First mate's log:

March 10, 1967

There's a witch doctor on the island and I think he's made voodoo dolls of everyone! I got a jab in the neck and he's going after all of us, even the little kids! The Professor doesn't believe it of course, and he says that the native relics I found in a cave are actually Mayan. Mr. Brady pointed out that the Mayans lived in Central America, a long way from the South Pacific, but I guess if we could get here from North America, anything is possible.

And now the Professor has been turned into a zombie! No one knows how to break his trance, although Ginger gave him a heck of a kiss to wake him up, sort of like Snow White's prince.


Carol Martin's diary:

March 11, 1967

I wouldn't have believed this is if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, but there's a witch doctor on the island cursing everyone! The poor children are scratching like they've got the chicken pox and I have terrible cramps and it's not even that time of the month. Mike was skeptical until he couldn't move his right arm, but the Professor kept on scoffing until he was put under some sort of trance. He's conscious and standing up but he can't move. Ginger gave him a passionate kiss yesterday and today performed a "native dance" from one of her movies, but she got no response out of the Professor, although she can break through his ordinary aloofness. (I noticed Mike appreciated her dance, but he's only human of course.)

We left the Professor out in the rain when the dance turned out to be a rain dance instead, a very effective one. Mike said to me, as we watched from his hut with the kids, "There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," which is of course a quote from Hamlet, one that did not make it into the musical version. In this case, "philosophy" means "science," and I knew he was commenting on the strange things that happen on this island that can't be explained by my logic or his, or the Professor's. Alice meanwhile went outside and put a rain poncho over the Professor.


March 12, 1967

Well, I had to put all the Mayan relics back in the cave to try to break the curse, and then I found the voodoo dolls and took them back to camp. The Skipper got the Professor's pocketknife and showed it to him, which somehow turned him back to normal. He had no memory of his trance and wondered why he was damp. I'm going to make a voodoo doll of the witch doctor, in case he bothers us again.


March 20, 1967

Things quieted down for a week or so, after Gilligan restored some native relics to a cave and found the voodoo dolls. Cindy didn't understand why she couldn't play with the dolls. They might be harmless in the hands of a child, but I felt superstitious enough about them to not take any chances.

Mr. Howell has a stomach ache but it's unrelated to the voodoo dolls, which the Skipper put in a toy boat and sent out to sea, as the safest way of getting rid of them. I suppose Mr. Howell could be seasick, but the rest of us, even Alice, are fine. In any case, while the Skipper may be right that Howell is "bellyaching," we are all making condolence calls to cheer him up in his sick bed.


March 21, 1967

Wow, Mr. Howell has put us all in his will! He's sick, not because of voodoo but I think from something he ate, no offense to Mary Ann and Alice. Even though it's only a stomachache, I guess he thought about what would happen if he ever got seriously sick and died on the island. Plus, he's grateful for all the nice things we've done for him over the past almost three years.

He's leaving me an oil well, even though he tried to cheat me with the Tehechapuku Oil and Mining Corporation, but no hard feelings. And it'll be awhile until we get rescued and probably years and years before Mr. Howell dies, so it doesn't really change anything now, except it's a nice thought. We might all throw him a party in thanks when he gets well, and to celebrate Spring, although we don't really have seasons on the island.


March 24, 1967

We're going to have a surprise party for Mr. Howell, who's feeling much better. I know, I know, another surprise party, but this time it won't be a for a birthday. He's put us all in his will. I realize that even if we get rescued, he may live long enough that his offer to pay for the children's college education may not come to anything, but it's still a kind gesture. The Skipper and Gilligan have trapped a wild boar and they're trying to figure out how to kill it. And Alice and Mary Ann are coming up with pork recipes.


March 25, 1967

I'm so sad I can hardly write. For the first time since Mrs. Brady almost three years ago, someone has died on the island. Mr. Howell drowned in quicksand! The funeral is tomorrow. There won't be a reading of the will since we already know what's in it and it's not like we could get all those things right now anyway. And I'd rather have Mr. Howell than some dumb old oil well.


March 26, 1967

Mr. Howell had a Tom Sawyer moment: he attended his own funeral! He thought we were all trying to kill him to get our inheritances, because of the talk about "killing the old boar," which he thought was "bore" or "boor." He faked his own death in quicksand. Then when he heard the nice things we said about him — even Cindy said he was "thuper thweet" — he was really touched. And we're going ahead with the pork barbecue tonight, even though Alice has to put a pineapple instead of an apple in the boar's mouth.