Thankfully, they both knew how to swim, and they could see a distant shoreline.
The mathematician grabbed the poet's hand, and they swam as hard as they could, as long as they could, until their arms and legs felt like quivering jelly. The more they struggled towards the land, the further away it seemed, and if both of them cried a little, there in the midst of the storm and the waves, I'm sure you wouldn't blame them.
Just when they were about to give up entirely, their feet finally touched the sandy shore.
They crawled up onto the beach and collapsed, exhausted, into sleep.