Stranded Deep

Day 5

I draw back my right arm, hand held high, making sure the pointed tip of the rocky shard I’m holding is facing the target. A piece of palm leaf wrapped tight to the rock, hopeful to avoid any accidents. My left-hand holds the nipping crustacean in place, showcasing its soft belly. I murmur a soft thank you for the life and smash the rock into the solar plexus of the underside of the armored creature.

I tried my best to use a stone with as sharp and clean an angle as possible, that was why I spent a good chunk of the morning smashing rocks together to create some form of sharpened tool. I clean the crab gently in the waves and take it back to camp. There’s not much here, but it is home.

I added more to the structure keeping me off the ground. Mostly palm leaves and stripping from the yucca plants around here. I used some sticks to prop up the tarp above and secured it to one of the palm trees.

I resign from using the raft from fears of puncturing it with sharp stones or sticks and instead use it solely for storage whilst on the island. I know I will use it to venture towards the other two islands soon and to check out what the mysterious object is sticking out of the water between all the islands.

At first, I thought it was a whale or worse, but after watching it for quite some time I noticed it was not moving. Just the illusion of it moving against the horizon. Now I think it is some form of shipwreck or other man-made object, I’ll check it out as soon as I put together a better system for water and food.

I hate relying on the coconuts and sparse rations left to keep me going so I have been attempting to fish and catch crabs and other crustaceans. Fishing is exceedingly difficult. I am using a spear I fashioned out of a stick with one of the shards of rock. I don’t want to get wet, which sounds stupid to say I know but hear me out. I only have one set of clothes, there are countless poisonous fish and jellies and coral I could end up being stung by, not to mention the sharks.

So my hope is to avoid the water for as long as possible because my goal here is to fucking outlive these bitches! I want to fucking win this battle and survive, that means avoiding possible death zones. I have been standing knee-deep in the water, waiting patiently in the blistering heat for fish to circle my legs.

The fish seem to have a jolly good time avoiding my stick and I have yet to catch a thing. Time and practice and patience will teach me how to be better, for now I shall try something else.

Back at camp, as the sun is getting ready to rest its head for the night, I take apart the shell of the crab as best I can and get it ready for the fire. Thankfully there were matches in the raft’s emergency kit. I had to waste a match this morning which was infuriating. I only had eight to begin with. I thought I had left enough firewood to keep it burning throughout the night and woke up this morning with only ashes left.

My hope was to keep the fire going on a slow burn until I figured out how to make one without using the matches. I knew it wasn’t practical to assume there was enough firewood to keep a fire going the whole time I was here but the thought of running out of matches without an alternative is enough to keep me up at night.

I place the crab meat in a large conk shell I found on the far side of the beach. Now I sit the shell in the fire. I can use shells like these as bowls or cups, best about them is they can withstand a fair amount of heat. As the crab cooks, and the smoke from the fire billows, the stars come out in all their glory and a wave of existential dread floats up on shore.

The fear is crippling at times. I’m not sure what it is I fear the most out here, but the sensation of fear, when it comes over me, when it washes over my whole being just like the waves trapping my soul here, when it floods my center and penetrates my core, is so powerful, it is so intoxicating and dreadful, I feel as though there is no silver lining whatsoever.

It takes me a while, each and every time the fear comes knocking, to rid myself of its poisonous qualities. I have to battle an internal demon, a cunning, sly, omnipotent devil in the dark. To do rightly so, I must first seek strength from prayer. This is no prayer to a religious god, not one you will be aware of that is. It is, however, some form of a god to me, a religion if you will.

Years ago, I encountered a passage from a special book, this passage became a mantra and a source of power. The power to see a new perspective of an almighty force, the force of fear. Whenever I encounter the weight of fear pressing in around me, darkening the edges of my world, I sit, and I pray.

I speak the mantra, I become the vibrations of the energy within the words and the vision I see of myself within my minds eye starts to form. A small, single point of light appears within the darkness. This point of light grows to an unbelievable amount until it takes up my entire mind's eye. The fear has passed through me, I have watched it and I have stood unmoved by it.

Usually this skill comes up against the fear of being honest or the fear of rejection or some blasé simple ass fear, usually it doesn’t take to long to remind myself what’s what. Out here though, surrounded by water, alone, that same cunning demon, the trickster Fear himself, he has a new power over me, the unfamiliar, unknown, unfaithful. I see him though, eventually I find him and shine my light on him, I always find the way.

That is my true skill. Having faith.

I lift the crab up towards my lip. The warmth floats up and across me, this is the first hot food I have eaten since I have been here. Today was my first catch. My first kill here on the island. The first step towards the new me.

The fear starts to lift and I am met with a feeling of distinguished comfort. A little peace at last. Each day as it comes, that is how I will get through this. You build a house one brick at a time. One brick at a time.

Day 9