One day, a group of men, including my father and I, were out hunting for whales. I was standing on an ice floe that had broken off from the edge of the ice when I suddenly realised that I was drifting out to sea on the tide. I was moving further and further away from the camp. Everybody was too busy at camp to notice first that I was missing and secondly that I had drifted off on an ice floe. I started jumping up and down, shouting and waving my hands to attract their attention but to no avail. Suddenly, the little boy, Tyke, noticed me floating in the distance. I started jumping up and down, and waving my hands frantically. Luckily enough, he jumped into an umiaq and started rowing out towards me. I knew that Tyke was my only hope of being saved. Tyke wasn’t good at rowing but he managed to row the boat in a zigzag manner towards me. As he edged nearer and nearer to me, I started shouting instructions at him on how to row the boat. I needed to keep encouraging him as he was getting very tired with the effort of rowing. Eventually, the umiaq made contact with my ice floe. I managed to jump off my ice floe on to the umiaq, causing the boat to rock dangerously from side to side. I steadied the boat by bracing my feet against the sides and gradually it settled on the water. Tyke was my hero.