I had just dozed off when I heard a familiar voice shouting in my ear, "Sam! Sam! Wake up!"

"What time is it Al?" I asked the worried looking hologram.

"Its almost midnight, but that's not what's important," Al replied, "Ziggy is now saying there is a 98 percent chance you are here to prevent the castaways from being rescued!"

That really puzzled me. "Prevent? Why? How?" I asked, sure I'd get some answers.

Al went on, "The satellite the Professor thought was Telstar is actually a Russian spy satellite. If he broadcasts his message, the Russians will interpret it as counterespionage. They will then launch a surface to surface missile from a nearby "fishing trawler" which will knock out the antenna, and half the island along with it."

"The half we're on," I muttered rhetorically. "So to save these people, I have to fowl up their rescue attempt?"

Al answered, "Precisely. But since you did such a good job making the professor check his work with your 'questions', the transmitter is in perfect working order. You need to figure out a way to make it not work without arising suspicion."

I agreed, "Yes, this seems like a friendly group… but who knows what they would do with Gilligan if they thought he was a saboteur. I have to think of a way to make this look like an accident, something that won't arouse too much suspicion."

"Good luck," Al said.

I walked over to the antenna. I couldn't do anything very overt, since the Professor was right there.

"Hello Gilligan, why aren't you resting?" The Professor asked once he spotted me.

"Guess I'm too excited about being rescued," I replied.

"I don't blame you," said the Professor. Then the Professor looked somewhat serious, "Like I said earlier, I didn't tell the others about my plan, because I didn't want hopes to get up. It seems every time we get close to getting rescued something happens to prevent that. It would be a shame if that happened again. Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I think so Professor," I replied. He was obviously hinting at the 'bad luck' that seems to go along with Gilligan's 'good luck.' I added, " I think I'm going to go get some rest."

The Professor responded, "That's a good idea, I'm going to try to get a couple hours of sleep myself."

As I went back to my mat, much like a kindergartener at nap time, I had an idea of how to complete my mission without getting Gilligan hung from the nearest palm tree.

I awoke to the sound of the Professor blowing into a gourd. It was still dark out.

"Egads,"cried Mr. Howell, "What time is it?"

The Professor called out, "its 3 a.m. time to make final preparations for our 4:15 signal."

Mr. Howell mumbled, "This is far too early for a Howell."

Al asked me, "Sam do you have a plan?"

I whispered, "Yes, and hopefully Gilligan won't be in too much trouble."

We were all making a final checklist on the equipment we were responsible for. The professor was checking the transmitter and generator. The rest of us were checking the drive trains and cables (vines) on our exercise bikes. To get enough electricity, we were told, we would have to be riding at least a half an hour. We ate a breakfast of abalone (which I'll be happy if I never taste any again) and fruit, while drinking plenty of water to prepare ourselves for our ride. I also made a little special preparation of my own.

At 3:45 the Professor announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, start your bikes." The six of us then started on our tour de nowhere.

I had Al buzzing in my ear, "Saaammmm…."

I said, "Don't worry."

Mary Ann, thinking the comment was for her, chirped, "I'm not worried, I'm confident in the Professor."

Al added, "Unfortunately, so am I."

I countered with, "Every thing's gonna be all right." Again it was meant for Al, but the rest of the group saw it as Gilligan cheering them on.

About 4:00 AM sparks literally began to fly as the generator fired up. I could here the tubes in the transmitter working.

The Professor said, "Not too much longer now."

Al, who was getting annoying, agreed, "You can say that again, bud."

Mr. Howell lamented, "I certainly hope not, I'm actually perspiring. And I was told since I was a boy that Howell's don't do that."

Ginger scolded, "Quiet Mr. Howell, if the Professor's plan works we'll be off the island."

Al, never far from Ginger, said, "She's part right, if he succeeds they'll be off the island, as well as scattered all over the island."

"That's enough!" I shouted to Al, but everybody else thought it was directed to them.

The Skipper once again came to my aid, "Gilligan's right, lets quit the chatter and give the professor more power."

The Professor called out, "Here we go!"

Al put his fingers in his ears.

We really started humming along on the bikes. I prepared myself for only what I knew was going to happen next. Just as the professor was going to start sending the message, my stationary bike "accidentally" broke free. I yelled for courage as I sped towards the transmitter tower, my wooden wheels crunching abalone shells along the way.

I prepared myself as best I could for impact, to avoid breaking any of Gilligan's bones. Nonetheless, I hit the tower hard, and I felt it, but I managed to avoid seriously injuring myself/Gilligan. Just as I heard the others shouting, I saw the transmitter tower safely fall away from the others. I also felt the familiar feeling as I leaped out of the life of Willie Gilligan, knowing full well the message was never transmitted.