From the bridge of the Kavo Delfini, second mate Nicolas Damis spotted it off the starboard side: a feebly waved red T-shirt.

As Damis steered the 758-foot bulk carrier closer, Capt. George Kontos saw a small capsized boat with seven shivering passengers on the keel. Two others bobbed in the water, clinging to the side.

It was 9:20 a.m. on a cool, clear Friday, Dec. 18, the Kavo's 15th day at sea. Kontos cut the ship's engines, dropped a lifeboat and began rescuing the survivors of the deadliest Cuba-Miami boat disaster ever documented.

Since Fidel Castro seized power in January 1959, an estimated 500,000 Cubans have fled the island by crossing to South Florida. Hundreds have been swallowed by the sea.

But hundreds more keep coming. Human smuggling in South Florida has boomed recently, with boaters ferrying Haitian and Cuban migrants into the United States on small motorboats. The recent disaster hasn't pinched the flow: 380 Cubans have arrived in South Florida since Dec. 18.

In that incident, 23 Cubans crammed into a 29-foot Wellcraft speedboat from a barren Bahamian islet and headed into the choppy Florida Straits. Eight miles from shore, close enough to see Miami's glow, the boat's captain said the motors stalled. Then a wave flipped the vessel.

Twenty-three souls plunged into 300 feet of water. Nine drowned. Five others were swept away by the sea and never seen again.

Smuggling alleged

U.S. Border Patrol agents say that it was a smuggling case, that boat owner Francisco Gomez and his friend Pedro Julio Guevara picked up the illegal immigrants from Anguilla Cay in the Bahamas and attempted to bring them to U.S. soil. Guevara was already under investigation by Border Patrol agents for his possible connection to the smuggling of 37 Cubans last year, traced to the Palacio de los Jugos on Flagler Street.

Both Gomez and Guevara, among the rescued survivors, deny the charges. Their trial in Miami federal court is scheduled to begin Feb. 16, though it is likely to be delayed. The pair, both U.S. residents, could face the death penalty if found guilty, because of the lost lives.

Some survivors, who were released to families in Miami by immigration officials, are expected to be witnesses.

This is their story, based on taped interviews of the survivors by U.S. Border Patrol agents; Herald interviews with their families and lawyers; interviews and documents from the medical examiner's offices in Port St. Lucie and Miami-Dade County; interviews with the captain and crew of the Kavo Delfini; and the U.S. Coast Guard case file.

I. THE LAUNCH

Barbaro Rosendo Lopez was desperate to leave Cuba.

One day in December, Lopez, 28, told a friend he knew simply as Daniel that he wanted to leave his home island for the United States. A few days later, Daniel called Lopez at his home in Santa Clara: Be ready to leave on Tuesday, Dec. 15. Bring 800 Cuban pesos (about $38).

Lopez packed food, a change of clothes and 1,000 Cuban pesos ($48), just to have a little extra. Daniel was going, too.

They left with several others from Playa Sagua, in northern Cuba, on a wooden fishing boat at daybreak Dec. 16.

The trip didn't last long. Four hours later, deeming the weather too rough, the boat captain returned to a small key near Cuba, where they spent the night.

Trip is resumed

The next morning, Dec. 17, they awoke to a calmer sea and left, once again, toward Florida.

They got as far as Anguilla Cay, a barren islet where dozens of past Cuban refugees have been found. The captain dropped them off, assuring them a plane or a boat would pass soon and see them, then motored back to Cuba.

Suddenly, 21 of them were alone on the island, 45 miles north of Cuba, 100 miles south of Key Largo. Among them were Pedro Julio Guevara's relatives: his wife; his 9-year-old son, Yasel; his brother, Alexis, 30; and his brother's 4-year-old daughter, Lineidys.

''We were a little worried, but we stayed,'' Lopez said. ''We never thought that we would come directly to the U.S.''

So they stayed, with little food to keep them and wondering what divine grace would get them off the island.

Waves build up

The weather looked bad, Lopez said.

In fact, atmospheric forces were already roiling that would make Dec. 16, 17 and 18 three of the worst days of the month to be in the Gulf Stream. The first two days brought a cold front, followed by a low-pressure system that built swells to 10 feet.

''The waves were higher and steeper. They had sharp edges, like a breaking wave on a beach,'' said Jim Lushine, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service. ''The steeper wave will give you more violent pitching of the boat.''

Dec. 18 also marked a new moon, making the preceding days some of the darkest of the cycle.

The Florida Straits were an ink-black abyss of ugly weather.

II. THE BOAT OWNER

Francisco Gomez came as a rafter in 1993.

Shortly after arriving in Miami from Cuba, Gomez went to North Carolina to study English for three years. With his family still in Cuba, he returned to Hialeah and worked as an aviation mechanic with a local company that overhauls landing gears.

A friend of Gomez's from their hometown of Santa Clara, Pedro Guevara also came to Miami from Cuba, then left to work at a shipyard in Tampa, where he had family.

But he still occasionally visited his friend at the West Dade home that Gomez shared with girlfriend Marielesa Morffi.

Gomez and Morffi would cruise around Biscayne Bay and the Keys in Gomez's 19-foot SeaPro boat.

Speedboat purchased

On Dec. 1, Gomez bought a 29-foot fiberglass Wellcraft Scarab speedboat for $28,000 from Daniel Sokol Jr., a Broward County sheriff's sergeant.

Known as a ''go-fast'' boat, Gomez's Scarab could hit 65 mph, powered by two Yamaha 225-horsepower outboard motors.

But it is a narrow boat and safely holds eight passengers, said Justin O'Lordi, a Wellcraft-certified technician at Boat World of Florida in Pompano Beach. ''Put too many people on there and you can very easily capsize,'' he said.

Sometime before Dec. 17, Gomez said, Guevara told him he had received a call from Cuba. He needed Gomez's help: His wife and son were on Anguilla Cay.

The weather was worsening when Gomez and Guevara launched the Wellcraft from Tavernier. Investigators still don't know where they went initially or when. Morffi would later say she last saw Gomez on Dec. 14. It would take only a few hours for the Scarab to reach Anguilla Cay.

Surprising discovery

They arrived at the cay at 1 p.m. Dec. 17. Later, Gomez would say he was expecting only Guevara's wife and son; he found about 20 strangers.

The group begged to go. According to witnesses, Gomez refused.

''He said he couldn't,'' Lopez said. ''But we begged and begged. And finally, he said OK.''

''I explained to everyone how dangerous it was and how they were putting us close to death,'' Gomez later told a U.S. Border Patrol agent in an interview. ''Everyone wanted to come to the U.S. They said they didn't want to suffer any more in Cuba.''

So the Scarab bounced into the choppy Gulf Stream toward Miami, packed with 23 hopeful passengers.

''He felt he had no choice but to help these people,'' said Joaquin Perez, Gomez's Miami lawyer.

A worried reaction

At 2 p.m. that day, Morffi, Gomez's girlfriend, and friend Jesus Martin launched Gomez's 19-foot SeaPro from Black Point Marina in South Dade and headed into Biscayne Bay.

Morffi said she was worried. She had not seen Gomez in three days.

''I was desperate,'' she said. ''I was afraid something was wrong.''

So, Morffi said, she headed blindly toward the Atlantic.

At 7:30 p.m., Morffi and Martin were stopped by Coast Guardsmen a few miles off Tavernier for driving with no lights. The Guardsmen boarded and found five gallons of water and five five-gallon tanks of gasoline. Morffi told them they were on their way to Key West to meet a friend and decided to turn back because of the bad weather.

Despite suspicion, the Coast Guard turned them loose.

''In the normal course of taking out a boat, I can think of no reason for taking out 25 extra gallons of fuel,'' said Petty Officer Bob Montague, a spokesman.

Morffi and Martin headed back to Black Point.

III. THE NIGHT

About the same time and miles to the east, Gomez, Guevara and their 21 companions bounced through worsening waves.

One engine stalled. Then started again. Stalled, sputtered, started.

The boat struggled under its unaccustomed weight. The motor stalled again. Then the other did the same.

Stall, sputter, start. Stall. Both engines out.

The boat was about eight miles from Key Largo. Waves poured over the sides. Next, the motorized bilge pump that had been bailing out the water gave out. The men grabbed buckets and bailed.

For hours, they sloshed water overboard. For hours, steep waves pounded the boat.

Pounding takes toll

Suddenly, a crack appeared in the deck. Water spurted through.

Gomez said he grabbed his radio and called out, ''Mayday! Mayday!'' with no answer. His cellular phone was not working.

Then, just after 11:30 p.m., a hard, fast wave hammered the boat, flipping 19 people into the 70-degree, ink-black sea. Four others, all women, were trapped in the boat's now-submerged cabin.

''It happened so fast, it didn't give us a chance,'' Lopez said. ''That wave hit and suddenly we were in the water. Someone yelled, 'To the boat!' and we swam back and held on.''

Lopez clung to a motor, stealing quick gulps of air as wave after wave pounded over him.

It was so dark they could see only the person next to them, Lopez said. At one point, someone floated past him and Lopez called out. There was no answer.

''I said, 'That guy's drowned.' ''

Survivors hold on

In the water, the passengers, including at least four women and two children -- Yasel and Lineidys -- held on to the boat's side, motors or keel. Drifting with the boat in the current, they urged one another to hang on.

Lopez heard Daniel, his friend: ''Barbaro! Barbaro! Help me!''

Once, Lopez tried swimming to Daniel, but Lopez's neighbor grabbed him.

''He said I was crazy, that the current would take me away,'' Lopez said. ''That guy later drowned.''

Daniel kept shouting, saying he couldn't hang on much longer. The yells persisted for a long time, Lopez said. Then Daniel was gone.

Others hung on. Anyone who drifted off would be grabbed and pulled back, Lopez said. At one point, Gomez swam beneath the boat and re-emerged with a flare gun and three flares.

The water was nearly 30 degrees below body temperature. Fatigue and hypothermia began to settle in.

''We didn't think we were going to survive,'' Lopez said. ''Our only hope was a passing ship.''

Unseen by passing ships

Hope floated by about 3:15 a.m. A cruise ship, plying toward Miami, passed close enough that survivors said they heard the rumble of its engines. Gomez shot one flare, then another. The cruise ship didn't stop.

Soon after, a freighter passed so close that survivors said they thought it would hit them. Gomez shot the final flare. The ship chugged on.

''A lot of people lost hope then,'' Lopez said.

Dawn broke at 7:02 a.m. Friday, Dec. 18. The survivors counted heads: 11 left. No women.

They had been in the water for eight hours, clutching a bobbing boat and swallowing salt water. The passengers were likely in a state of moderate hypothermia. That's when shivering slows or stops, muscles begin to stiffen, and mental confusion and apathy set in. Breathing becomes slower and shallow. Drowsiness and strange behavior can occur.

Stamina, hope fade

After daybreak, Lopez said, one man yelled for the others not to drown him. No one was near him. Another said a shark was touching his leg and begged the others not to let him die.

''We told him to not to worry, to calm down,'' Lopez said. ''But then he said he couldn't take it anymore, pushed off from the boat and drowned.''

Another followed him.

The men held on to the children, including Lineidys, who was starting to fade. They tied two strands of rope to the children's waist and to the boat.

Hope was slipping fast when they spotted a ship on the horizon.

Someone crawled atop the Wellcraft and waved a red T-shirt.

IV. SEARCH AND RESCUE

After spotting the survivors, Capt. Kontos noted the time, called his bosses in Athens, then called the U.S. Coast Guard.

The Kavo Delfini had come from Amsterdam and was on its way to New Orleans to pick up 54,000 tons of soybeans. Its owners in Athens told Kontos to rescue the migrants. He sent a 36-seat lifeboat to the capsized boat.

''I thought the little boy and the little girl were dead,'' said Erchimades Paiso, who steered the lifeboat. ''They were barely moving.''

Kontos' call to the Coast Guard command center in Miami set off a simultaneous rescue effort that would involve three 110-foot Coast Guard cutters -- the Chandeleur, the Manitou and the Farallon -- two 41-foot utility boats, two 25-foot shallow-water response boats, two H-65 Dolphin helicopters and two H-60 Jayhawk helicopters.

Within 20 minutes, dozens of search-and-rescue specialists swarmed around the capsized boat, now 25 miles southeast of the Port of Miami with its bow sticking out of the sea. They looked for survivors. Or bodies.

Bodies are recovered

The first body was found at 11:08 a.m., inside the boat. By 2:30 p.m., seven more would be found in or around the boat.

At 3 p.m., the captain of the 41-foot utility boat hauling the eight bodies called the command center. His crew was beginning to ''freak out.''

''How would you feel if you're riding around with eight dead bodies on board?'' Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer D.R. Jersey asked. ''This was a particularly stressful situation for the crews as well.''

Six bodies were identified:

Carmen Luisa Rodriguez, Odalys Rodriguez Castro, Marilyn Lorenza Marrero, Silvia Barbara Rodriguez Alvarez, Alicia Ortega Perez and Dayana Morales Gonzalez. Two victims were never named by U.S. Border Patrol agents. Five people were never found. Likely among them: Pedro Guevara's wife.

The survivors: Lopez, Gomez, Francisco Alberto Palazuelos, Pedro Julio Jimenez, Javier David Saez, the Guevara brothers, and Yasel and Lineidys.

Dozens of Coast Guardsmen would search more than 2,000 square miles of open sea but find no more. The search was called off at dusk Saturday, Dec. 19.

The last body was found the next day by boaters on a pleasure craft 14 miles east of Fort Pierce -- 161 miles north of where the boat capsized. Shark bites covered the body of Angel Luis Sanchez, 45. His right foot was gone.

V. THE RESCUERS

Aboard the Kavo Delfini the morning of Dec. 18, the nine survivors hugged and kissed Capt. Kontos and showered him with ''Gracias, capitán!'' They were given dry, warm blankets, cups of beef stew and shots of Metaxa, Greek brandy. Kontos chatted in broken Spanish. Later, when their passengers felt stronger, crewmen grilled steaks for them.

They were in generally good condition, Kontos said, except for 4-year-old Lineidys. She was weak and her body was covered by ''inky splotches,'' a sign of severe hypothermia. She would later recover fully and be delivered to family members in Miami.

She was the crew's favorite.

''We were in love with her. Everyone was talking about her,'' Kontos said. ''She had the most beautiful black eyes. I wanted to take her with me. I almost called my wife and asked if she wanted a daughter.''

At 2:20 p.m., the crew of the Kavo Delfini said goodbye and handed over the Cubans to the U.S. Coast Guard, which brought them to Miami.

Kontos ordered the engines back up, and the crew headed to New Orleans, talking most of the way about Lineidys' big, dark eyes.

Herald staff writer Rick Jervis can be reached by email at rjervis@herald.com