Misplaced 2, part 3.

As the sun set in the ocean, marking the beginning of the survivors' second night on the island, they stood round a hole in the sandy soil at the edge of the forest. In it they had placed the remains of the plane's crew, who had died in the crash. In a way this was a recognition that they might be on the island for some time.



"We should bury the plane crew who died," Tom had said earlier. "When the rescue team get here they'll probably want to take the bodies back, but we can't just leave them lying around to rot or get mauled by animals." It was a recognition that they were not going to be rescued immediately, that they needed to think a bit further ahead.


They stood round the hole in silence for a minute or two. Ruth wondered what the others were thinking about. Probably not much sorrow for the people who had died- they hadn't even known their names. Probably most people were more concerned with their own future- how were they going to get home?


After a few minutes they filled the grave in and rolled two big stones over the hole to mark it out. Then, still quiet, they headed back to their camp. By the time they arrived it was quite dark, and the fire had sunk low. Sophie and Amy built it up from their woodpile- they were very proud of their woodpile, graded as Alex had told them from tiny twigs and scraps of bark at one end to large lumps of fallen trees at the other. Those who knew something about woodcraft couldn't bring themselves to tell the two girls that there was far more small stuff than was needed, and too little of a decent size, while some of the biggest pieces needed chopping up before they would be much use. Tomorrow, Ruth thought, they would need to collect much more.


They sat round the fire in the flickering light, eating a strange meal of crab meat with some of the edible roots Alex had found in the forest. The vegetarians- Charlotte and Patrick- ate only the roots.


Patrick had turned up just before sunset. No one other than Ruth appeared to have noticed his absence, and she didn't say much, except to ask if he was all right.


"Yes," he had said. "Are you?"


"I'm ok," she had replied. What else could she say? That she was as frightened as anyone, that despite the afternoon's activity she hadn't been able to put the possibility of being stuck here forever out of her mind. She tried to calm herself down. She had been in worse situations. But it still wasn't pleasant.


"Been exploring?" she'd asked.


"Yes. There's some caves up there, and I was trying to find where the bats were sleeping. It was amazing! You'll have to go and see it."


"Sometime, when everyone's not busy trying to find food," she had said, trying not to make the remark too pointed. Someone else said something to her at that moment, and she didn't see whether or not he had got what she had said. She didn't want to make him feel bad. But she was jealous that he had seemed able to escape the worry and responsibility that she felt so heavily. But that was how it always seemed.


"Listen," Emily said suddenly. "There's that noise again." The screech-howl reached them from the dark mass of the trees.


"We still don't know what's making it," Rachel said nervously.


"It's just some kind of bird or animal," Ruth replied. "It's nothing to do with us."


As darkness set in gloom was returning. The sombre ceremony had reminded them of their own close escape, and the reality of what might still be. They had been so busy that afternoon that they had barely had time to realise that they had still seen and heard nothing that suggested that they were being searched for, or that anyone had realised that they had gone missing. Fear was rising, and the horrible cries from deep in the forest made everyone jumpy.


Nick had been fiddling with the broken radio equipment again, but with no more success than the day before. It seemed that although most of the of the pilot's radio was not too badly damaged, other areas -Ruth was not technical enough to understand quite which- were beyond hope of repair, while others might possibly be repairable. Ruth didn't understand the technical details but she did recognise that tone of voice, that hopeful optimism which was usually doomed to disappointment. She knew, whatever Nick and David might argue, that the chances of their ever being able to broadcast an appeal for help were slim.


Even if they had been able to, what could they tell potential rescuers (assuming that anyone picking up their broadcast was able to speak English and understood them? They did not know where they were, and there must be hundreds if not thousands of little islands like this dotted about the ocean. Even once anyone started looking for them, it might be some time before they were found.


So it was in a still sombre mood that the maroons tried to sleep that night. Ruth curled herself up by the fire, her head pillowed on her arm, a cloak that had been part of her costume wrapped round her. She listened to the others talking, putting in a word occasionally, feeling a little jealous at those who sat in couples with their arms around each other. She said good night as some people drifted off to the shelter. The techies new improved shelter still wasn't finished, so some people would have to stay outside again tonight. It was cloudier than the night before, but it didn't feel like rain.


She stared at the fire, tired but not expecting to be able to sleep. But her eyes closed and by the time most of the others had left the fire circle she was already asleep.




The story continues...

Misplaced 2, part 2.

So in contrast to the morning, the afternoon was busy. In the course of it they explored from one end of the island to the other. There was the forest, of course, and by searching it systematically they found that there was plenty of fruit available, although some of it would require some thought and effort to reach. They followed the stream that seemed to be the only source of fresh water on the island from its' source in the rocks above the camp to where it met the sea, amidst a marsh where thousands of insects waited, ready to pounce on anyone who dared brave the treacherous ground. Further round the coastline there was a broad sandy beach of the sort that would normally have had travellers reaching for their bikinis and suncream.



But it seemed that Sophie and Amy's reaction on discovering this pristine stretch of sand had been to reach for long sticks. They appeared to be randomly drawing furrows in the sand, occasionally stopping to look at what they had done.


"What are they doing?" Rachel asked.


"I think," Ruth said, "They're writing."


They went down and stood at the very edge of the ocean, where the waves lapped their feet. From there they could see that Sophie was just finishing the 'E' of 'Help' while Amy drew the rounded part of the 'P.'


"We thought that if there were any planes flying nearby they might see it," Sophie explained, coming over to them.


"Maybe they will," Ruth said. As Sophie ran off shouting to Amy that the L wasn't tall enough, Ruth shrugged. "It won't do any harm," she thought. Anything that made people believe they were more likely to be rescued would help to keep up morale.


They continued exploring the coastline. At one place there were rocks running down to the sea and a series of rock pools. Looking into the clear water, Ruth saw several crabs.


"They might be good to eat," she said, beckoning Alex over. "And they shouldn't be too hard to catch." He nodded. "You two work out a way to catch them. I'm sending some of the others to collect fruit, and I'm going to look for edible roots."


"Edible roots?" Rachel said. "How do you know if they're edible?"


"You eat them," Alex said, grinning.


Ruth went back to the camp to fetch something to use as a net. She found some material among the costumes rescued from the wreck of the plane that would do, and a dented plastic container, also salvaged from the plane to put the crabs in when they'd been caught. It smelled faintly of petrol, and she made sure it was washed out thoroughly in the sea.


"You'll pollute the beach," Rachel protested.


"It's only a tiny bit, there's not even any liquid left," Ruth said. "It's that or pollute ourselves." She half filled the container with sea water, and then the two of them set about trying to catch the crabs. It was harder than it looked to begin with. The crabs scuttled around the rock pools quite fast, and even once they had been caught in the makeshift net, they hung on tightly to the fabric with their pincers and refused to let go and drop into the container. But after a while they began to get the hang of it and soon had quite a few crabs of different sizes crawling around the container.


"How do we know if we can eat them?" Rachel asked.


"I think fish and animals are usually ok to eat, so I suppose crabs are," Ruth replied. "Although I don't know if they'll taste very nice."


Soon the bottom of the container was literally crawling with crabs. "Do you think that'll be enough?" Ruth asked Alex, who'd come to see how they were getting on.


"It should be for now," he said. "Let's take it back to camp."


They carried it up to the shelter and left it in the shade. Nearby was a pile of browny-white tubers. Emily and Charlotte were coming back from the forest, carrying another large container of dark coloured berries. Following them were most of the others, carrying coconuts, bananas and more roots.


"Blue and black berries are safe to eat, white or red ones are usually best avoided unless you know they're all right," Alex said.


"You really are a survival expert, aren't you?" Emma said, reaching them and adding some more fruit to the pile.


"I'm not just a piano man," Alex said, smiling.


"Some say he can synthesise a bassoon," Ernest said. "All we know is that we're lucky he's here."
 
 
The story continues...

Misplaced 2, part 1.

In a contemplative fashion.

It was hot, very hot, on the island in the midday sun. The stranded members of G&S sat together in the shade of the rocks not far from their camp. After the shock of the recent near accident, some of them were subdued, the fear they had felt on first crash landing here had returned to them. The last of the plane's tea had been brewed and now those who were natural leaders of the group were trying to work out how best to organise themselves to survive. The others, including Ruth, watched and listened.



"Our most pressing need is food," Nick said. "Water we've got, thanks to this stream, and we've got some shelter although I still think we need to improve on that, but in this climate it's less important than if it were cold."


"And we need to work out some way of making contact with civilisation," Jack said. Nick nodded, keeping to himself his fear that the radio was irreparable.


"Keeping a fire going?" Sophie, one of the youngest girls, asked eagerly.


"That's the traditional way," Nick replied. "It'll make it easier for anyone who's looking to spot that there's something going on on this island."


"That means keeping collecting firewood, then," Ruth said.


"Is this the best place for a fire?" Tom asked. "Would it be better to build it at the top of the hill?"


"I think it's all right here," Nick replied. "It's well clear of the trees, and this ground's higher than the rest of the island. The hilltop might be too windy, and it would be hard work carrying wood all the way up there."


Ruth thought about the previous night, and the screeching creatures. She would prefer to have the fire nearby, she thought, for protection.


"It'll be easier to keep an eye on it down here, and see if it's going out. Otherwise we'd have to have someone up there with it all the time."


The island sloped uphill from its south-western foot, where the forest ran right down to the beach, to its' highest point, the hill behind the camp. It wasn't so much a hill as a cliff, where the rock leapt up almost vertically from the boulder-strewn open space where they had made their camp, with jagged ridges forming a difficult climb to a shelf at the top. On the other side, an even bigger cliff overlooked the sea.


Ruth looked up at the hill. Then she looked harder. She was sure she had seen something move on the edge of the nearer cliff. There it was again. It was a figure, a human figure. She was about to say something when she realised that one person was missing from their group. Patrick had disappeared earlier that morning. It would be very like him to go off exploring, oblivious of what the others were doing.


For a moment she was annoyed at his inconsideration of the rest of them. He should have been with them, helping. Then she tried to calm herself down. He had done his best to help them yesterday, and she knew he hadn't slept much. After what they had all gone through, she didn't blame him for wanting some peace and quiet to recover from the shock and stress. But still, it was a little mean on the rest of them.


Yes, the figure on the clifftop was Patrick. She saw the sun glint off his glasses as he stopped and pushed them up to rub his eyes. Then he started forwards again. He was very close to the edge. For a moment Ruth was afraid that he would fall. He stood on the edge, looking down, for some time, and then to Ruth's relief he turned away from the edge.


She turned back to the discussion. The others were still discussing ways to attract the attention of the world.


"We could set fire to the forest!" Sophie said excitedly. "They could see that for miles away. The smoke would rise, even if they couldn't see the island they could see that!"


"Yeah, but what if it gets out of control?" Jack replied. "What if we can't escape the fire ourselves? And if we destroy everything we'll be stuck with no food, no shelter from the trees."


"But if we were rescued we wouldn't need those things."


"It's too dangerous," Nick said.


"And what about the animals and birds here? It's not fair on them," Rachel said.


"We're not going to set fire to the island," Nick said. "But we will need to keep a stock of wood."


"And if possible find some way of keeping some dry in case it rains and the fire goes out," Alex said. "You can't start a fire with wet wood." The others nodded in agreement.


We've got all our tools and things from the wreck now," Jack continued. "We might be able to salvage a bit more stuff but not much. If the rest of you go out looking for food, a few of us can stay here and start building."


"We haven't sorted out a design for the roof yet," Nick objected.


"No, but all our ideas were basically similar. I think we can knock something up. I mean, it's never going to be perfect, but as long as it works."


"I guess we can always change it if it looks like it isn't working," Nick said. "Ok then."


"Amy and I'll start collecting firewood!" Sophie said.


"Oh thanks. Can't I speak for myself?" Amy, Sophie's close friend, asked good-humouredly.


"Come on!" Sophie said, jumping up and dragging her off.


"The rest of you can look for food, or maybe figure out what we might be able to hunt," Nick said.


"Or fish," Emma said.


"Does anyone know much about what plants are edible or not?" Tom asked.


"I know a bit," Alex said. "I did a survival course once. Of course it'll be different here, but some stuff will be the same."


"Well I never knew that," Emma said. "You've got more talents than we knew."

 
The story continues...

Misplaced 1, part 5.

   Everyone seemed rather subdued and tense that morning.  No one had slept well, being kept awake by thoughts and fears as well as more practical discomfort.  Most of them were tired and disinclined to do anything strenuous like collecting firewood or finding food.  But the supplies from the plane were nearly used up, and they were starting to get worried about where their next meal would come from.

   And yet the morning was practically wasted.  After that bright dawn the sky had turned overcast and grey, and Ruth felt that there was a storm in the air.  A few people made a half-hearted attempt to collect some more fruit but all that was easy to reach had been collected yesterday and it was difficult to know what was edible and what wasn't.  Besides, Ruth thought, they couldn't live for any length of time on fruit alone.

   She looked round.  Nick, Jack, David and Ernest were gathered round the fire, still arguing about the best way to make a bigger, better shelter, and drawing diagrams in the sand.  Some of the others were there too, listening but doing nothing to help.  Others were still sleeping, or at least dozing, in the shelter or in the shade at the edge of the forest.  Patrick had wandered off after everyone else had begun to wake up- she did not know where he had gone. 

   Ruth felt frustrated.  No one seemed to be taking this seriously, to face the fact that unless they were rescued today they were in serious trouble.  The longer they went without proper food the weaker they would become and the harder it would be to find the energy needed to collect food.  People would get ill and depressed.  If their rescue was delayed for any reason it might come too late for some of them.  She tried to calm down by telling herself that they had all had a shock yesterday, that everyone was tired and afraid and uncertain what to do.  But something had to be done, and done soon.

   She carried the armfull of fruit she and Rachel had been able to gather back to the fire.  The techies were still arguing about how to make the shelter waterproof and seemed no nearer to a conclusion or to starting work. 

   "It's just as well we built one last night or we'd have been sleeping outside," Rachel said to Ruth.  Ruth didn't comment.  She was trying to resist the urge to shout at the techies to just get on with it- something she had frequently felt during setbuilding sessions back in York, but even more now where more than the look of the next show was at stake.  She sighed.  Tom had also returned and was sitting nearby, obviously as uncomfortable as she was.  They exchanged a glance that showed they were thinking along the same lines.

   Quite a few people were now hanging around the fire.  Ruth could feel the tension in the air.  People weren't sure what to do.  They needed to be told, to be led.  But she knew that wasn't a role for her.  She was an administrator, not a crisis leader.  No one would listen to her, she didn't have sufficient respect.  She couldn't stand it any longer.  Leaving the others to it, she slipped away alone again. 

   She wandered away from the camp and headed down towards the sea, still thinking about their situation.  Bad as it was, it could have been so much worse.  From here, the sea looked pleasant and peaceful, but if they had been forced to land in the ocean rather than on an island, she knew that their chances of survival would have been much slimmer. 

   She heard a shout coming from the direction of the crash site.  A shout of fear, quickly echoed by a chorus of other shouts and a scream.  She ran back towards the noise.  Before she had taken many steps there was a huge crash.

   It wasn't until afterwards that she found out exactly what had happened.  The techies and some of the others had gone to the crash site to look at what was left of the plane and see whether any of it was salvageable to use in their shelter.  The techies had found some more of their tools.  While they continued searching the plane, Matt and Kat had taken a couple of saws and begun to test them on a nearby tree.  Apparently there had been an argument about whether their tools were good enough to cut down a whole tree, and Matt was determined to prove his point. 

   Until the tree started to sway, no one had noticed that the direction it would fall.  Afterwards Matt insisted that it should have fallen the other way.  Whatever, by the time they saw it begin to sway it was too late.  Slowly at first, but gathering momentum as the remaining fibres of its' trunk broke under the strain, it began to descend towards the fragile remaining shell of the plane. 

   It was Tom who saw it and shouted out to warn those inside the plane of the danger.  Nick and Jack scrambled clear just in time.  Rick, his arm still in a sling, had been stood between the tree and the wreck of the plane and was fortunate to be missed by the main trunk, although a stray branch did catch him on the head and cause him to fall awkwardly to the ground.

   By the time Ruth got there everyone was talking noisily about what had happened, in reaction to the shock.  Half a dozen people, Rachel first among them, tried to tell her what had happened.  Rick was sitting down, rather dazed, and Nick, Jack and Alex were looking at the damage the fall had caused. Where it had struck the plane the metal had been crushed and contorted almost through to the floor of the plane.  Anyone underneath at that moment could easily have been severely injured or even killed.  

   Ruth went over to Nick and the others.  "That was close," Jack was saying.

   "Matt and the others should have waited, or gone further away," Nick replied.  "But he wanted to prove his point..."

   "Without you guys we'd be in trouble," Ruth said.  "We need you if we're going to be able to fix the radio and get rescued.  But people don't know what to do- they need organising."

   "I think you're right," Nick said, as Alex nodded and Jack shrugged in agreement.  "We'd better get things sorted out."

The story continues...