by Robert Lyon
There were some that had given up and were cooling themselves in the surf, sitting with their legs spread for the waves to wash over them, amongst them were Tammy Melad, Michelle Syre, and Jessica Haydel, when a wave crashed over their knees and a crossed their chest they would cry out, “Oh…Yes! That’s cold!”
The quest for fire became a Neanderthal endeavor; its futility was matched only by its absurdity. Gunner’s mate Smity had been a gunner’s mate guns petty officer second class for three years and a navy sailor for a total of eight years, he ran like a frantic five year old into the ocean yelling, “I can’t believe we can’t even start a camp fire!!” Hudlow saw this demonstration of fatigue and disbelief and said, “I can start a camp fire…” he strolled over to the ‘pentagon’ kneeled down with some dry leaves and grass and said, “Behold! Fire!” as everyone cheered and stepped back he produced a cigarette lighter from his pocket, a nice silver zippo refillable lighter and struck its thumb wheel…and struck it again, and again. Hauldbalm fumbled putting his glasses back on and said, “well we got that started…” after his glasses were on he noticed the zippo lighter and commented, “Fire huh?...that one would have more water in it than these plastic ones.” Hudlow looked up surprised at the handful of lighters the master chief was holding and said, “I
didn’t know you had lighters” Everyone there in that circle sat back in defeat and disillusionment as they watched Jim Hudlow try all the lighters again. Seeing him fail repeatedly took all their hope, and they wander off along the beach to huddle up with each other. The whole day had been spent trying to start a fire and now dusk was approaching and the winds picked up chilling everyone on the beach.
I had finished making clay bricks and realized a kiln would require too much time and fresh water was needed immediately,
I had no idea why I wasn’t already dying of thirst, so the bricks would be used for a firebox and a ceramic boiler was my goal. I had also finished the bottom half of the boiler it would probably hold three gallons. I searched my pockets for my cigarette lighter and tried to strike it, to no avail. I then held it to my ear to listen for any hissing butane from it and there was no sound.
The sun would be setting soon and I needed fire, when I held up the red plastic lighter and looked through it I noticed particles floating in the fluid, it had filled with sea water. I looked around and grabbed a couple of sticks and tried rubbing them together and I laughed saying to myself, “Well…no lighter, but I still have my shoe laces! haha.” I pulled out a shoe lace and tied the ends to the ends of a somewhat flexible stick and then searched for the driest wood I could find. I took the bow I had made and wrapped the string around a dry stick and placed the tip on a dry piece of wood and surrounded the tip with dry grass; holding the top of the stick with a rock and with the tip on the dry wood, surrounded by kindling, I used the bow to spin the stick, working up the heat with quick movements.
It had been about an hour and had grown dim, embers started to form in the kindling. I hushed at it with whispering breathe without stopping. As a small flame started I threw more
kindling on the small flame. I scooped up the small fire with a piece of palm from the palm trees and my hands and placed it on the kindling in the trench. The fire grew just as the sun set then I settled near the fire putting my shoe lace back in. I was concerned about spiders and snakes and thought I should sleep somehow elevated up the ground…this area was not the sand of the beach, but a dirty mud pit I had been digging in all day.
Small black birds were darting around the fire and some sort of moths were there too, I found that comforting until I realized those were bats. I heard rustling in the brush and thought I saw dark eyes peering at me for a moment. I thought of how I didn’t want to other survivors seeing my attempt to build an evaporative desalination system, and how embarrassed
I would be if it were just a fool’s folly. Many times I had seen smart guys on the navy ships lose their social creditability over an impulse or bad idea and the ridicule it solicited, I had managed to avoid that throughout my time at sea, and now as a castaway ‘shipwreck’ I was definitely going to avoid falling prey to that nightmare. I laid there starring at the moon, trying not to think of anything, focusing on the tasks at hand; fresh water, shelter, food. It’s do or die time.
At the landing they were huddled in the darkness moving to and from small groups huddled together like cat burglars.
Artimus and Mormus were closer to the surf so the crashing waves would drown out their voices. They could be seen in the moonlight and most of what they had to talk about was how beautiful the horizon looked as it seemed to mingle with the sky, the perfumed aroma of the island now seemed to have a sandal wood like accent to it, which was actually due to my fire on the other end of the island.
Artimus said, “This would make a good spot for a club med.” Mormus smiled and starred at the horizon, it had been in his training to keep spirits up…even his own, and over the years he learned that it was a simple matter of re-contextualizing the circumstances. He replied, “It may be yet, Dave.” Artimus yawned and said, “We need to maintain order until all this sinks in with the crew, a rescue might take a month.” Mormus laughed and replied, “A month at club med is what I need! But, I’d like to see some rain…might even dance in it or drink it right out of the sky.” Artimus laughed, and added, “The one thing I am sure of is fresh water will be here before the fleet. haha” The captains comment was taken with good cheer, for a simple reason; history, should it actually be written is dependent upon survivors to write it, there was no point in contemplating failure in a survival critical category, if you fail you die.
Ebony Allick had been the last helmsmen to stand watch aboard the ship and she feared an interrogation, she hung back and away from the crew sleeping in the brush. The Pentagon had the chiefs and Junior officers sitting around speculating as to where in the world we had ended up and how long it would take to be found; after all the mission failure would require some other unit to attempt it. Just under a palm tree rested Francesco
Bellium and Monica Villa they were nestled together for a cold night. They whispered in each other’s ears promises and reassurances, they would stick together no matter what may come. Charlie Mcree slept with a rock in one hand and a stick in the other, she was prepared to lash out at anything that may come for her. Eric Milson and Philip Doary slept back to back to share their warmth. They entire crews list rested in these fashions spread across the beach, they stumbled about going to each other for comfort, some walked in their sleep and cuddled
up to another only to fall back to sleep and have that partner get up and walk to someone else.
I woke as my fire began to die and the heat it afforded began to dissipate, I tossed in more kindling and watched the flame spring back to life and tossed in more wood. There in the fire light I examined the bowl shaped bottom of the boiler and the bricks checking for cracks and tapping a rock on them to test for hardness, earlier when the fire was larger those clay pieces were engulfed in flame. The shock I had been through offset my sense of isolation, it felt better to be alone while I came to terms with the circumstances. I was far enough from the surf that its sound was not as deafening as it had been before and I no longer felt dizzy. I lacked the comfort of a blanket and looked at the piece of string I had made earlier and wondered just how long it would take to make a blanket. I checked the fire and decided to try to go back to sleep.
The next morning the fire was still burning and the winds were dying down, I checked the bowl and bricks, some of the bricks had chipped and crack but would still be useful the bowl that would be the bottom half of the boiler was intact, I formed it with great concern for the possibility of it cracking. It was still hot so I picked it up with sticks and used a sock I had drenched with water to cool it and check if the clay would just rub off, fortunately it didn’t. I formed the top half to have a spout with a neck; I didn’t think I could pull off using a coil; I just wasn’t experienced enough with th
e clay. Once it set it on the somewhat burnt lattice I had built I went to collect more wood, and tossed it into the fire, I didn’t have to go far the brush seemed to have been drying, winter had just ended in Everett, but we had gone south of the equator here summer was just ending.
The rest of the survivors were laid out still recovering and exhausted from a night of hide and seek. The chief petty officers attempted to hold a formal quarters and daily muster; it was pointed out that reporting to your assigned space for work wasn’t going to happen because no one can hold their breath that long or swim that far. The arguments in sued.
Chief Brosuer said, “Hey…! Guys…I need to take muster, we need to know if we lost anyone.” EN3 Gruble and EN3 Mier rushed up and said, “Mier and Gruble reporting for duty, oh and fuck you for losing the ship.” and they walked off. Hauldbalm said, “We need to get things going…like a fire for example, so we can keep things going.” Williams yelled out, “I can’t fucking believe you guys! Take a head count we aren’t playing any more games.” Chief Dotz said, “Damn it, we’re still in charge!” FC1
Forester said, “The hell you are. I’m with them.” Atrisia Wells interjected, “You fucking retards stay in the pentagon we’ll take a head count and…” Hauldbalm interjected, “Who’s going to start the fire, who’s going to find food, who’s going to find water..? That’s what you …” Atrisia interjected, “…it sure as hell isn’t going to be any of you! So shut the fuck up!” The chiefs started looking around for the captain and found him still asleep near the surf with the X.O. Chief Casley nuddged him and said, “Captain…Captain, they won’t do what we tell them sir.” Artimus rolled over as he said, “Tell your mother; I’m sleeping.” he then realized his face was in sand and blurted out,
“Hold on…what did you say?”
I started piling the bricks and spackling it with clay to form the firebox and set the bowl into the center, it fit nicely so I was able to spackle the gaps in the corners easily. I knew the burnt wood would serve well as charcoal and burn longer, hotter, and cleaner than the wood but to keep it dry I would have to wrap it
in paper. Fortunately in Seattle crafts like these had become a fad, soap making, clay working, and even paper making had been featured at Pike’s Place market, small kits were sold from a book store there. So, on to making paper, as I looked for suitable plant materials to mill down into pulp and screen dry with my tee-shirt I realized If I found a long enough hollow stick I could make bellows out of paper to fan the fire in the fire box.
After I had gathered my additional materials I took a step back and looked at what was so far my best hope for survival. It was over whelming beautiful to me, it looked exactly right and I thought to myself, “Did I really build that?” Then I touched my bottom lip with my index finger to check for Moisture, maybe dehydration was already getting to me. The boiler had a quality to it dark burnish red bowl with a groove on top to receive the other half, nice round sloping contour to the now red clay spackled fire box, it could have passed for a lawn ornament or fountain at a hardware store. I glanced over at the top half still burning on the lattice and thought, “I may not die after all.”
I walked back to the clearing toward the ridge to check on everyone else and what progress they had made, and I heard angry yelling. Once I reached the ridge I peered through the trees to the group on the beach. They were wrestling and shoving each other. The only words I was able to make out were yelled with a tone of disbelief and anger, “Captain’s mast…?
Where is his ship?!...Captain of what, there ship wreck!!??” I watched for a while trying to determine what groups had formed out of this and felt thirst kick in hard, it seems it was hotter on this side of the island the breeze was not on us at all. Realizing that for the first time I had heard the term ‘shipmate’ mocked as
‘ship wreck’ in a now completely accurate way, I stumbled back to my work.
The arguing continued Tom Norrie paced back in forth at the shoreline examining the rougher sand, metallic looking shell fragments caught his eye. Hudlow stood watching him and commented, “I think he’s looking for his virginity.” Mr. Capes found a straight stick about an inch wide and a foot and a half long and started carrying it as though it were a Billie club.
Clarkson sat next to her roommate Spayner seeking comfort and an answer as to what to do without any feminine hygiene products to which Joanna Spayner replied, “Oh ya those and you know… food, water, eventually clothes, ya the little things.”
Clarkson asked, “Why can’t you just be good to me?” Spayner replied, “Why would you say that dear?” Clarkson deemed that to be mockery Joanna was not her mother and it seemed they traded of roles when these things came up.
Atrisia paced back and forth through the sand enraged to the point of tears, this was another example of a behavior
Artimus knew they should not be aware he had noticed, without a reaction from him it either becomes a personal understanding of familiarity between them or it is legitimized by his acceptance or silence. Artimus strolled down the shoreline to give them time to calm down and realized the pentagon didn’t afford privacy to either of them and he would need something more substantial than a lean-to on the beach. Artimus then grabbed a tee-shirt from the pile of ‘drinking cloth’s’ and got it wet it in ocean and sucked some water out of it.
It was still day light and the top half of the boiler casing was visibly inspectable unlike the bottom half that had been
‘cooked’ overnight. I told myself it didn’t have to be perfect, just hardened on the surfaces and free of cracks. I decided to pull it off the lattice, I was very careful with the bottom half and that was just a large bowl, this half had an elongated neck
forming a spout and I would have to be even more careful. Once
I pulled it down I left it to cool and fetched more clay to form some deep cups to catch the water as a receptacle, as I got the clay I noticed animal tracks in the mud and said to myself,
“Somewhere around here there’s a cheeseburger running around.” I had been up since early in the morning it felt like three or four hours had passed and it seemed to be ten in the morning I thought I had slept in but must have awoken just a half hour after dawn. The sun would be high soon and I wouldn’t want to be hanging out fireside, so after I formed a couple of vases and deep bowls I made sure the fire had enough wood and headed up to the hill top for another ‘look-see.’
I scanned the ocean for any signs of ships and the skies for any aircraft and there was nothing, as I looked to the sky I asked myself, “If the rumor of reprogramming a satellite was true why wouldn’t they have sent an aircraft?” and then I remember
Artimus and his reputation. I had handled the road closures due to snow, it was more high profile than I wanted it to be but he was seeking some credit, any kind of clout at all. He must have needed this mission to offset the holy hell he brought down on us by making such a big deal of the legal technicalities of utilizing public and private resources as the military, calling it martial law. For all I know the U.S. Navy attacked and sunk us in some damn political game.
Mr. Mormus was struggling to keep a positive context in his perceptions as dehydration really took hold, this was not a club med situation. He tried to recall what he was doing in his last moments before the loss of the ship but could only recall making sure he grabbed his hat as he left his stateroom. Now he thought, “How absurd…I needed my hat didn’t I? It’s lost at sea somewhere but in this disaster the one thing I must be sure to
grab in the last minute is my hat?” He stood there looking bewildered and was noticed by EM1 Haydel, she made a point of walking past him in his confusion and uttered as she passed,
“I see I’m not the only one that’s forgotten what my tongue tastes like.” which only further confounded him. He said to himself as she walked away, “No I was…my hat? my hat??” He looked around and said, “I was…there was…I was thinking…”
EW3 Dannette Ramsley was with her boyfriend Da
le, they had taken to hiding together in the shade so as not to be noticed, as did Francesco and Monica they had each other and this concealment resulted in their being more hydrated than the others, so long as they were with their partner they were where they should be. Everyone else seemed to be driven to find something or get somewhere, though it seemed only a few had a drive to do something. Dannette struck a coy demeanor which was unlike her she tended to want to prove she was a party girl and was definitely involved in any work or action that was going on. She asked dale as she leaned over with her head toward his shoulder, “So where are going to build our house?” and she gleamed a smile that brought a brightness to her face. Dale responded short of breath from the lack of food and water,
“Texas” She laughed and caressed his hair and said, “I think we may need one here for a week or two, you know a vacation home.” Dale’s vision was blurred and he pointed right out at the center of the beach and said, “There.” Danette noticed his condition and said, “I’ll get you some water.” and she grabbed his tee shirt they had been using as a sponge and went to the surf to wet it.
Monica was resting in Francesco’s arms beneath the shade of a small lean-to he had made far away from the pentagon against a tree. As she napped in his arms Francesco spoke of
making a fishing pole to get some fish and finding a lighter that still worked to start a fire for them. Francesco said, “When your awake I’ll start making a fishing pole and wade into the water, we might be able to get clean water out of one of these trees.