When the water hit his face and tried to travel down his throat, his gag reflex kicked in and he began to choke. Shaking his head he tried to move from the spray but it followed him around.

"Hold still man," came a voice, "You need tae drink suttin'"

As the water hit its mark again, he gagged.

Twisting over so that he lay on his side, he coughed and threw up salt water in equal amounts onto the sand below him. As he did so, he became a little more aware of his surroundings; everything still unsure and disoriented.

Besides the sand beneath him, there was a gentle breeze blowing and the sun shone down, warming him nicely. He had lost his jacket and his boots, but the rest of him seemed to be all there.

Rolling back onto his back, he ran a hand over his eyes clearing moisture and other remnants from them. He opened them slowly, squinting as the sun light hit him full on and moaning as it burned his eyes.

"Up you get, Cap't" came the voice again and a pair of large arms gripped him at the shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position. Resting his head on his knees which he had pulled up to his chest, he felt a wave of dizziness hit him and he resisted the urge to fall back onto the sand again.

"Ere," the hands came into view again, this time holding a few biscuits. He made a clumsy grab at them, before the other hand grabbed his and placed the biscuits firmly into them. Bringing them to his mouth he caught a whiff of them and he found his hunger, he stuffed half of them in his mouth at once.

"Slowly man. You throw that up, your eating it again. Aint going tae be no waste 'ere,"

He chewed slower after that, washing it down with more water that was handed to him.

As the food began to slowly revive him, and the sun felt less harsh on his eyes, he took in more about his surroundings. The man who was with him was one of the cooks from the ship. A burly Scotsman that could make grown men cower just by looking at them, but in all honestly was really a gentle giant with a passion for both his country and his food.

They where high up on the shore line and he could see drag marks from where he assumed he had been dragged from the surf. The beach stretched for miles in both directions, the pure white sands yielding little information about where they were.

"I've no idea where we are," said the other man as though he was reading his mind, "But I'm mighty glad there was somewhere within swimming distance."

"You can swim?" he asked. He knew that although many men joined the navy as mere boys, very few of them could actually swim. It was one of the greatest killers of navel officers and far outpassed the number of men dieing from wounds and injuries received in battle.

"Me father throw me in a pond when I was little and that taught me quick how to swim. O'course, it wasnay till I was a little older that I realised the pond was only about a foot deep and a coulda stood up had a wanted."

Frederick nodded. His throat felt raw, like he was suffering from a lurgy and he suspected it was due to the amount of sea water he'd ingested and then brought back up. There was a steady thump in his head. After running a hand through his hair, he found the cause of that in a large bump at the back of his skull.

"What happened?" he asked, looking over at the other man. "The last thing I remember is being trapped below deck."

The Scotsman nodded. "I found you on ma own way oot. Hauled you wit' me and waited in the shadows till the other ship hightailed it oot of there. Found a board an' floated of in this direction wit' a couple'o supplies."

Frederick looked around the beach area again. "How did you know," he began.

"Which I direction tae go? Took a guess. Heard one o' the lieutenants talking about them, called the Azores. Owned by the Portuguese. No idea which one we're on though."

Frederick nodded, he'd heard of them. Had even considered stopping at them on the way home had their supplies been low.

They sat beside one another on the warm sand and let the enormity of the situation hit them full on.

They where lost. Stranded on a dessert island in the middle of nowhere.

Frederick felt like laughing. It sounded like such a tale that one read about in a fantasy book.

One advantage they had on their side, was that the island, if it was one of the ones they believed it to be, was inhabited and should they manage to make it round the island, they would hopefully be able to gain passage back to Britain.

As they sat and observed the sea, its waves gently lapping at the shore in a completely different manner to what they had been several hours before, Frederick wondered just how long it was going to take him to get home.

Did you really think I could kill Frederick off? Shame on you!