J.M.J.
Author's note: Thanks for reading! And thank you to everyone who has left reviews so far! The next chapter will be up tomorrow. God bless!
June 21 – Wednesday
It was a clear night, and the stars began appearing before the sun had been set for long. Tony pointed out the North Star with a greater hopefulness than he had felt yet since the group had been adrift in the small boat.
"The island is to the east, right?" he said. "If we keep the North Star to our left, we'll be headed roughly towards it. We'd have to row a lot more to start heading farther away from the island, at least, as long as we're going in the general direction."
The others agreed to try it, since they had no choice. They took shifts rowing and those who were off-duty, as it were, slept as well as they could. In spite of this, they were all exhausted by the time the first hint of dawn could be seen in the east. They were encouraged, however, to see that the patch of cloud had given way to a fair-sized island. They had steered somewhat too much south during the night, so now they had to turn to the northeast, but at least they had not gotten farther away.
The morning was long, hot, and miserable. They were all too thirsty to speak, and even if they hadn't been, they would have been too tired. That was probably just as well, since none of them were in a mood to say anything pleasant. Their heads pounded miserably and they were beginning to understand why people adrift on rafts or in lifeboats in stories always become tempted to drink the ocean water. It looked so refreshing and cool, but none of them were so far gone yet as to forget that it would only dehydrate them more. Even so, they would frequently scoop up water in their hands and pour it over their heads to try to cool themselves in the heat from the sun. With the breeze blowing over the water, the tactic was effective.
It wasn't until mid-afternoon that they finally reached the island. Even then, they still had to make it in past the breakers. They were too thirsty, tired, miserable, and eager to reach land for their judgment to be at its best. They tried to land on a stretch of yellow sand, but the boat overturned and they had to swim the rest of the way. They all managed to make it to shore, where they threw themselves down in the sand, too miserable even to be grateful.
It was Frank who forced himself up first. He only got to his knees before he had to pause. He had never felt this terrible in his life, but he knew this was no time to simply sit there and feel sorry for himself. He reached for Biff, who was sprawled closest to him, and tapped his foot.
"Come on, guys," he said hoarsely. "We've got to get up and find water."
Biff raised his head slightly. "There's water?" he croaked.
"Hopefully," Frank said. "But we've got to find it. If we don't…"
There were muffled groans from the figures on the beach.
Then Joe picked himself up. "Come on, guys. Frank's right. We didn't go through all that just so we can lie down and die on this beach."
Slowly and with a lot of groans—but very little grumbling, since they were too thirsty—the other boys began picking themselves up. Frank reminded the others that if there were any fresh streams on the island, they would run down to the beach, so following the beach would be the fastest way to find them. They began stumbling along it. Miserable as they all were, Phil was the most miserable as all, with his head injury, but he didn't complain to the others. He hadn't the energy for one thing, and he knew the others weren't much better off, for another.
Much sooner than they had dared hope, they saw a stream running down through some stones beyond the beach. The shoreline became steep and rugged there, and the stream pooled in the stones about fifteen feet above the water. The overflow cascaded down into the ocean below. Frank signaled for the others to wait while he tested the water, taking just one small sip. It tasted all right, so he nodded to the others. They all began eagerly drinking.
"Don't drink too fast," Frank cautioned the others a moment later, after he remembered that point himself.
The boys managed to pace themselves. When they had somewhat slaked their thirst, one by one, they began falling asleep near the pool. For hours, they were practically unconscious.
By the time any of them stirred, it was the middle of the night. Joe was the first to wake up. He almost wished he hadn't. Sleep hadn't refreshed him much, and he felt sick. He continued lying there for a few minutes and then forced himself to sit up. If they were going to survive, they needed more than just water and sleep.
"What are you doing, Joe?" Chet asked.
"We've got to find out if there's any food on this island and any way to get off," Joe replied.
Chet groaned. "How long has it been since we've had anything to eat?"
Joe thought about it. "We were in the boat all day yesterday and then we were on the boat most of the day before, and I don't know about you guys, but Frank and I didn't bother to eat breakfast that day, so the last time I've eaten would have been the beach party. That would have been about forty-eight hours ago."
That elicited another groan from Chet. "I don't know whether I'm starving or not. I don't really feel hungry, just kind of…bleh. Do you think that water was poisonous?"
"No, that's just what happens when you go that long without eating," Joe explained. "Once you start eating a little, you'll start to feel hungry again. Besides, after going so long without food or water and in the sun, none of us are going to be in great shape for a while." Any other time, he might have teased Chet about his love for food, but just now, Joe didn't feel like teasing.
"Have you ever gone this long without eating?" Chet asked after a pause.
"Not quite." Joe thought of the second-longest fast he had been forced to make. He had been kidnapped while working another case and his kidnappers hadn't bothered to give him anything to eat for about thirty-six hours. But that had been better. They had given him water—not plenteous, but enough to stave off dehydration—and his dad had gotten him out, so once he was free, there hadn't been anything more to worry about. This time, they couldn't count on anyone coming to their rescue any time soon.
"Do you think anyone lives on this island?" Chet asked after another pause.
Joe shrugged. "Maybe. Apparently not on this part of the island, though. Even if they don't, I'm sure people come here now and then. I mean…" He trailed off. He really wasn't sure about that at all.
"Aren't there still islands where the people living there have never had any contact with the outside world?" Chet asked.
"There are a few, but the chances that we wound up on one of them are pretty small."
"Yeah, but what if we did and they were suspicious of strangers and we obviously couldn't explain how we wound up here…"
"Then we won't have to worry about finding food," Joe replied as lightly as he could. "Speaking of which, you were interested in botany for a while. Do you think you could identify edible plants here?"
"That was quite a while ago. Besides, I was only interested in plants that grew around Bayport, not tropical plants. The best I could do is identify bananas."
Joe frowned. "Even I could do that. Oh, well, hopefully there are plenty of bananas on this island."
Having had some time to think about it, Joe realized that looking for food in the dark would be a waste of time and energy, and while they would likely have plenty of the former on their hands, they were short on the latter. It would have to wait until morning. They could survive longer than this without food, so it wasn't an emergency. He lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, as did Chet.
