Day Two: Daybreak
It seems that living on a deserted island, busting my ass to just survive and going to bed just after the sun goes down makes Jack an early riser. For the life of me I couldn’t sleep past sunrise. The seagulls were flying overhead and some waves that would have the Beach Boys hanging ten made it even harder. My lifestyle to date has meant that I would be going down just about now. Oh well, one must adapt and so I have.
Speaking of busting my ass, I spent yesterday afternoon and early evening playing Sir Edmund Hillary. This island apparently has a volcanic history and an impressive little mountain range no bigger than it is. If I had paid attention in my world geography class that might mean something. I’m reasonably sure that means that I’m in the Pacific, but I know that’s where I was when I was boarded so that isn’t much help. Of course since I don’t have a boat it’s all rather moot.
Anyway, back to the volcanoes. They’re extinct as fair as I can tell and covered in an abundance of vegetation. I’m sure some of it’s edible, but I’m equally sure that some of it’s poisonous and I have enough food for now. I got to the top of what I’ll call Mount Moe. It’s the biggest of the three “mountains” and gave me a view of my kingdom. The island is roughly teardrop shaped and my camp is about two-thirds down the right side if the point is the top. If memory serves and the sun rises in the east then that would put the point at roughly northwest.
The crater is closed up and water has collected in it creating a small lake that I’ll guess is about forty yards across. It’s clean water and could serve as an alternative should my barrels run dry. There are no fish and in fact I haven’t seen any animal life other than an abundance of birds, insects, and a few lizards.
Mount Larry and Mount Shemp (I always hated that damn Curly) are second and third running south from Moe. I’ll give them a closer look as I get the urge. Near the point of the tear there looks to be a small cove. The air is so clear here that judging distance is difficult, but I think I could make it there in half a day if I followed the coast, maybe less as the crow flies. The vegetation in the interior of the island isn’t that thick but the ground is pretty rough thanks to the Stooges.
Things are so quiet here that it’s starting to get a little creepy, especially at night. I’m an old city boy and am used to the noise. There are animal noises, but that’s nothing compared sleeping above a Parisian street.
In the silence I’ve continued to think about what in my life has brought me here. It’s probably the first “vacation” I’ve had since I was a kid. I can be relatively certain that no one is going to arrest me, shoot me, or otherwise try to make my life interesting. I don’t have a gig to plan or a deal to make. I’d say that this isn’t really all that bad, but it is. I’m a creature of action and I need to get out of this place or I can be certain that I’m going to crack.
Later…
I went away for a bit, did you miss me? Anyway, there’s a line of clouds moving in and based on that and the wave height I might be in for a bitch of a storm. My luck it will be Hurricane Charlene.
Speaking of busting my ass, I spent yesterday afternoon and early evening playing Sir Edmund Hillary. This island apparently has a volcanic history and an impressive little mountain range no bigger than it is. If I had paid attention in my world geography class that might mean something. I’m reasonably sure that means that I’m in the Pacific, but I know that’s where I was when I was boarded so that isn’t much help. Of course since I don’t have a boat it’s all rather moot.
Anyway, back to the volcanoes. They’re extinct as fair as I can tell and covered in an abundance of vegetation. I’m sure some of it’s edible, but I’m equally sure that some of it’s poisonous and I have enough food for now. I got to the top of what I’ll call Mount Moe. It’s the biggest of the three “mountains” and gave me a view of my kingdom. The island is roughly teardrop shaped and my camp is about two-thirds down the right side if the point is the top. If memory serves and the sun rises in the east then that would put the point at roughly northwest.
The crater is closed up and water has collected in it creating a small lake that I’ll guess is about forty yards across. It’s clean water and could serve as an alternative should my barrels run dry. There are no fish and in fact I haven’t seen any animal life other than an abundance of birds, insects, and a few lizards.
Mount Larry and Mount Shemp (I always hated that damn Curly) are second and third running south from Moe. I’ll give them a closer look as I get the urge. Near the point of the tear there looks to be a small cove. The air is so clear here that judging distance is difficult, but I think I could make it there in half a day if I followed the coast, maybe less as the crow flies. The vegetation in the interior of the island isn’t that thick but the ground is pretty rough thanks to the Stooges.
Things are so quiet here that it’s starting to get a little creepy, especially at night. I’m an old city boy and am used to the noise. There are animal noises, but that’s nothing compared sleeping above a Parisian street.
In the silence I’ve continued to think about what in my life has brought me here. It’s probably the first “vacation” I’ve had since I was a kid. I can be relatively certain that no one is going to arrest me, shoot me, or otherwise try to make my life interesting. I don’t have a gig to plan or a deal to make. I’d say that this isn’t really all that bad, but it is. I’m a creature of action and I need to get out of this place or I can be certain that I’m going to crack.
Later…
I went away for a bit, did you miss me? Anyway, there’s a line of clouds moving in and based on that and the wave height I might be in for a bitch of a storm. My luck it will be Hurricane Charlene.
© 2004 by Scott Roche
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