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Well, that nap I took lasted all night.  I wanna go home!  I’m achy from that hard ground, I’m dirty and I’m hungry.  At least I’m not still water logged.  Now, where is that blasted book?  Okay, it’s here under some of this worthless brush bed I made.  The book hasn’t helped all that much yet, but at least it’s something.  I guess if I find something to eat I could rub a couple sticks together and make a fire.  The pages ought to help get the fire going a bit.  What a joke!   Me rubbing two sticks together and actually making a fire?  Yeah, sure.  My Girl Scout troop went camping out in hotels.  We were a city bunch. 

So what other helpful information is in this book?  How to climb out of a well.  Do people dig wells on deserted islands?  Maybe it’s deserted because people didn’t dig wells and died off from drinking that water that causes diarrhea.  Ummm.  Maybe I’d better not let my mind wander there.  Here’s a section on how to navigate a minefield.  Please tell me these people didn’t plant a minefield before they died off.  Maybe they forgot where they planted the mines and blew themselves off this chunk of land.  It really doesn’t look as if there’s been a bunch of blasts going off here.  In any case, let’s see what it says.  Keep my eyes on my feet.  Freeze.  Freeze?  It’s too hot here to freeze.  As far as not moving, I haven’t even started walking yet.  And if I don’t like what I see, walk backwards.  Run that by me again.  If I don’t like what I see, walk backwards.  That way I just won’t see myself stepping on that stuff that’s going to blast me right off this island.  Let’s just pretend that there are no mines here.  I think we’ll ignore the section about falling through the ice and needing to survive in frigid water.  We’ll worry about that when hell freezes over. 

I’m still hungry and thirsty.  Here we go.  How to find water on a deserted island.  Maybe this little book is good for something after all.  Collect rainwater in anything handy, such as a bowl, plate or helmet.  Give me a break.  I’m not going to go searching for a chunk of a downed tree to hollow out a bowl with some rock!  Collect dew.  This could work.  Tie rags or tufts of fine grass around my ankles and walk around.  No rags, but I can use my socks. Then wring them out into  that container I don’t have.  I don’t think so.  I can just open my mouth and drink, as long as I hold my breath and don’t think about those dirty, smelly socks.  Except now the dew is dried up from the sun glaring down.  Catch a fish (bare handed out of the rushing current that landed me here) and suck the eyes.  I don’t think so!  Look for bird droppings.  I’m not even going to read that section.  My imagination is running wild and I don’t want to know.  I’m not that thirsty yet.  Maybe I’ll just find that river water that’s going to give me diarrhea.  Now it’s telling me to find that banana tree that I couldn’t find before I took my nap.  If I ever find that water I know how to purify it – not that I have anything that I need to do it.  I’m still hungry and I don’t feel like fishing without a pole or building animal traps.  I need something now, not next week. 

Come on, let’s go tramping through this jungle and see if we can find some fruit or something.  I’m tossing this book and leaving it to rot.  I just don’t want to read any more scary novels.  If I want to take a book on my next trip, it’s going to be something tame like learn how to speak Finnish in three easy lessons.  Hey, this isn’t so difficult walking through the jungle.  It’s almost like a little path.  I certainly hope it’s not a lion path or something.  Look.  The jungle ended already.  We’re almost out.  Oh, no!  What’s that?  After all I’ve gone through, I can’t believe what I’m seeing.  That’s a  little hut over there.  I wonder if it’s deserted.  Are there people there?  Are they friendly?  And that?  It’s a boat.  There’s a river or something over there.  Let’s go.  Hurry!  I want to catch that boat before they leave me  stranded here.  They’re coming back.  They saw me.  I don’t believe this.  Those people look like a bunch of tourists.  “Yes, of course it was a bad storm yesterday.  Where am I?  Who are you?  A tour director?  Where am I?  One of the Florida Keys?  Hey, I’ve been to Key West.  It doesn’t look anything like this!”  Marquesas Keys?  I’ve never heard of those.  Ummm  This tour brochure says they’re 30 miles west of Key West.  Overgrown by mangrove.  That explains the jungle.  They are protected as part of the Key West National Wildlife Refuge. The Marquesas were used for target practice by the military as recent as 1980.  Shit!  I could’ve been walking through a minefield!

Tags: Finnish, fishing, Florida Keys, girl scouts, islands, Key West, Key West National Wildlife Refuge, Marquesas Keys, minefields, nap, purify, target practice, worst case scenario
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