June 26, 1964
First mate's log:
Wow, we've landed on an uncharted tropical island! I really landed on it because when I woke up I didn't see the Skipper so I yelled, "Man overboard!" and jumped off the ship to save him. I got a face full of sand. The Minnow had run aground, with a lot of damage, although all the passengers fortunately are safe.
No one, not even the Skipper, knows where we are. We are able to get in a radio signal and we heard a report about all of us being missing. I hope someone sends a search party and doesn't just think we're all dead. After all, the Howells are very rich, so I bet they'd be missed. And Ginger Grant maybe, too. Oh, and poor Mrs. Martin's husband is back home, so he must be worried. The Brady family at least is all together. I haven't seen my family in awhile, but I bet they're wondering where I am.
The transmitter broke and the Professor (that's what we're all calling him, although his real name is Roy Hinkley) tried to fix it. But then I accidentally hooked the radio and the transmitter when I was fishing. So two fish swallowed them, but then I caught both fish later, so it worked out OK.
A plane did fly overhead, but I don't know if it was a search plane. We tried to spell out "HELP" with fish but they didn't see it.
We're sleeping on the boat tonight, even though it's kind of crowded. The Bradys, Martins, and Howells will sleep downstairs, and the other five of us on the deck. At least it's not raining anymore. If we stay here another few days, we'll probably have to build some kind of shelter.
June 28, 1964
Carol Martin's diary:
We're all alive and well. I try to remember that and not think about the damage to the ship and the uncertainty of when we'll be rescued from wherever we are, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Yesterday, the men built a raft and sent the Skipper and Gilligan out on it. I hope someone will spot them and come for the rest of us.
Meanwhile, we fifteen passengers are making the best of things in their absence. Mr. Brady is an architect and he's designing a hut for all of us to stay in, if we end up having to stay a few weeks. We can't sleep on the boat indefinitely. I have mixed feelings about a communal hut. Yes, it could be built much more quickly than five separate huts (one for the single men, one for the single women, one for the Howells, one for the Bradys, and one for me and my girls), and perhaps it would be best to stick together early on, especially before we know the dangers of the island. (It seems to be uninhabited, but there are jungles and caves, so who knows who or how many could've landed here before us.)
On the other hand, tempers might be short if we're living in cramped quarters, all these strangers from different backgrounds. Also, much as I love my children, I'm sure it's irritating for the childless people to have to constantly put up with them, not to mention the three Brady boys. I feel guilty when Cindy cries, and I'm sure Barbara Brady feels the same when her Bobby does.
I think she and I will become friends if we are here awhile, since I obviously have the most in common with her. She's a very pretty brunette but quiet and reflectful. Her husband is more of a talker, and sometimes he seems to lecture as much as the professor does, but not so much providing information as opinion. He seems reasonable and intelligent, but I could see him getting on my nerves if I had to share a house with him for very long.
I will say this for him, he's a good fisherman, even better than Gilligan, since he hasn't used the radio or transmitter as bait. Luckily, they were recovered. Unluckily, the transmitter doesn't work and the Professor hasn't been able to fix it.
Anyway, Mike Brady has caught enough fish to get us through today and tomorrow. The Professor has identified some of the plants that are safe to eat, but it will take a long time till he's sure about all of them. At least we won't starve on this island, however long we're here.
There is of course no baby food, but I was able to mush up some bananas for Cindy, and she seemed to like them. Most of the cooking is done by Mary Ann, the young Kansas girl, and the Bradys' maid, Alice. Barbara and I help a little with the food, but our children keep us busy, caring for them, keeping them occupied and out of trouble. I don't think either Mrs. Howell or Ginger Grant can cook, but that's not really surprising.
I miss Tim and hope that he's not too worried about us. The radio reports suggest that no one knows where to begin looking for us. I hope the Skipper and Gilligan can make contact with someone nonetheless.
June 30, 1964
Well, that didn't work out too well. Sorry I couldn't update you while the Skipper and I were on the raft, but I was only supposed to take essentials. Plus, I figured I wouldn't have any privacy to write with the Skipper right there the whole time.
We were out there for three days, and then a shark attacked! The raft sank and we swam to shore. We didn't realize it was the same island we left, and the Skipper was worried about Marubi headhunters. But it was just the passengers, who were hiding in a cave because they were scared of us. I ended up trapping everyone in the cave by causing an avalanche. We had to dig our way out. I dressed as a Marubi, so they wouldn't yell at me. It scared them, but then they figured it out. The Skipper said he would put me in the stockade, if we had built a stockade, and if he didn't need me to work.
We are going to build a hut, a great big hut for everyone, since it looks like we won't be rescued for awhile. Mr. Brady is designing it. And guess who's going to be doing a lot of what Mr. Howell calls "manual labor"? Yep, me. So I've got to go.
