Sunday 20 December 2015

#131 Searching for food

The first island that we came across was indeed that, in every sense. Not more than a few thousand feet or so by a few thousand. No obvious sign of any fresh water supply and no long-term source of food. The lads tumbled ashore, exhausted. Pete the deck hand started sharpening his knife. I knew what he was up to but ventured asking him regardless. "What the fuck are you hoping to catch with that Pete?" He paused only to look defiantly at me with what he supposed was a cool, wise sort of gaze and went right back to sharpening. I loved it.

If you've never slept under an upturned lifeboat then you're really quite lucky. I haven't either. We dragged the canvas off of the vessel's seating, having figured that it might make quite an ingenious quilt. Not the most relaxing place in the world to spend a night but it'd do us for now. So we dragged the great thing inland and down behind a slight mound of grass where some tall trees stood. We then heaved the boat up against the trees as a partial windbreak.

"Back later" announced Pete, almost proudly, as he wandered purposefully towards the far side of the island. I knew he fancied himself a hunter but was now really the best time to be trying his luck? Exhausted from the events of the last twenty four hours, probably still in shock and clearly in need of some sleep. What the hell did he think he could find here anyway? I got under the canvas and shuffled uncomfortably on my jacket slash bed sheet. It was time to try getting some sleep.

No comments