(Extract)'The little galley crept up the European shore, the crew still rowing easily to save their strength before the next ordeal. I saw the millrace at Bebek point from at least half a mile away. The water was shooting round the corner in a seething mass where a rocky spur thrust out into the current flow. Whirlpools gyrated away from the edge of the race; blobs of foam dipped and spun in the hurrying current. As we drew nearer I called a warning to the crew; 'Thirty yards to go to the race ! ... Twenty .. start building up boat speed ! ' ... Just in front of me Mark began to say 'Couldn't we stay on this side ? Perhaps get round the point inside the current, and .. ' But before he finished his sentence Argo's bow hit the race and I heard his startled gasp. It was like steering failure in a moving car . Argo simply went out of control. '