A/N: Hello, everybody! Here I am with a new Gilligan's Island Fan Fiction story. This comes from a friendly suggestion from retro maia, who has requested that I write a story based on a few idea suggestions. This is one I decided to take on. This is the idea of criminal activity based primarily on the women of Gilligan's Island, Mary Ann, Ginger, and Mrs. Howell. However, I am taking a different route on this one, by throwing in another crime not tied directly to them...yet, as the story goes on, you will all see and learn how this all links together to all the castwaways. And tie together, it all will. This story is based loosely on an episode from the old Spider-Man TV series, Double Identity. Of course, I own neither of these characters-nor ol' webhead, for that matter. Yet, in answering retro mania's invite, this is how I am going forward. I know my FanFiction comrade, Miss Tara Burgundy, has something going on here with this, already. However, she has, nonetheless, encouraged me to proceed with my version. And thus, here I am. And, yes, the changes will occur as requested, suggested, and asked. In time, that, too, shall all be unfolded as I go along. I am duly ready to launch. Without futher ado, I present...The Castaway Caper. Enjoy!
Every year, the Maui Maritime Society has an annual fundraiser. Its main objective is to operate as a charity to help disadvantaged natives as well as widows and ophans of its members, as well as old Navy, Marine Corps, and Coast Guard pesonnel, who lost their lives in the line of duty. This has been in operation since World War II and is coming off of the 25th Anniversary of Pearl Harbor. This year's fundraising drive was very special.
Ret. Admiral Smedly Williamson, who had been stationed at Pearl Harbor that fateful day, was the chairman of the Maratime Society. He was addressing the audience at its annual end-of-drive fundraising luncheon at the Maui Community Center.
"This year, we managed to raise an all-time record high of $500,000," the admiral said. "The heart of the generosity as displayed by the people of this fine island, this great nation, and those who have served in our Navy, our Marine Corps, and Coast Guard, along with the other branches of our Armed Forces, as well as the people they know and love."
The audience in attendance for this luncheon gave the admiral a rousing, standing ovation. Per tradition, the money was always presented, in cash, at the luncheon prior to its deposit at the bank later that afternoon, as happened at the conclusion of each annual fundraising lunchen. As the audience returned to their collective, respective seats, the admiral, while looking over the room, noticed a pair of familiar notables from his naval days. They were two men: one was an older, husky, large man, with sandy blonde hair, wearing a black captain's hat, khaki pants, a blue polo shirt, and blue crew shoes; the other man was a tall, albeit shorter, lanky younger man with a while floppy sailor's hat, red long sleeved shirt, blue crew pants, and white crew shoes, while carrying a white duffel bag. Granted, these two men had been reported missing for years when the siteseeing charter boat they had operated together, the S.S. Minnow, had disappared on one of their routine three-hour tours. Yet, here they are, in the flesh, present and accounted for, at the annual Maratime Society fundraiser luncheon. Admiral Williamson called them out specifically.
"Well, this day just keeps getting better and better!" the admiral bellowed. "Look who is here! Why, it's one of my oldest, dearest commarades from the Navy, Captain Jonas Grumby, and his first mate, Gilligan! Long time, no see! I thought you two were lost at sea forever! Come on up here and join me at the podium, please!" The crowd applauded and gave the two men a standing ovation. Skipper and Gilligan obliged. The two men came together with the admiral on stage.
"So, tell me, please, how long has it been since you have been back on the island?" the admiral asked.
"Oh, just a few days," Skipper answered. Although no words had formally been given nor news reports, they had managed to make their way back from the island they had been marooned on. When the admiral asked about the others, Skipper had mentioned they all went their seprate ways. "But my little buddy here, and I, did what we could to help everybody stay together. And we did…and here we are now."
"Yes, it sure is great to be here," Gilligan bellowed. The audience applauded.
"Any plans you two have to go forward with your lives now that you are back amongst the rest of us here in society?" Admiral Williamson asked.
"Yes," Skipper said. "We plan on resuming our lives here on the island and go back to offereing the same island tours we have always have."
"Well, that sure is great," the admiral said. "And it has been nice having and seeing you here this afternoon at the Maui Maritime Society fundraiser."
"You are right, admiral. It has been great being here," Gilligan said. The audience applauded Gilligan on his words.
"Yes, it sure has been," Skipper said. "Thank you all very much. And, now, if you will excuse us, we will be taking this fundraising money along with us to help finace our new S.S. Minnow." The audience gasped in shock.
"Excuse me?" the admiral asked, suddenly astonished.
"Yes, we will be taking this money right along with us," Skipper said, with his very present jovial smile. "Little Buddy, will you please do the honors?"
"Aye-aye, sir", Gilligan said, saluting the captain while reaching into his duffle bag to pull out what looked to be a long-range flame thrower, which Gilligan suddenly turned on the audience, firing out a solid, gassy mist which instantly knocked out everyone in the room, inludnig the admiral. All of the gasps suddenly went silent…because everyone in the room had been rendered unconsious.
Everyone—that is, save Gilligan and Skipper.
"Well, little buddy, shall we go?" Skipper asked.
"Yes, Skipper. Lets!", Gilligan said, who replaced the flamethrowing device back into his bag while Skipper helped himself to the cases filled with the contents of the entire $500,000.
Both men walked out of the luncheon otherwise unnoticed or even suspected. And to further make sure no one was going to follow them, Gilligan reached back into the duffel bag to spray some more of this mist into the lobby. Whatever employees who were admist them ended up being knocked out by this mist.
The two men then put the money and the duffel bag into the trunk of a waiting 1966 Cadillac Fleetwood and drove off…with Skipper at the wheel, Gilligan riding shotgun…unsuspected of any and all wrong doing.