A/N - In Gilligan's Mother-in-Law, the native family was never given names; only Haruki was named. I chose to call the tribe The Kanaka, which means People in some Polynesian languages. I also gave the family names.

Since poor Skipper is often left out of the romantic loop, I thought that I'd also give the Ol' Salt some sugar and spice. )

CHAPTER 1

Captain Jonas Grumby meandered through the jungle. His blue shirt stuck to his back, and a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He took his hat off and wiped it away with a heavy sigh. It was a November afternoon, and the Hawaiian weather was unusually warm. He stopped and looked through the palm trees, out onto the beach.

He could see Gilligan and MaryAnn running in the surf. Ginger and Professor were laying on a blanket at the tree line. Part of him wanted to go out and join his friends, but he was painfully aware that they were two happy couples enjoying each other's company. He figured the last thing they wanted was a fifth wheel hanging around.

Of course, he knew that if he had gone out to join them, they would have welcomed him warmly. His feelings of intrusion were just imagined.

Skipper heard Gilligan's excited voice as the breeze carried the young sailor's laughter towards him.

"Here it comes! Look out, here it comes!" Gilligan shouted as he ran through the surf, laughing. Wearing his black bathing suit and with his wet bangs hanging down, he giggled as he looked over his shoulder at MaryAnn. She was running behind him in her yellow bikini, and a huge wave was barreling in behind them. She squealed as the wave hit her, sending her toppling over into the surf.

Ginger and Professor were taking a more leisurely approach to the gorgeous afternoon. He sat on a blanket, leaning against a large boulder, with his beat-up copy of Ferns in the Polynesian Islands open on his lap. He had two fern leaves in his hands and was examining them thoroughly.

"Roy," Ginger purred as she sunbathed beside him. "Roy? Is that fern really better looking than I am?"

Roy Hinkley lowered one of the leaves and looked over at her with a smile. "Hardly, Ginger. But it is quite interesting. Look at this one," he said as he held up a leaf to her. "It's a member of the palapalai family, and . . ."

She glared at him, and he stopped talking. Suddenly though, her expression softened as she asked him, "Have you seen Skipper today?"

"No, not since breakfast. Why do you ask?"

"He's been acting funny lately," she murmured. "Haven't you noticed?" she asked as she looked up at him with one hand shielding her eyes from the bright sun. He had his finger on the page of the book and was reading again. "Of course, you haven't," she scolded.

"Ginger. Hey, Ginger," Gilligan yelled as he ran up, spraying sand across both Ginger and Professor. "Come in the water with us. It's fun."

"Oh, Gilligan. Look what you've done," she scolded as she brushed the sand off of her legs.

"Sorry, Ginger," he said. "I just want you to come swim with us. The water is so warm."

MaryAnn sauntered up behind him and linked her arm in his. "Come on, Gilligan. She doesn't want to swim right now. Let's take a walk." As she led him away, she looked back over her shoulder at Ginger and Professor. The girls winked at each other with knowing smiles.

Skipper watched them from a distance. He didn't feel like going back to the huts. So he ambled along the jungle trail that led away from the beach. He turned left and the trail led him up the western side of the volcano. He knew that somewhere up here was a "secret" place that Gilligan and MaryAnn liked to visit. He wondered if he could find it, so to amuse himself for a while, he challenged himself to do so.

After a half hour of hiking, he hadn't had much luck locating the hideout that his little buddy was currently using. When he crossed a trail that overlooked another section of the beach, he stopped short. With his jaw hanging open, he stood frozen . . . almost unable to process what his wide eyes were seeing.

In the far distance, there were tiny canoes heading toward the island. He couldn't quite make out their facial paint or apparel, which could help him identify the natives. All he could see were six tribal dug-outs heading towards the beach.

Turning quickly, he hustled back down the trail towards the beach. He wasn't in the best shape and by the time he made it back there, he was gasping for breath and sweat was pouring down his face.

Professor and Ginger were still sitting in the same spot. Skipper ran up to them, quite out of breath. "Prof . . . Prof," he stammered. Bending over, he put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.

Professor dropped his book and rushed over to Skipper. Ginger sat up with a worried look on her face and asked "Skipper, what is it? What's wrong?"

When he finally caught his breath, he tried again.

"Where are Gilligan and MaryAnn?" he asked. "We've got trouble." He gasped and ran his hand through his sweaty hair, leaving it sticking up. "There are six canoes full of natives heading this way. They'll make shore just up around that bend," he said pointing up the coast.

Meanwhile, Gilligan and MaryAnn were strolling along, hand in hand. They had been strolling slowly through the jungle on their way to a more secluded section of the beach. Just as they stepped out of the tree line, MaryAnn stopped walking and pulled Gilligan into a hug. He grinned bashfully and hugged her back. They were both unaware that a mere 50 feet away, six canoes were pulling up onto the beach carrying a dozen natives.

When MaryAnn laid her head on Gilligan's chest with a small sigh and a smile on her face, he shifted his stance. Suddenly, she saw what was going on behind him. Lifting her hand up to her mouth, she tried to stifle her scream.

The natives, who had been pulling their canoes out of the water, all turned to look at her. Some of them put their hands on the hilts of their weapons. Everyone froze as they stared at each other . . .