Bum's Rush

While that was cooking, we found more bamboo and other straight poles that we could use for the construction of the shelter.

I wanted four straight palm trees - close together - like bedposts - that we could use to build a nice treehouse. Apparently, that's really hard to find.

I found two straight trees - about eight feet apart - and decided to work with that.

I had planned to use the boat as the roof - especially after nearly getting knocked out earlier - but I decided that I still needed to keep the thing in reserve - as a basin for storing rainwater - which - should come every three or four days - and would significantly improve our quality of life. At that point, our only source of fluids was the coconuts.

My revised plan was: a four-foot-wide hardened roof - about nine feet off of the ground - with Meg's hammock suspended three feet below that - and mine suspended about three feet below hers - which should still leave me at a couple feet off of the sand.

We would try draping the mosquito netting half over Meg's bed and then half down over mine. We might have to cut it, but I'd prefer to avoid that.

We had worked on a couple of different ideas for how to keep the crabs from climbing up our support trees but - so far - we hadn't come up with something we thought would work.

Hopefully the little shits wouldn't be able to tight-rope walk across our hammock ties to join us in our snug little beds.

I used some Hibiscus bark to tie two 8-foot poles together with bands about a foot apart.

I used the bands as steps and climbed up to start working on my roof pieces.

I ended up building everything on the ground. I laid out the roof on two poles that fit between the support-trees - and then Meg and I used two long, thin poles to push the roof into place.

She steadied it while I quickly tethered it to the support trees at each end and then climbed up and added stronger tethers just under the roof.

Once the Hibiscus-bark lashings were all in place, we hung the hammocks up and tested it out.

The problem with this layout was that Meg couldn't reach (or leave) her hammock without my help.

She climbed up my hips & shoulders while I held her hammock still - and then she climbed inside.

When she needed to leave, we reversed the process.

At that point, it worked well enough - but we would eventually ..

Eventually, I planned to search until I found the four (or five) trees laid out the way I wanted - and I'd build the world's best treehouse.

We finally remembered we'd left the fish on the fire - and returned to the pot to find a chowder that wasn't horrible. It could've used a little seasoning but I didn't feel adding sea-brine to the mixture was a good idea and we didn't have a lot of other choices.

Low hydration - and rationed meals - meant we weren't as productive as we normally would be - but - overall - I was pretty happy with how the day had gone.

We added some sticks to the fire and sat - side by side - watching the waves in the lagoon, as the sun set.

There was a little breeze - that might mean we'd get a morning shower.

I realized I hadn't accounted for rain in my design and used the last bit of daylight to tie para-cord to the corners of the tarp, throw it up over the hardened roof, and then staked the lines out to give us (or at least Meg) a little protection from the rain.

We pulled the dinghy into a small clearing in the palm trees and then realized we needed to do something with our packs.

We ended up just zipping them closed and laying them under my "bunk".

We each took a turn at the pee-tree and then I held onto Meg's hammock and braced myself for her to climb my body to her bed.

I felt a hand on my cheeks and weathered lips touching mine.

It wasn't a husband & wife kiss - but it was a little more than the peck between a brother & sister.

"I love you. Thank you for being so calm and making all of this shit work. I was sure I'd be losing my mind by now and I'm not even worried. I'm hot, I'm tired - fuck - I'm exhausted - but this is almost fun. You're doing a fabulous job."

"It's going to rain and our packs are going to be soaked."

"It'll be fine. I have full confidence in you. Just get some rest. You're going to try to do even more tomorrow than you did today - I know you are. You don't need to push so hard. I thought we'd be dead by now. Go to sleep. I love you."

She gave me another kiss, a hug that told me I was her life-saver, and then she walked around behind me and climbed up my body - into her hammock.

As soon as she was settled - and had the mosquito netting in place - I draped it over my bunk, climbed into my luxurious bed and - despite the heat - immediately fell asleep.

Day 2

I awoke to moisture misting my face. The light breeze was throwing a little of the early morning rain under the edge of the tarp - onto the mosquito netting - which was, then, misting down over me.

Although I wasn't dry, I was drier than I would be if I climbed out from under the tarp - so I stayed where I was - and listened to the rain patter against our roof and stream down the sides.

"You awake?" I heard Megan ask.

"Yeah."

"I really have to pee but I don't want to get up. Are you getting wet down there?"

"A little - just a mist though."

"It's perfect up here. I slept so good. You did an amazing job. If this rain, falling on the tarp, wasn't making my bladder feel like it was going to explode, I could just lie here all day."

"Climb down, we'll run and pee, and then we'll come back. Hopefully, we won't get that wet."

"You realize there's no way we're going to be just a little wet, right?"

"Probably."

"Aaagh! I have to pee so bad!" she groaned. "Fine. Will you help me down, big brother?"

"Yes, little sister."

"I love you, you big bully."

"I've never bullied you," I countered.

"Whatever! Help me down before I piss myself."

I climbed out of my reasonably-dry cot to find our packs were getting spray and drips from the tarp. I hoisted them into my hammock and, then, helped my grumbling sibling climb down so she could go take care of her morning absolutions. She was pretty wet by the time she returned and was ready to climb back into her cot.

At that point, I was already pretty wet. I traded my long-sleeve shirt for a quick-dry one - and my pants for my swim trunks.

I visited the pee-tree and then decided I could use a bath - and the rain would get the sand & salt off when I was done.

I grabbed the hammock-net and headed for the lagoon.

I left my net and shirt on the shore and dove in, surfaced, and then scrubbed some of the matted sweat from my hair & body.

I put my shirt back on and waded into the light surf, casting the hammock out whenever I saw a fish or two.

I'm not proficient with the net yet - and it needs some weights around the edges - but I ended up with four hand-sized fish without too much effort.

On the way back to the "bunkhouse", I found a couple more good plastic bottles washed up on the shore and added them to our collection.

The dinghy had a few inches of water in the bottom so I started filling the empty bottles we had picked out as water bottles.

The ones that were in worse condition were still kept around. We would find a use for them.

One idea I had was to use them like shingles - but that would take hundreds - and we didn't have that many.

A few palm branches had come down in the rain so I gathered them in one place.

My fire was dead - and my stack of firewood was now sitting in a puddle of rainwater - so it would be a while before we could cook the fish.

I planned to use the palm branches as thatching on a storage shed for firewood and other stuff we'd prefer stayed off the ground and reasonably dry.

Today was not the day to build - but I could gather all of the pieces and get them organized.

I did that for an hour or so before I was tired from not having eaten anything.

I went back to the bunkhouse to find Meg sleeping.

I shoved her pack above my head, climbed into my hammock, and wrapped my legs around my pack - leaving it sitting between my knees.

It wasn't super-comfortable but I could rest - and I needed a nap.

A couple hours later, I woke up to find that the rain had stopped and somebody had turned on the sauna.

The earlier cool rain - and the "bath" in the lagoon were erased by the steamy heat we now found ourselves in.

I cleaned the fish and dumped the detritus into an empty milk-jug that we'd cut damaged parts out of to make a kind of pitcher.

I left the fish on the leaves I'd been using to keep them off the ground and went to bury the mess down the beach.

I'd just started to walk out through the bushes that protected most of our campsite from the lagoon when I heard a boat approaching.

In seconds, Megan came up next to me. She had a small pair of field-glasses in her hand. We ducked into the wall of bushes and she eased a branch to the side to get a look at our visitors.

"It's the boat that dropped us off," she reported. "They are untying a lifeboat."

Escape

I dumped out the contents of my pitcher in the bushes and we headed back to the bunkhouse.

I threw the fish into the sullied container and set it to the side.

We yanked our packs out of my "bunk" and put them with the fish.

We gathered and stowed our hammocks.

I untied the tethers on the tarp and pulled it down, hurriedly folding it for travel.

We grabbed whatever tools we'd left out and threw them into our bags.

We filled the good water bottles and hooked them to our packs.

The reclaimed plastic bottles that were also being used for drinking water were gathered up. I partially unfolded the tarp - so that it made kind of a sack - and we threw the bottles in there.

I slung the thing over my shoulder and we quickly looked around the space for anything we'd missed.

Meg was looking scared but had her hatchet in her hand.

My hands were full - carrying Santa's bundle of water bottles - so I headed down the path of our breadcrumb-trail of sticks.

She grabbed the pitcher of fish and followed me.

Since I knew the stick-trail was fairly clear, I moved quickly along it until I reached the point where we had turned around to go back to camp.

Assuming it had been mid-morning when we'd started, it was a little after lunch by now.

Not knowing how long the men had taken to explore our campsite before deciding whether or not to track us, we kept moving - despite fatigue starting to set in from lack of food.

We took drinks from the bottles in my tarp-bag, returned the empties to the pack, and kept moving.

Meg offered to take a turn carrying but I insisted on sticking with what seemed to be working for now.

Once we passed the end of what we'd already explored, I let her take the lead.

We weren't talking - just communicating with hand-signals - and moving as quickly as we could - ears straining to hear any noise behind us.

I really don't know how long we kept on. I know I was tired - my heart was pounding in my ears.

I swore I could hear voices behind me but my body hurt so badly that I couldn't risk turning to look because I'd probably just fall over.

Meg looked behind me a couple of times - so I assumed she was hearing the same things I was.

That only made my heart pound harder.

We broke through the trees and found a worn path leading off at a slight angle to the right of the way we'd already been traveling.

Without stopping to ask, Meg took off at a faster pace.

I tried to jog to keep up, but I was quickly running out of juice.

We'd gone - I don't know - probably another half-mile when the path curved around a bend - and we found a collection of thatched huts.

Each hut was elevated above the ground's surface by about three feet. This would allow them to avoid problems with pests - like the crabs - but also help avoid problems with storm-surge.

We passed a couple of the rough structures, still following the path, when inquisitive faces started appearing among the huts.

Meg stuck the handle of her hatchet into the back of her loose pants and moved forward with her hands raised.

A good distance ahead, I could see a central campfire and a handful of people - younger women cooking, older women weaving, older men smoking, and younger men talking in small groups.

With hands still raised in surrender, Meg approached until she was 20 feet from the elders and then dropped to her knees - never lowering her hands.

Still bearing my burden, I knelt beside her, and lowered my head.

I didn't look up, but lots of feet quietly gathered around us - feet made up of all of the groups of individuals that we had observed as we came in.

A younger male barked or coughed - which must have been a warning - because all of those feet - almost at the same time - turned to face somebody approaching behind us.

I dropped the tarp, pulled my pack off, and fumbled around until I found the mattock.

Meg set the fish down, eased her pack off, and stood to her feet, taking her hatchet back in-hand, turning to face our pursuers.

As soon as I had the pick in my hand, I stood next to her.

We didn't see the captain of the boat anywhere but the three guys who were slowly approaching were definitely from the crew that had dumped us off.

Meg firmed the grip she had on her weapon and took a step forward. I twisted the pick until the business-end was facing the men and then stepped up beside her.

The first guy had a pistol; the other two had spear-guns.

That eliminated any ideas we might have had that they were just stopping by for a social visit.

Suddenly, one of the tribe's young men stepped up on Megan's left and another stepped up on my right.

The guy with the pistol held his hands up - but kept a firm grip on the gun; the other two stayed at the ready - weapons pointed at the ground.

An elder stepped up on the other side of Megan's protector and held up a hand - palm out - to tell the men to stop.

The lead crewman left the gun raised but pointed to the two of us with his other hand.

The old man stepped in front of Megan and crossed his hands over his chest. He shook his head at the man.

The crewman looked, hard, at the old man and then pointed his pistol at him.

In seconds, there was a wall of bodies in front of us.

The members of this flash-mob had not been visible to me when we came into camp but there were now at least 50 young warriors standing between us (or the old man) and the boat crew.

Each warrior had a spear in one hand - the butt still sitting on the ground - and a sling & knife strapped to their waist.

I studied the blades. There were a few bone knives - but most appeared to be flint or volcanic stone. All were crude - but they still looked sharp.

The heads of a few of the spears were just fire-hardened wood - but most had stone or bone points.

Apparently deciding that whatever he'd hoped to gain by coming after us was lost to them, the head crewman lowered his gun and wordlessly cut between the two spear-men to head back along the path we'd come in on.

Everyone in our group stayed in place as the other two men first glared at our party and then turned to follow their leader.

Once they were past the bend, the young men turned and looked to the elder.

He signed, to the group, that four warriors should follow the men and make sure they weren't circling back to cause problems.

One young man stepped forward and three of his friends joined him.

The leader nodded his approval and they marched down the path.

The rest of the warriors stepped back so that the chief was left alone with Meg and me.

I dropped to my knees and held the mattock across my open palms, offering it to our savior; Meg did the same thing with the hatchet.

The old man picked up my tool and studied it. When he was finished, he put it back in my hands. He did the same thing with Meg's.

I pushed my palms up & out - to clarify that I was offering it to him - and he shook his head "no".

He took the mattock in one hand and the hatchet in the other - and then handed them back to each of us.

Meg went and got the pitcher of fish; I went and grabbed some plastic bottles from my tarp-bag.

We returned to our places in front of him, kneeling again, and offered these as gifts.

He looked at the reclaimed milk jug - and then at the contents.

He signaled for one of the older women to come over - and then handed the container to her.

She nodded, took the jug, and headed off.

He took one of the plastic bottles from my hand and held it up, looking at me with raised eyebrows.

I took one I still held, unscrewed the lid, and poured the water into my open mouth.

He opened the one he had and took a small drink - then made a little face - probably from the slight plastic taste of the contents.

He signed for a young woman to come over.

She brought a skin bladder filled with liquid. She handed it to him.

He offered it to me, indicating that I should drink.

I took it and drank. There was a little "flavor" to it - but the water was cool and refreshing.

The chief indicated that I should give Megan a drink as well - so I passed it to her.

When she had finished, he took it from her hands and took a drink himself - then handed it back to the girl.

The chief indicated that we should stand up - so we did.

Villagers

When we were both on our feet, he stepped up to me, licked his thumb, and smeared the fluid on my forehead in a short stripe from my hairline to the bridge of my nose. He did the same thing with Megan.

At that point, Meg and I were separated a little as every villager gathered around.

What looked like every female in the vicinity came and gave Meg a hug.

Meanwhile, the chief extended his hand & arm towards me.

At first, I thought we were going to shake hands - which seemed kind of weird.

However, he reached in, grabbed the inside of my forearm in his fingers, and waited until I did the same.

He released his hold and stepped back.

One by one, each of the men - old and young - came up to me and repeated the gesture.

When our welcoming had been completed, we were ushered over to the central fire.

We were made to sit and were given coconut bowls containing dried berries and nuts - and the girl with the water-skin returned.

A bit later, the woman who had taken the fish came back - with a smooth wooden platter holding the results of her labor.

The chief joined us and the four of us shared the food we had given them.

When we were finished eating, the chief gave the woman a kiss on the mouth and she left us.

Since he hadn't done that to any other female, we assumed she was his wife. Unfortunately, I'd already forgotten what she looked like.

The chief glanced up to see the four warriors returning.

The young man, that had volunteered first, approached and handed one of our oars to the chief. The oar had been broken in half.

From the signs they were making, I could tell that the lifeboat was still at our campsite - but that they needed help getting it.

The chief made signs that they would have to wait until morning.

The young leader looked at me and must have seen the smear on my forehead.

He walked over and I stood to my feet.

One by one, the four young men welcomed me to their group, smiling and nodding.

Within a few minutes, the sky started darkening and I realized we had spent more than half of the day on the run.

As we sat around the fire, watching the general activities of the sizeable group, I could feel myself nodding off.

I don't know how many people they usually have keep watch, but it seemed like there was an above-average amount of interest in making sure that all sides of the village were kept secure all night - and would probably stay that way for at least a couple days.