As in:
His first thought was that whatever had hit his foot had done so with predatory intent. And that would make perfect sense out here, beyond horizons of hope, where he’d been struggling like an injured animal would struggle in its last throes beneath circling shadows of birds of prey. The surprise of the contact focused his exhausted brain. Half of it concentrated with terror and precisely the other half with the relief that it was about to be over and he would at least be freed from the agonizing decision of when to stop trying to survive.
But whatever it was didn’t seem to be attacking. So, he again let his body sink and felt, again, something beneath him. This time he struck with both feet. It felt like a pipe, or a metal railing. The next down he felt his right foot on the pipe-like object and the left foot on something flatter. He finally figured it was the railing on the wreck of a ship or a boat. But whatever it was, it was enough to give him something to push off against on his way back to the surface, so that his sun-burned and tired arms wouldn’t have to work as much to pull him toward the air.
Minutes passed, and after sensing that he was regaining some of his strength, he again began to fade, this time with hallucinations that his feet were coming to rest on the back of a giant turtle. The turtle hallucination set in and it became a toe-hold into a surprisingly strong hope that, in time, the turtle would awaken, and carry him back to shore. He didn’t see his rescuer until the boat was nearly right on top of him.
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