Stranded | Teen Ink

Stranded

June 2, 2021
By WriterPersonGuyThing101, Merritt Island, Florida
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WriterPersonGuyThing101, Merritt Island, Florida
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The crashing of the waves, cawing of the gulls, and bugs chirping away permeate loudly into the day. These are the noises that can be heard on most beaches. On deserted beaches however, it is much different. There are no noises from cars, boats, and really no hint of civilization at all. For many, this is an unknown world of loneliness and desperation. To Jonathan Tinker, however, this was the new reality. The sun stings his eyelids, as the waves wash his toes. Jonathan washed ashore in broad daylight, his skin red as a tomato. All he could taste was salt, and blood. It has been a while since that fateful night during the accident. The container shipping industry is a dangerous one, especially if a container slips and carries someone overboard. 

“Agh. What happened?” Jonathan asked into the wide expanse of sand and seaweed. “Is there anyone? Please, I need help!” Tinker waits a few moments in anticipation of a response, but nothing happens. All of the sudden, a fierce pain in his stomach makes itself known. This pain is like a knot, tangling up his insides. Jonathan, to put it simply, is hungry. However, hunger is easy to satiate. What he decides to focus on first, is to build a shelter. Considering cup ramen is still in Jonathan’s system from last night, starvation is still a long way off. It’s time to forage for materials.

“How do you build a tent thing again?” he wonders to himself. Suddenly, flashbacks rush through his mind, as the survivor remembers a time from years back. He is reminded of the time spent in the wilderness as a scout, specifically how to build a shelter. Oh yeah. First you need some sort of foliage for the roof, and then logs to support it. Trusting in his gut, and memory, Jonathan Tinker ventures further inland and off of the beach. It’s not a very long trek, as the island isn’t particularly large, but the place isn’t exactly small either. Anyways, past the beach, there are various tropical bushes, palm trees, and the like. This place is definitely full of life, the survivor thinks to himself. 

Wandering further into the palm forest, he begins searching. The foliage is a mix with various shades of green and the occasional flower. It has also become very humid and muggy. Thorns want to attack at his feet, as wet fallen leaves smush against them. Jonathan is on the search for multiple sturdy, yet flexible, branches. The leaves begin to ruffle, then he screams in terror. “Eek!” Some small creature has just scurried in front of him, and hid under a dead leaf. While probably harmless, Jonathan harbors some anger towards the critter that startled him. “Come out of there!” he goes, “I’m warning you, get out now.” A faint squeak is heard soon thereafter. That noise is extremely familiar. “Oh you’re just a mouse? You have got to be kidding me. Come here!” Jonathan turns over the leaf and grabs the rodent. Under closer inspection, it’s unlike anything that he has seen before. The ears are long, and the coat is some strange green color. Maybe it’s edible. “Perhaps some garlic and herbs! Wait a minute.” Remembering his current predicament, Tinker realizes it might be a while before any garlic and herbs are available. 

Continuing on the search for materials, further inland the survivor stumbles upon a rather large tree. It must be over a hundred feet tall, and there is no telling how old it is. Jonathan has a great idea, which is to climb the tree in search of branches. Beginning to scale it, he grabs onto the bark like a monkey. Grab and pull. Grab and pull. Eventually he makes his way up the tree and tests out some branches by pulling on them. “Perfect. They’re sturdy, yet flexible,” Jonathan thinks to himself. He gives a branch one big yank to break it off. “Oh great, just great,” he puts out into the wilderness, sarcastically. The branch is going to be a little thicker than that. It will need to be cut off.

The sun has a different idea, though. It’s already beginning to go down. It seems nothing has even been accomplished. I at least need a fire, the survivor tells himself. He searched his mind until memories of building campfires revealed themselves. How could Jonathan Tinker survive if he cannot build a simple fire? Gathering old dry wood, sticks, and kindling, he leaves the forest and makes his way back towards the beach. Jonathan decides to try out the trusty hand drill method. He takes a straight stick and strips away the bark to form a spindle. Then, with the kindling, and a flattened piece of wood, he attempts the method first taught to him by his father. After about half an hour, and many failed attempts, at last, a small fire is made. Jonathan then nurtured his little ember into a larger, more practical sized fire. Overloaded by joy with this one accomplishment, he decides that the smartest thing to do is run around the fire, screaming and shouting like a caveman. “Huzzah!” he goes, “Hooray! Yippee!”

He then takes out another stick and the mouse is caught earlier. Putting that little rodent onto a stick, it gets a nice char being roasted on the fire. While he picked up many survival skills from early in life, Jonathan never actually learned how to hunt and clean animals. Immediately after the mouse enters the flame, a smell of burning hair fills the air. No matter, after about 5 minutes it is browned and crispy. His stomach rumbles louder at the sight of the tasty snack. Taking a bite, Jonathan’s excitement turned quickly into disgust. All of its organs and entrails still lie within, the bones only worsening it’s texture. He tries to vomit, but is prevented from expelling anything due to a lack of fluids. Feeling a little defeated, he lies down and falls asleep.

The next day, Jonathan Tinker wakes up thirsty and hungry as ever. He slept on the sand, which was not a very good idea. Insect bites now blanketed his body. Day one was almost a waste, but today things would change, he believed. Luckily, the fire was still going, and Jonathan fed the little flame before leaving back into the forest. He goes much past the tree to where the ground gets more and more wet. This means one thing. There’s a water source! He follows the water until it comes into view. There isn’t just a water source, it is crystal clear. Finally, things are starting to look up for the survivor. He runs to the creek, and dunks his head in. Taking as much water as humanly possibly, Jonathan feels slightly replenished. This was truly a highpoint in his stay. Now that water is covered, it’s only a matter of finding food and shelter.

He glances down into the water. And sees a few river rocks. Then, more flashbacks set upon him. Tinker remembers his time in school, learning about cavemen fashioning knives out of rocks. This could work in a pinch. “Perfect.” The survivor picks up 2 of the river stones and gets to work. Smashing them together, a point and an edge is beginning to form! They clack together for what seems to be an eternity. However, it all paid off. Now not only does Jonathan have a very useful tool for foraging, but this sharpened rock will also be a good hunting weapon. “Squeak squeak,” another little mouse makes itself known, and toots at the man. “Sorry little buddy, but I need you right now.” Tinker grabs the second mouse, dispatches it as humanly as possible, and cleans out the insides. He supposes this might actually be a good meal.

Returning to the fire, the rest of the fur gets removed and the mouse is put on a stick for roasting. As it plunges into the fire, something different happens. No burning hair smell, and hopefully no foul taste. The green critter turns darker and darker. After just a short time, it’s ready to eat. Jonathan lifts the mouse up to his lips and takes a bite. It gets chewed up just a few times. “Wow, this isn’t half bad,” he says, swallowing what is in his mouth. It’s not excellent by any means, but it was certainly edible. After a while, day turned to night, and the survivor was ready to sleep.

He turns onto his side, into the warm yet comfortable sand. Wishing for a bed to magically appear, his eyes close, and his eyes begin to rest. His tranquility is then abruptly interrupted by a loud noise. Looking around, the fire is too blinding to see far enough. It’s terrifying, but Jonathan knows it is best to remain silent. He goes over all of the possibilities for what caused that sound. Could it be a bear or something like that? I hope it doesn’t eat people! Footsteps become audibly and get closer. Barely able to hold his calm, Jonathan Tinker clutches his makeshift knife tighter than a boa constrictor strangling prey. The sounds then stop, and a few hours go by with nothing happening. It was very early morning, and the sun began to slightly illuminate his surroundings. Now being able to see, he looks around the campsite. Whatever was here had left, and it had stolen much sleep. Whatever. Now to build a shelter.

Groggy as ever, Jonathan heads back toward the tree, knife in hand. This is the final step for his survival. Food and water are already in enough supply to at least get by (though a diet of just mice isn’t a very healthy one). After about ten minutes, the survivor makes it back to the massive tree, and climbs it again to get some suitable branches. Only a few are needed. The man starts on each one the same, by bashing it with the sharpened stone. Due to the tough properties of said branches, this is pretty tough and requires a lot of energy. Every hit bounces on the wood, but little after little, progress is made. Annoyed, Jonathan asks mother nature, “Are you really going to make me spend hours on this?” With just an iota of satisfaction after each time progress is noticed, he begins to daydream about the regular world. Jonathan wonders if there are search teams trying to find him, or if everyone just forgot. “Could they have just forgotten me?” he ponders. Sure, Tinker wasn’t the most liked, but they would have at least sent for help, no? Snap. The branch breaks off and falls, crashing to the ground. “Well, onto the next one.”

Eventually, all of the branches are gathered up. He climbs down the massive trunk, and picks them up at one end, letting the other drag. While walking back to the campsite, a few more squeaks are again heard. There will be dinner tonight. Jonathan gathers up 4 mice, a new personal best, and continues back toward the campsite. After arriving, he finds the fire burnt out and extinguished. It should have been fed before leaving, but that was forgotten. It takes about 30 minutes to restart the fire and nurture it back to life. Now, work on the branches can proceed. The survivor walks toward the branches before falling face first into the ground and passing out, which staying up for 24 hours and heavily exerting an already weak and starving body can do.

Waking up the next morning, he is well rested enough to fix his shelter. Taking the branches, Jonathan uses his knife to carve out v shapes at the top, which will hold up the palm fronds. “Wait a minute,” he spurts out. You’ll need palm fronds for the roof, dummy. To Jonathan Tinker, there is no better time than the present, so he sets out for some palm fronds.

In search of the roofing material, the first place that comes to mind is the outskirts of the forest. It takes just a few minutes before stumbling upon a massive group of coconut trees. Where there are coconut trees, there will not only be fallen branches, but also delicious fruit. Gathering up the palm fronds he can, Tinker uses them as a cart to place coconuts on, and hauls his bounty back.

Finally, everything is here. He could have a completed camp very soon. Jonathan starts back onto cutting the branches one by one. He sharpens each end, because the deeper into the ground they can get, the sturdier it should be. After beating them into the ground with his trust knife, Jonathan layers the palm fronds on top strategically, making sure everything is lined up. At last, shelter is made. Tinker gives it a brief push, and it still stands up straight. “Good and sturdy,” he tells himself. There is even a layer of wood and leaves at the bottom, so that he is not forced to stay on the bug infested sand. Now old he can rest easy, with everything being figured out.

As the night, once again, draws near, Jonathan decides to have some dinner. Instead of his usual meal, consisting of only mice, he thought it would be nice to add in some coconut. Hacking at the coconut with his trusty knife, nothing happens. Coconuts are pretty hard to get into, and the survivor is coming to that realization. Just a few dents into the skin are made. “Perhaps it is peelable, like a tough orange,” he thinks. Jonathan took his knife and made a cut so that he could grab and pull off a section of the skin, hoping to reveal the delicious white meat. That seemed to work, but after peeling the whole nut, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Now there is a tough seed to break into. Jonathan keeps smashing it with the rock, trying to break a hole into the top, but nothing happens. He attempts this for about 15 minutes, smashing the fruit with various small rocks. Angered by this tough nut, Tinker screams in rage and throws the coconut to the ground. It thumps against a rather large rock, hits directly in the side of the coconut, and cracks in half. Jonathan eventually looks back at his coconut, seeing all of the water rushing out, and runs to salvage what is left. After figuring out the correct method, there is finally an additional food source.

Jonathan Tinker now has everything figured out for survival, he just needs rescue. Whenever that happens, all will be back to normal. It wasn’t that simple though. The days without rescue grew into a longer and longer list. Usually lacking facial hair entirely, Jonathan grew stubble. He still has hope that everything will be fine, but is it really possible for rescue to arrive? It’s already been a few weeks, and a tough few at that. Tinker ponders a bit on the meaning of life, and why it has chosen this path for him. Not knowing the outcome of something is difficult for everyone, especially in a case like this. He still, however, tries to look at it positively. “I will not die on this island. If no one comes for me, then I will sustain and flourish in my newfound life.”

Eventually after a few months, something happened. One night, when Jonathan was sleeping, more loud noises were heard. It was very similar to the noises he had heard earlier. Tinker decides it would be in his best interest to destroy whatever that is. He takes a new knife he made, and ties it onto a long stick. Like a spearman, he rushes off into the night, following the strange noises. After a while, Tinker starts to swing it around like a madman, howling at whatever is there. Unexpectedly, he gets a response. It howls back at Jonathan, and growls like a rabbit dog. He comes to the conclusion that it must be a wolf-life beast. There simply aren’t any other things that howl like that. He runs at the source of noise with his spear and swings again, definitely hitting something. It falls to the ground.

Jonathan drew nearer to the animal, as he wanted a better look. It was indeed a wolf now curled up on the ground. He leans in closer. Wrong move. The wolf, now done playing dead, jumps onto the survivor, and bites at his face. Screaming for life, Jonathan gets the wolf one more time with his spear. Instead of immediately rushing to the animal, he waits, and listens for more to appear. After all, wolves usually travel in packs. No more of the animals come, and he brings the creature back to camp for eating. Wanting to believe there was just one lone animal, the survivor bought into that idea and went to sleep. Luckily, and by sheer random chance, he would get away with his prize.

For a few more days, he was right again and again. Things started to return to normal, or the new normal really. His stubble was beginning to grow into a very short beard, and there are still no signs of rescue. For Jonathan Tinker, things are getting more and more hopeless. Before, he didn’t think in a million years that he would be abandoned. However, this is becoming more and more likely. Now arguing with himself, the survivor is unsure about if he will make it out alive. Even when he was just a little kid, Tinker always made the best out of a bad situation. He came to the conclusion that surviving on the island was doing just that.

Some more days go on, and it becomes obvious that the quality of the creek water has changed. It has gone from clear to this murky reddish brown. How this happened is beyond Jonathan, however, he understands that a new water source is necessary. The survivor has some vague memories about wells, and he realizes that digging a deep well should supply him with good water. At the river, Jonathan grabs some stones and beats them together. Instead of making a blade, he flattens them out and ties them onto the stick in order to make a shovel. Tinker knows that it isn’t very sharp, or tough for that matter, but it should dig out the soft dirt near the creak pretty well anyways. He then commences work on the well.

The shovel almost falls apart, but it still works better than bare hands. A rhythmic motion of scooping and throwing ensues. The shovel scoops, then dumps, then scoops, then dumps. After a few hours, this endless cycle is broken, and the holes should be deep enough to allow a little water to enter. It will probably take a while though, so he calls it for the night.

The next morning, Tinker checks the well, and sure enough there is water. It’s definitely cleaner than whatever is in the creek, though it looks pretty muddy. Much less appetizing, but much more safe, a new water supply is had. As time goes on drinking from this well, however, Jonathan is feeling noticeably weaker. What can you do, he thinks. It’s not like boiling it would help, as it is the sediment in the water that is an issue, not microorganisms. He continues drinking from the well.

A few nights later, another one of those noises woke Jonathan up. “So there were more,” he thinks to himself. “Get out of there, you dumb wolf!” he screams at the animal. The screaming does nothing of course, so Tinker gets his spear again and begins running towards the animal. Screaming and howling like last time, his heart is beating. Adrenaline is shooting through his veins. The sound of just one creature, however, quickly turns to two. Then three. Then four. As he happens upon the animals, Jonathan starts, “Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes as the mighty Jonathan takes on a pack of wolves.” He shouts this into the air, as if he believed an audience was watching. It was now time to attack.

The sound of fighting cuts through the air loudly. Wolves growled, and Jonathan followed suit. It was really quite a thing to hear. After a little bit, one of the swings makes contact and seemingly takes one wolf out of the equation. These animals, being rather caring, knew what Jonathan had just done. Being angered, they went all out on the survivor. One by one they jump onto Tinker, trying to overwhelm him. He yells gibberish and falls to the ground. This is going to be trickier than originally anticipated. In his rage, Jonathan grabs one of the wolves and throws it to the ocean. Then with his spear, the one on his back is knocked off. The last wolf pops off of the survivor by itself, and groups up with the pack. “Ha! You all ran away. Should’ve realized who you were dealing with,” he tries communicating with the wolves. Unbeknownst to Tinker, the animals did not understand him.

In the flash of an eye, the wolves jump out of the darkness and pounce onto Jonathan. They were unfazed by what had happened earlier. He falls onto the ground again. One wolf, being smarter than the others, bites down on the spear, and plays tug of war with the survivor. The creature won, and took the weapon out of Tinker’s reach. It seems the end is near for poor Jonathan, but the unexpected then happens. He begins laughing. It seems insane in a moment like that. He is literally being eaten alive, yet simultaneously laughing. “Jokes on you wolves, rescue has come.”

The sound of a motor boat can be heard on the beach. It gets closer and closer until a bright light begins to shine into Jonathan’s eyes. He can almost make out an object in that light. It was the moment he had been waiting for, rescue. After months of surviving, it would all pay off. Jonathan looked off into the horizon, and knew his future must be bright. He came closer to the light, and the wolves continued attacking Jonathan. After that it all went dark.

After so long surviving, was this really it? So much deprivation from society, and so many hardships faced. Would the world be so cruel as to let him die on that island? 

He awoke in a place, very white. “Wait, have I died?” Jonathan asks. No answer comes, and he waits in the soft bed that he was placed on. Beginning to get a grasp of his surroundings, Tinker sees tubes going into his arm, a little device on his finger, and cabinets with medical supplies. Eventually, a nurse popped in. “Oh thank goodness,” she goes, “You’re awake.” “Well of course I am,” he laughs in response. “Yeah,” the nurse continues on, “Well those wolves did get you pretty good.” Jonathan then spews back, “Nonsense. I was winning that battle.” “Well, whatever you say Mr. Tinker. Sorry it took so long. We had absolutely no clue that this island even existed. It doesn’t matter now. At least you are safe.” A tear starts to come into the survivor's eye as he begins to realize what this means. No more dirty water. No more coconuts and mice. No more dead leaf bed. No more wolves in the night. Jonathan Tinker asks one simple question. “So, when do I get to go home?”



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