14. Land Ho'

I'm not sure if it was the blinding pain or the waves tugging at my prone body that brought me back to semi-consciousness. Either way, awareness came slowly at first. Pounding in my ears, gritty sand beneath me. Tug and pull of the waves. But most of all, there was pain. I struggled to pull in a deep breath and was rewarded with a hacking-coughing fit for my efforts and lights flashed behind my closed eyelids. Something was broken down there, I was sure of it. When I lifted my upper body up off of the sand to take a look at my surroundings, I was positive.

Completely deserted beach to my right and to my left- I wanted to cry but I'd save that for later. Regardless of the fact that I was soaking wet… I was surely dehydrated and crying would just make that worse. Taking a look at the nearly setting sun, I made a short list of the things that I absolutely needed to do first. Shelter was the most important right now and maybe a first if I could manage it. Considering that I wasn't Suzy Super Survivor, I wasn't too confident in my ability to make a fire by rubbing some sticks together.

With too much effort, I shakily rose to my feet. No time like the present, and no time like before dark. Upon closer inspection I noticed there were random bits of wreckage lining both directions up and down the beach… which wasn't long. Maybe a mile stretch in either direction to scavenge and hopefully collect something useful for what was sure to be a long, lonely night.

I had maybe an hour, hopefully two, before the sun dipped below the horizon. I got to work quickly, wandering up and down the a small stretch sorting through things that might be useful tonight and pulled potential items from the surf to appraise in the fresh light of tomorrow's morning.

As I worked, I worried. I worried for my future- however dismal and bleak it may be. I worried for my boys. Had they survived? Were they still out there, struggling in the waves? I knew where I was and how I was doing. But where were they? How were they doing? I couldn't help but glance out into the endless waves, hoping against hope to see something… someone.

By the time the sun was kissing the water, I had fashioned a make-shift lean-to shelter underneath a couple of bowed trees. It wasn't great but it would work, for tonight. I created a mattress of sorts out of dry shrub, grasses and fallen leaves. Forming supports out of the trees, I dragged large sticks and driftwood up from the beach and constructed a sort of bunker to protect myself from the elements… be they sun or rain. A sparse spattering of leaves formed a flimsy roof. It would go down with a huff and a puff, but I was beat and needed sleep. I would work on reinforcing tomorrow. After laying down the final branch, amidst my aches and pains, I took a moment to appreciate the fact that I had survived. Against all odds, I was alive! I could hardly believe what I had endured over the past few days. In all honesty, I should be dead. I wanted to be ecstatic but I still mourned the loss of my boys. Where were they?

I had gathered a small stockpile of various items from my beach and even found a backpack that had some random clothing and a water bottle (half filled) in it. I'm not sure which one of the boys it belonged to, but it was precious to me. The clothing was going to keep me warm tonight, and the water was going to sustain me until I could find more. Please let me find more and please, let the guys be ok.

I rose from my measly shelter early the next morning. It was light out but the sun still hadn't risen. I slept so soundly, I hadn't dreamt. Usually, after a particularly traumatic day, I'm plagued with nightmares so terrifying I wake sometime in the night screaming and covered in sweat. It was a true testament to my level of exhaustion that I slept so thoroughly.

The morning was so peaceful, the beach so calm, I could almost believe that I was sitting somewhere on the sands of some destination resort. How badly I wished that were true. It was when I needed to use the bathroom that full reality struck. It was the first moment since landing on this god-forsaken beach that I was grateful that the boys weren't here with me. I was sure that they wouldn't let me wander further into the island alone, and peeing with an audience wasn't high on my to-do list.

Quickly, I dashed inland and took care of business. Returning to the beach, I was overcome with the enormous weight of my situation, and sank to the sand. Where were those big girl panties when I needed them? Most likely fish food by now, I'm sure. I gave myself a few moments to wallow, then, it was time to get to work. As I sulked, I planned. Today I needed to accomplish three major things. Priority one, I needed to find fresh water. Two, I needed food and three, I needed to shore up my shelter and possibly try building a fire. Priority one and two were a must. I wouldn't end the day without checking those off my mental list.

I wandered around the island, always keeping my priorities in mind. Water and food. Water and food. I'd emptied the backpack and taken it with me on my trek, filling it with random items I could use later on. So far, I had a few empty plastic water bottles, several plastic bags, a small piece of what looked like sheet metal, about 10 feet of rope and more clothing. I'd gone maybe a mile down the beach when I saw pile of colorful debris in the surf a couple hundred feet down the beach.

My heart rate picked up speed, as well as my feet. Could it be…? I started to run, my backpack bouncing along as I went. As I neared the pile, I could pick out a colorful clump of clothing and a couple suitcases, but that's all it was. My heart deflated- no boys in sight. I stood there, breathing heavy and trying to hold my self together. I couldn't believe that I'd let myself hope. What a cruel thing to do to myself. I dropped the backpack on the dry sand and made my way towards the rubble. Maybe I'd get lucky and there'd be a working cell phone in there somewhere. I chuckled darkly. If you're gonna wish, wish big, right?

Truth be told, I was hoping -praying for one of the boys to wash ashore. It was completely selfish, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that one of them, any one of them, would know what to do. Metaphorically, I was drowning. If one of the boys were to magically show up, I knew that I would survive this. Sure, I was currently enduring… but it hadn't even been a full twenty four hours yet. What about tomorrow? Or the day after that? I continued to drag my find up into the dry sand- away from the grasping fingers of the sea. My dark thoughts persisted, no end in sight.

Scouring through the bags, I found several useful things: a few different magazines, a compass, a little waterproof container of matches, personal hygiene products, two metal mess kits (for if I ever found food), more lengths of different ropes, a first aid kit and an emergency blanket. A couple of the bags looked to have been torn open and emptied in the shallow surf. Using the boys' examples, I tore the broken bags apart and took everything I thought could be useful and packed everything into the one remaining bag. I could always come back later.

I was elated with my find. I'd gotten quite lucky! The mess kits had small pots on them. If I could start a fire, I could boil salt water and create a distillery of sorts for fresh water! Or even try a solar still with the plastic bags. Lucky for the current me, growing up without friends provided me with ample reading time and I loved to learn about all kinds of different things.

Priority number one, check. Working on priority two shouldn't be too hard. I was surrounded by the ocean which is abundant with food. The trick is being able to catch it. Maybe a spear for fishing? Mollusks and seaweed? I'd think more on that later.

Hauling all this stuff back to camp was going to take some time. Pulling a rolling suitcase through the sand is no easy feat. Now that I knew I was going to be ok, I was eager to start work on getting water and food so that I could straighten out my shelter situation.

Back at camp, I organized my haul and got to work gathering fire wood and kindling. It was going to be a busy afternoon and as badly as I wanted to take a nap, I knew I needed to press on. Water was essential and I was going to need it. First, I dug a hole up near the roots of a nearby tree. I made sure to dig far enough that the soil was damp. Then I used the sheet metal machete to cut off the top of one of the plastic water bottles. I placed the bottle in the middle of the hole and then surrounded it with damp foliage from around my camp. Next, I took apart one of the plastic bags and laid it over the hole and then secured the edges of the bag with rocks and sand. Last, I placed a small rock on top of the bag, right in the center, over the bottle. Theory was that the condensation from the damp earth and leaves would gather on the underside of the bag and the weight of the rock would help the water drip down into the cut bottle. I'd never tried this before but definitely had my fingers crossed. If this worked, it was going to help save my life.