First mate's log:

February 2, 1966

Wow, after listening to the radio so much last month (I stopped being one when lightning from the typhoon hit me), I didn't expect what happened when I turned the radio off today. Mr. Howell and the Skipper thought it was still on because we could still hear the Mosquitoes. It turned out to be the actual band, live and in person!

A helicopter dropped them off and will come back for them in a month. On the one hand, that's sooner than we expected to be rescued. (No word on our movie, and the Russians left us behind because I accidentally set my watch to a Manila radio station, so the Skipper and I didn't get back to the lagoon in time.) On the other hand, it feels like a long time to wait when the Mosquitoes could just have their pilot come back early.

I don't mind as much as most of the others do. The band is here to take a break from tours and recording and stuff, but they've agreed to free daily concerts if we'll feed them and stuff. They brought some canned stuff and a can opener, but they picked the island sort of at random and didn't know what kind of fruit and fish and stuff there'd be. They didn't expect the island to be inhabited either, but they don't mind us being here, and Bingo said he's just glad we're not cannibals.

Mary Ann has offered to do their laundry and make their beds, but they're sleeping in a tent with sleeping bags. She is as big a Mosquitoes fan as I am, so she's as excited about the free concerts as I am. She told me she's never heard live music before, except at county fairs. Rock and roll groups never come near Horner's Corners and her aunt and uncle wouldn't let her go see the Beatles when they played in Kansas City. I've gone to concerts around the world but usually I can't see or hear much. Still the energy of the musicians and fans is always exciting. I've promised I'll take her to a real concert when we get back to America. Not a date, just, you know, as friends.

Carol Martin's diary:

February 4, 1966

We might be rescued by a flock of Mosquitoes! That is, the rock and roll band the Mosquitoes are staying on our island for a month and have promised to rescue us. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I don't know if I can stand a month of their concerts. I know it's meant to be a treat, and it would be rude not to attend, especially when my daughters want to go, even little Cindy, who's hardly more than a baby. It's just really not my type of music, and it seems louder and yet more mumbly than I remember pop music being even a couple years ago.

When Gilligan said that the band is here for quiet and relaxation, the Skipper suggested we be as noisy and annoying as possible, so the musicians will want to leave early. The children of course are thrilled about this scheme. In fact, I had to take a break from them, so it seemed a good time to update you.

February 5, 1966

We tried to bug the Mosquitoes so much that they would want to leave early, but instead now they want to stay two months, just to relax enough, as long as we promise not to disturb them so much. So our new plan is that us men are going to form a band, because that way the Mosquitoes will feel more at home. We have to make instruments, sort of like with the orkestrah but not as many and different. I get to play drums again though.

February 7, 1966

Well, the plan to tick off the Mosquitoes didn't work. Neither did either of the other two plans.

First the men formed a rock and roll quintet, so the musicians would relate to them. Unfortunately, the "Gnats" were so dreadful that even the Mosquitoes were disgusted by them.

Then Greg and Marcia suggested the five women form a "girl group."

"Ginger is a really groovy singer," Greg said.

"So's my mom," Marcia said loyally.

The other women don't have as much singing experience, but they agreed to try when Ginger said they couldn't be any worse than the men. And it was more fun with all of us. We called ourselves the Honeybees and wore slacks, turtlenecks, and bee brooches. We didn't play any instruments but Mary Ann had brought along an instrumental on a 45 single she'd bought before boarding the Minnow. We each wrote our own verse for a song we called "You Need Us."

Alice's verse was definitely the funniest:

"You need me, you need me

Like the Navy needs the fleet,

Like a blanket needs a sheet,

Like a butcher needs some meat,

You need me."

The Mosquitoes were charmed by the whole act. I guess we were too good though, because the Mosquitoes saw us as a threat. They left early, explaining their departure in a note.

February 20, 1966

I feel really sad. Even the album the Mosquitoes left us doesn't cheer me up. They left us behind, which I'm getting used to, but, unlike most of our visitors, they gave us a gift. It's a recording of them at Carnegie Hall and it's really good. But I keep thinking about what the Professor told me.

He said he's working on a cure for someone in the island who's very sick. He wouldn't say who it is, but I think I know. I saw Mrs. Martin crying in the jungle when she probably thought nobody else was around. I think either she's sick or one of her little girls is. Either way, it's very sad.

February 21, 1966

Yesterday I thought Gilligan was dying! The Professor said that Gilligan was bitten by a deadly insect called the Mantis Carni. The worst part was the poor boy didn't know he had only 24 hours to live. The Professor didn't want to tell him until he made the serum that he needed people to find ingredients for.

I went into the jungle to gather papaya roots and I couldn't stop thinking about how much the children would miss him. How much we would all miss him. And how young he is.

I started crying, thinking I was alone. After awhile though, someone asked what was upsetting me. I looked up and saw Mike. He sat next to me on the boulder I was perched on and listened while I told him what the Professor said.

He hesitated before saying, "Look, I have tremendous intellectual respect for Roy." Mike is the only one of us that calls everyone except the Howells by their first name. "But you know he isn't infallible. "

I nodded, thinking of our unsunken island. Then I sighed and asked, "What if he's right this time?"

"I'll help gather papaya roots."

By the time we got back, several people were bitten by the same insect! But today the Professor said he'd made a mistake and it was a completely different bug than the Mantis Carni. I was, well, bugged by his mistake, but I know he means well. And of course I was relieved that no one was going to die.

Obviously, Mike and I try to shield our children from things as much as we can, but it isn't easy.