October 31, 1964
Carol Martin's diary:
We celebrated Halloween, although we had to get very creative about the costumes, since most of us didn't pack very many clothes. The Howells, who do have generous streaks, she especially, loaned some clothing to us, even to the children. We used berry juice for make-up. We didn't have candy, but Mary Ann and Alice made taffy and cookies, and the children were happy enough with that.
Our costumes: Mr. and Mrs. Howell as hobos, the Skipper as a cowboy, Gilligan as a native, the Professor as a movie star, Ginger as a nurse, Mary Ann as a little old lady, Alice as a clown, Mike as a judge, Greg as a Beatle, Marcia as a princess, Peter as a fireman, Jan as a witch, Bobby as a puppy (wearing Mrs. Howell's furs), and Cindy as a flower. Oh, and I dressed as an opera singer. I do like to sing, although not opera. But it was fun to dress up with the horned helmet and the long braided wig and everything.
November 4, 1964
First mate's log:
We had a fun Halloween this weekend, but now everyone, except the kids, is feeling more serious because yesterday was Election Day, and we didn't make it home in time to vote. Well, Mary Ann and I are both too young to vote, since I'm 20 and she's 19. But the other adults wish that they hadn't had to follow the campaign at a distance.
And then today Mr. Howell and the Skipper had one of their arguments about who's running the island, but this time the Professor said no one is. Ginger thinks we should hold an election to see who'll be president of the island. I'm glad I'm too young to vote. The Skipper is my boss and my best friend, but I like Mr. Howell, too, and I don't like having to take sides.
November 4, 1964
Well, none of us got to decide between Johnson and Goldwater, but now it looks like we have to decide between Grumby and Howell. The Skipper and the millionaire sometimes argue over who's in charge. The Skipper obviously is used to being in command at sea, but Mr. Howell has run several corporations. So Ginger suggested an election. The thing is, I don't want either man running the island. The Skipper has a short fuse and Mr. Howell is lazy. I'd much rather vote for someone even-tempered and hard-working, like Mike Brady.
I think I'll do a write-in vote for Mike. That way I can vote my conscience, even though he won't win. The Professor is converting the shower stall to a voting booth and we'll vote after he's done.
November 5, 1964
I'm President of the island! And I didn't even want to vote. When I said I was too young, the Professor said that the voting age on the island would be 18 instead of 21, so both Mary Ann and I could vote. But I just pretended to. First I faked an accident. Well, I mean it really happened, but not accidentally. I was supposed to draw the curtains on the voting booth, but I pulled the wrong string and got doused with water. That distracted everyone and no one noticed that I didn't actually fill out a ballot. Well, not until the Professor counted the votes.
First there were was a vote each for the candidates. They obviously voted for themselves. Then there was another vote each for them. I think the Professor voted for the Skipper, because I know he admires the Skipper more than he admires Mr. Howell. I wasn't sure who the other vote for Mr. Howell was though. I figured his wife would vote for him, but I think he bribed Ginger, promising to help her career. She tried to get me to vote for him. She was acting real seductive, and she had me backed up against a palm tree. I got so nervous I hit my head on the tree and knocked myself out. She was gone by the time I woke up. I should've just told her I wasn't going to vote, but that might not have stopped her.
Anyway, after those first four votes, the counting got complicated. There was a vote for me! And from the way Mary Ann was smiling at me, I had the feeling it was her vote. I wonder why she picked me, especially over two experienced leaders like Mr. Howell and the Skipper. And I didn't even know we were allowing write-in votes. But she had rubbed me with a towel after I got soaked, so I guess she likes me.
Then there was another write-in vote, for Mr. Brady! It was easy to figure out that it was from Alice, because she has a face like mine, where you can always tell what the person is thinking. It made sense for her to vote for her boss, and he would make a good leader I guess. I kind of wished I had thought of voting for him, but like I said, I didn't know we were allowed write-ins. Plus, the Skipper probably would've been mad if I voted for someone instead of him.
Then there was another vote for Mr. Brady, who looked a little embarrassed and said, "Well, I have some ideas about structures I'd like to see us build, and I figured that being President would allow me to move these projects forward."
So now there was a three-way tie, with two votes left to count. But Mrs. Howell would have to vote for her husband, right? I wasn't sure how Mrs. Martin would vote, but unless she voted for Mr. Howell, too, there would be a two-way tie, Mr. Howell and either the Skipper or Mr. Brady.
Then I got another vote! It turns out that Mrs. Howell wanted her husband to have time to finally take a honeymoon. I don't know where they'd have it though, on the other side of the island? She probably didn't realize that Mary Ann would write me in, too. So now it was a four-way tie!
"So with two more votes left—" The Professor looked all over the table. "One of the ballots is missing! We should've had ten total."
"I voted," Mrs. Martin said.
Then everyone looked at me and said, "Gilligan!"
"Well, I didn't want to have to play favorites."
That didn't make the Skipper or Mr. Howell any happier.
"Who did Mrs. Martin vote for?" Mary Ann asked.
The Professor unfolded the piece of paper and said, "Mike Brady."
Mr. Brady looked very surprised, but he wasn't the only one.
"Now you have to vote, Gilligan!" the Skipper shouted.
"Yes, My Boy, who do you want to tie with the architect?"
"How do you know he won't vote for me?" Mr. Brady asked.
I was afraid they'd get into a three-way argument. And even though I think they'd all make good leaders in different ways, I thought it should be someone who got along with everyone. "Can I vote for myself?"
The three candidates looked at me like I was crazy, even though they'd voted for themselves. But the Professor said, "Yes, if you think you'd make the best leader."
"OK, another write-in for me."
"Now it's a two-way tie between Mr. Brady and Gilligan," Alice pointed out.
"I guess we'll have to do a run-off," Mr. Brady said.
"A run-off? But I just got dry from the shower!" I objected.
The Professor explained that this would be another election, between the top two candidates. I didn't know if I wanted to go through this again. And if the six people who voted for me and Mr. Brady voted the same way again, how would the other four vote? Would Ginger vote for me or was she just flirting with me earlier to change my vote? The Professor would probably vote for Mr. Brady, since they're a lot alike, putting their brains ahead of their emotions. But Mr. Howell and the Skipper? Would they be mad at me for not voting for them? Well, maybe the Skipper would forgive me, but Mr. Howell would probably vote for Mr. Brady. And then we'd have another tie.
And then Greg and Marcia came over. The kids had been over at the little playground that we've built for them, with a sandbox, swings, a slide, and a seesaw. They sometimes play on the beach, but this is closer and safer, someplace they can be outdoors on their own.
Greg said, "We've been talking it over and we think we should be able to vote."
"What? All six of you?" Mrs. Howell said. "Even the infants?"
"No, just me and Marcia because we're the only ones old enough to read and write."
"You want us to lower the voting age from 18 to 7?" the Professor asked.
"Well, Sir, you need a tie-breaker, don't you?" Marcia said.
"I don't mind the kids voting," Mr. Brady said with a smile. Of course he must've figured his son would vote for him, and maybe he thought Marcia would, too. But what if she voted for me? Then we'd still need a tie-breaker.
"Uh, I guess it's OK," I said. Maybe five-year-old Peter Brady could be taught to write an X, and then he'd vote for his dad and this election would be over. I wouldn't mind losing to Mr. Brady. He'd make a better President than the Skipper or Mr. Howell anyway.
"Let me get you some ballots," the Professor said.
To save time, the two kids didn't use the voting booth. They just went to their own huts and wrote out their candidates' names. Then they came back and handed the slips of paper to the Professor.
He opened the first one and I could see it said "Gilligan," with circles over the I's. Probably Marcia's ballot. So we'd probably have to do the tie-breaker.
And then the Professor opened the other ballot and it said "Gilligan," too!
"I'm sorry, Dad," Greg said, "but it's like Mrs. Howell said about her husband."
"You want me to go on a honeymoon?"
"No, but the stuff about being so busy. If you were President, you might be too busy to play ball and teach and everything. Peter and I talked about it and we want you to just be our dad, and an ark'teck."
Mr. Brady looked happy that his sons wanted so much of his time.
Then Mary Ann kissed my cheek. "Congratulations, Gilligan!" And that's when it really sunk in. I'm President of the island!
November 5, 1964
I still can't believe it. Gilligan was elected yesterday! I can see Mary Ann voting for him. As she put it, Gilligan is her man, and I knew she didn't just mean as a candidate. But that he could win other votes, including my own daughter's, I just can't believe.
He wanted help building a well, which is admittedly an important project, but I obviously couldn't help him, and everyone else was too busy. He got so mad at everyone that he threw down his shovel and accidentally hit a spring. Yes, at least some of his accidents are lucky ones. But I still don't think he should be President. And now he wants to build a lookout tower.
November 15, 1964
I had to resign as President. No one would listen to me. Besides, I ended up doing more work when I was in charge than when I was following someone else's orders.