tenderizing them in preparation for their meal.