Andrew On the Island

This is the first game post for Andrew James Pessarchick, whose character information is in The Character Generation Thread.

One of your buddies caught up with you and gave you a gadget he said you should try. It looks like some sort of USB plug-in drive, but he says it's faster than anything he's ever seen--something about "Scriff Inside" technology. You take it home and try it, and the thing is incredibly fast.

However, when you try to remove it from the port, you slip, and the drive breaks. There is a flash, and a surprisingly severe shock. The next thing you know, you are regaining consciousness, which is how you know you blacked out.

You are lying on your back with your eyes closed. You are immediately aware that you cannot possibly be where you were--there is bright, warm light shining on you, the sound of surf, and the surface beneath you is slightly sloped down toward your feet, somewhat conformed to the contours of your back, and almost hot.

--M. J. Young

My first thought is that I'm either dreaming or hallucinating, and having caught a few stray volts in my life I know for a fact that an all over hot sensation is a not uncommon effect from something as strong as a car battery. My second thought is that I might have taken more damage than I thought, and might be suffering from some form of amnesia such that I forget anything that's happened since the accident (thank you Memento).
Of course, the fact that I'm rather comfortable and not in any pain at the moment makes me think that something far weirder than that could be going on. Then there's the fact that I'm over-analyzing everything, and should just open my damn eyes and see what's really happening.
I proceed to do so, sitting up at the same time and taking in my surroundings.

OOC: to answer some of my equipment questions, a Zatochi is a Japanese single edge sword designed with a straight blade and similar in many respects to an English cane sword. The hilt and case are oblong rather than round and it normally sports a longer than average hilt. It can often be mistaken as a walking stick do to the smooth case adn lack of guard, but it requires a bit more skill to use since you can't rely on the guard to stop a blade. Unfortunately, other than playing around outside and with a boken (wooden practice sword), I do not have the skill to use it. I brought it mainly because I am rather attached to it and it is moderately concealable. My folding knife is a locking blade design that is only 4 1/2" long, half serrated and mainly a utility knife.
The tape would be black plastic and I must confess that I'm not sure myself what kind the screwdrivers are, there a set I bought and tossed in the trunk of my car. Matches are strike anywhere and small and sewing kit is pocket emergency style. As far as the palm pilot it's mainly for note taking but has a calculator, a few pictures of my family and girlfriend and a solitaire game.

You open your eyes and see blue sky with what might be steam coming from behind you, but far above. You are on a beach of black sand, with a blue ocean spreading out in front of you as far as the eye can see. The sun is to your right, well above the horizon but relatively low in the sky. You can glimpse that behind you there is vegetation, but it will require some twisting to turn around sufficiently to see it. There are also some dark stone outcroppings reaching out into the water, marking the edges of the beach.

Your possessions are scattered on the ground around you, in much the same arrangement as they would be if someone lifted your house, pulled the floors out, and let everything fall directly down, but nothing is damaged, and nothing is in the water (at least at the moment--it appears to be low tide, from the marks on the sand).

You also have a strange feeling, like you were supposed to meet someone. It is vague in two senses, one that it is easy to ignore and to lose when you become involved in thinking about other things, the other that you have no idea who you are to meet; but it very specifically points to your right and back, onto the land.

--M. J. Young

Well, first things first. Either this is some kind of dream/hallucination and I'll wake up eventually, or it is somehow real. In the first case I don't have anything to worry about, and in the second case I very well could be in some kind of life or death situation. On that basis I'm going to treat everything as real for the time being, since if I'm wrong I only end up looking foolish to myself.
Judging by the first look I'm on some kind of volcanic island, although even if the volcano is active (which I'm guessing it is due to the steam/smoke), it doesn't mean it is anywhere near an eruption.
I gather up everything I of mine I see around me and pack it carefully in my bag, changing out of my dress clothes and into my black jeans and olive shirt. Thankfully my boots are nearby as I don't think that slippers are proper attire for trekking through a jungle. While I'm doing this I take a careful look around for any unusual flora and fauna, paying special attention to anything that looks like bamboo. If I find any bamboo or anything like it I cut a 7 foot long pole to use to help poke at anything I'm walking into. Failing that I look for tall thin saplings and try to use my knife to cut through an appropriately sized one (for the bamboo I use the sword).
After everything is packed and I (hopefully) have my pole I start heading in the direction of the feeling I'm having. Oddly enough it's not the first feeling like that I've had in my life, and usually they end up panning out for me. Usually they involve something I've forgotten about or getting someplace I was at years before, but I've found it in my best interest to follow those feelings when they happen.
I'll continue into the forest/jungle/whatever until I either feel like I've reached my destination, I see some animal that looks not of terrestrial origin, or something that seems blatantly impossible happens. I am poking into any piece of ground I can't see and paying special attention to the canopy overhead, as I've read that many jungle predators like to strike from above.

Bamboo is the sort of thing that is fairly common here, along with banana and coconut palms and other tropical trees, ferns, and familiar plants. I don't know how familiar you are with such locations, but this seems to be about as normal for tropical woods as you can get. Cutting a bamboo pole is simple enough.

You change into your boots and pack up your possessions, and then head up the slope. Although the land slopes up steeply to your right, your vector is more across than up, so you are rising slowly as you proceed.

The woods are not treacherous, and you see no land animals. There are birds and insects, but only flying insects that you've noticed so far. The landscape changes, sometimes opening up either to grass or to bare rock (hardened flos, apparently, sometimes smooth and sometimes rough), at which points you can see the ocean still to your left, and some distance up the slope toward the summit.

Moving slowly and observantly like this, it takes about three hours to travel six miles, at which point you emerge into a more open space. Ahead, the ocean wraps from your left around ahead, disappearing behind a tall outcropping. There is smoke rising from this, but not of the quantity in the sky. There is also a man sitting with his back to you. You are about two hundred yards from him, but can see him against the sky enough to note that he is wearing green camouflage very like army fatigues, and that his left arm is ensheathed in something metallic. You can also see, perhaps thirty or forty feet to the left of him on the edge of this rock outcropping what appears to be a jeep, outfitted with a couple of mounted machine guns on the hood.

There is also the smell of something cooking--poultry, probably, on an open wood fire.

To the right, up the slope, there is a rising cloud of steam coming from the mountainside.

You are not quite level with the man, and cannot see the source of the smoke, although it seems likely that he is seated by a cook fire. The ground drops between here and there, and then rises steeply, although the rock outcropping can be reached easily from above. Between here and there there is a stream, descending apparently from the steam cloud and cutting close to the rock outcropping before reaching the beach.

The sand below is much lighter, but not quite white.

The sense of meeting someone seems to point at the man on the rock outcropping. As mentioned, it is very directional, and since it is pointing slightly upwards it is either to him or to someone in the sky beyond him.

--M. J. Young

I'm going to assume that the jeep with the machine guns is this guys, which means that he's probably armed with something more than a sword. I try to continue somewhat quietly towards him without going into a full sneak. I'll angle myself to try to get level with him while staying on his blind side and get near some cover while trying to get within 50 yards. In order of importance I'm looking for cover, staying out of line of sight, level and distance. Once I'm within 50 yards I hail him and get ready to dive for cover if he responds with a shot or a threatening gesture.
"Hello the hill. My names Drew and I'm kind of lost. I'm not looking for trouble, just directions and a clue as to what's going on."
If his response is friendly I'll approach while keeping my hands in view and ask him if he has a clue where we are and maybe if he saw anyone drop me off here. I haven't gone that far and I figure that anything coming in by air would have been spotted from this outcrop. I'm not expecting a lot in the way of information or help but since this guy is the first human being I've seen since I woke up I figure it's worth a shot; plus I seem to have the feeling that this guy is important in some way.

There is really nothing in the way of cover; the man has chosen his position well from that perspective. You can circle toward and below the steam source to reach and remain on his level, at which point you see that he is roasting a large bird on an open fire.

You reach about fifty yards, on a level with him and near the beginning of his rock outcropping, and hail him. He does not turn to look at you, but speaks as if he is not in the least surprised by your call.

"Welcome, Drew. I admit that I've killed more than my share of people, but I really don't bite, I'm willing to share this seagull if you're hungry enough to eat it, and I might have a clue about what's going on. Have a seat by the fire here, and tell me where you've been and what you already know, and I'll see if I can fill in any of the gaps."

--M. J. Young

I approach the man and take a seat in front of the fire. He seems friendly enough but I keep my sword nearby but not in hand. If it comes to a fight I'm thinking I'll loose, so I'm definitely not starting anything. Now that I've got a better view I examine him a bit but try not to spend a lot of time doing it.
"Well, like I said my names Drew. I woke up a few hours ago on a beach about six miles from here with black sand. A bunch of my stuff was nearby and I felt like I had something to do in this area so I gathered my stuff and started hiking. Before that I was playing around with a gadget an old friend lent me and when I accidentally broke it I caught some heavy voltage and passed out. There must have been something in between but as far as I'm concerned I passed out about four hours ago and woke up on a volcanic beach a couple of minutes later."
"I'm guessing that we're somewhere in the south Pacific, but other than 'Not Honolulu' I don't have the faintest idea where we are."
If he offers food or drink I'll accept, since I'm probably hungry and thirsty by now, and if he wanted to kill me there's always the jeep or some other gun, so why waste poison and food.

He laughs. It's a mix of irony and dark humor. "Right. The South Pacific. We might even be in a musical," he jokes.

Your assessment of his combat abilities may have underrated him. Now that you are close up, you can see that he has a gladius, several knives, an M-16, a very large gauge shotgun, an automatic pistol, and several other weapons, including something that might be a ray gun and something else large and heavy that looks like an awl on one end and a crowbar hook on the other and is about five feet long. Also, the metal sheathing on his left arm is very high-tech--more like a prosthetic than armor, and includes articulated fingers plus wires and sensors on the surface.

"Seagull?" he offers. "It's got to be one of the worst birds for eating, but it's the only thing resembling meat that's not seafood, at least that I've seen this week."

There is also a pail of water, and he dips a cup in it and offers it to you.

"Obviously this is your first time. Did that gadget your friend gave you say anything about having scriff in it? Well, it doesn't matter whether it said so or not--obviously it did, and now you've got it in you.

"I can't say that this is or is not the South Pacific. What it is is an ocean on a planet somewhere. The stars don't look familiar, but I've seen enough night skies that I wouldn't know one from another anymore. The day/night cycle is about twenty-four hours, near as I can measure it. The ocean is salty, but the stream is fresh and the flora and fauna are familiar, if limited. But you're right that it's not Hawaii. Probably never was nor will be a Hawaii on this planet. Welcome to the verse. You died a few hours ago, but you also got infected with scriff, and it carried you to another universe and put you back together again. It does that. It will do it again, and again, and keep doing it probably forever. You won't age, but you'll die; and when you die, you'll come back to life somewhere else.

"Yeah, it sounds incredible. You were kind enough to warn me that you were coming, even though obviously I could feel the scriff in you as you approached just as you felt the scriff in me that brought you to me. So I'll return the favor and warn you: I don't take kindly to being called liar or crazy by people who don't know better. I can prove what I just said, but you don't want me to."

"More seagull?"

--M. J. Young

"Just a guess, but the only way to prove something like that would be to kill me and send me to another world, huh? No thanks, already been electrocuted today, and I'd rather not explore the many and varied ways that I can die. I won't lie to you though, it does sound like something out of a sci-fi novel. Then again, so do a lot of the things that have developed in the world over the last decade, so who am I to judge?"
"So is that it? You just keep dying and coming back on alternate earth's over and over? I don't know about you, but that seems a little random to me. Not that I normally object to a little randomness, but this kind of smacks of destiny to me. I mean, we both get infected with this scriff stuff, which gives us a highlander like sense of each other. It also keeps us from ever permanently dying, so there's no 'there can be only one' thing going on. It definitely seems like there's some kind of plan behind this."
"Also, there's all the stuff I brought with me. It's not everything I own but it is the kind of stuff that I'd think would be useful to be marooned somewhere. Of course, I could be in a coma dream right now, but I'd guess you hear that a lot too."
"Anyway, thanks for the food and the info. Oh, by the why, you never did tell me what your called."

At this point I'm going to start thinking about shelter for the night. If it's okay with him I'll stay fairly close by without intruding. If not I'll move a couple hundred yards down the beach and try to find a place above the high tide mark but below the jungle. I'll build a lean to out of bamboo poles and palm fronds, using any thin vines or leaf stems to tie the whole thing together. Probably blow over in the first strong wind but I can start working on something more permanent in the morning.

I don't know about you, but that seems a little random to me.

"I was giving you the facts, or at least, the facts as well as we think we know them; there are some who challenge even these basics. If you want reasons, yours are as good as anyone's. Adams would say that it is all random. The Architect would say that God--by whom he means the Creator of his Christian faith--chose a few of us to make a difference in the worlds to which we are sent. Daniels would say that we've fallen out of reality into the world of human fantasy, and should do our best to enjoy the stories without interfering unduly. Bob Thomas thinks it's a drug-and-V-R-induced hallucination, part of an army experiment, and that the people you can feel are the other subjects, everyone else just part of the simulation. For me, I was the first, as far as anyone knows. I decided early on that what made the most sense of the places I'd been and the things I'd done was that Odin was preparing me for Ragnorak. You can take my idea, or take one of theirs, or come up with your own. I do know a girl who thinks she's in a coma, and if you challenge her to explain why you're real, she'll tell you that you're not and there's no way to prove otherwise."

Also, there's all the stuff I brought with me.

"Right. That was confusing. Adams sorted it out, as well as anyone. It seems that this scriff stuff that's in you--gold metallic liquid, conducts electricity faster than anything, found as waste material in atomic colliders and such--is the stuff quarks are made of. So it's really in everything--or rather, everything is really ultimately made of it. You've got extra in you, and scriff attracts scriff, which is why you can feel me, but somehow your ownership of certain things causes their scriff to be in tune with yours. That's why the stuff goes with you, and why you can sense where it is when you're separated from it. Oh, you hadn't noticed that yet? Well, you will. You have to relax, and the closer you are to it the more relaxed you have to be, but you can probably toss a coin into that grass over there--as long as it has traveled here with you and you haven't disowned it--and walk right to it, and pick it up with your eyes closed, so long as you don't hurt yourself getting there. The amount of stuff you take will increase, but if you want to get rid of something, you should consciously disown it or make it belong to someone else."

Oh, by the why, you never did tell me what your called.

"That's 'cause you never asked. Besides, I'm called hundreds of things by now on different worlds. Versers--people like us--know me as Michael di Vars. That's as good a name as any."

He has no objections to you camping anywhere you want, as long as it is not in his jeep.

--M. J. Young

"So, do you know anything about the island we're on, assuming that it is actually an island? The only reason I thought it was an island is because of the volcano and the lava flows, but if this is a different universe there's no real reason for it to behave like ours did. Actually, come to think of it there's no reason to believe that we're from the same universe. Damn, it looks like this whole alternate universe thing has it's own vocabulary requirements. And I suppose that time runs funny between universes too, doesn't it. You seem like you've been doing this for a long time but I wouldn't guess you being from anything earlier than the early nineties/late eighties. And since you said that we're immortal and all I figure that you've lived more than a few years as a Verser."
"Sorry I'm asking so many questions, it's just that this is all not just new but... I don't know if exciting is the word for it, but scary as hell doesn't fit either. It's just got me thinking a mile a minute and running at the mouth."
I get a concerned look on my face and have to ask another question.
"Is there a way back? I mean, as nice as this place is I don't see you picking it as a vacation spot, so versing must be somewhat random. Is there a way back to where you started, even temporarily? Not that I had the best life or anything, but there are some people back there who are really important to me"
I finger a ring on my left hand and look at him with some trepidation.

OOC: I forgot to mention the only two pieces of jewelry I own on my character sheet, I'm so used to them that I forget they're there sometimes. One is a steel pendent with the Japanese kanji for Dragon on it, held by a steel chain. The other is a Claddagh ring (Celtic promise ring. Wear it one way and it means your available, the other way around means your heart is taken).

Jewelry has been added to your sheet. I gather the ring is in the "taken" position.

So, do you know anything about the island we're on, assuming that it is actually an island?

"Oh, it's an island. I checked. This seems the most suitable camp location--fresh water, that steam bath up there, a good view of the western sky, high solid ground and sea breeze, a view of the ocean just in case there actually is anyone sailing these waters, and when that volcano goes, there's at least a chance that the floes will flow around instead of over us. Of course, there are a lot of terrible ways to go in a volcanic eruption, but on an island this big something's bound to survive.

"I also know that there's quite a bit of edible plant life, but the only animals are those which either fly or swim, and the flyers are easier to shoot than the swimmers, although probably the swimmers taste better." He rips off another piece of the gull and munches it.

"I have reason to think we're near the equator, that the volcano is active, and that there aren't that many other places to go."

it looks like this whole alternate universe thing has it's own vocabulary requirements. And I suppose that time runs funny between universes too, doesn't it

"Right. We call ourselves versers, as that's easier than saying universe travelers all the time, and even that can be misunderstood. We call the universes verses for the same reason, and traveling between them is called versing, or sometimes scriffing, for that scriff stuff that makes it happen. You verse out, you verse in, you verse. I guess we kept the vocabularly pretty simple, really. We speak of our home worlds, but as far as anyone knows, no one has ever gone back. On the other hand, I've been in a few worlds that were so like home it was a long time before I knew it wasn't. The Architect jokes about seeing the Azure Gate Bridge--I don't know if you find that funny, but in his world and in mine, that bridge was Golden, not blue. If that's all the difference there is, then you might as well think of it as home. On the other hand, odds are good that you're already there--that is, unless the person that was you in that world died, he's probably living the life you might have had. A lot of people have met their doubles. The Architect has met a dozen of them--rock star, Supreme Court justice, broadcast evangelist, even met Amy, the girl that would have been him had she been a guy. It gets kind of awkward, though, if you want the life that someone else has. I try to stay away from my doubles. First, I don't want to get them in trouble. Second, I don't need to be reminded of what I can't really have. After all, even if I could step into his life seamlessly, I'm not going to age, and with all the experience I've had, I'm not going to be that person anymore. You really can't go home again, even if you're on your own doorstep.

"And right, time. In some worlds, they travel through time, and that gets terribly confusing. I gave myself quite a scare doing that once, wound up landing in a world where I was recognized by people I had never met. Promised I'd never do that again. But time is completely independent in each universe, and when you hit the scriff you are outside of not merely space but time. You can land a million years in the past or a million years in the future, stay there a million years, and get back before you left. I pretty much lost count of how long I've been doing this somewhere after the third millennium; but yes, I left earth in the early nineteen eighties.

"One thing about meeting yourself. The first time it happens, you start to think that it proves no one is unique. Then when it happens again you discover that each person who is you is a little different--made different choices, had different experiences--and you realize that everyone is unique. It's a weird sort of paradox, but that seems to be the way of it. I'd say you'll find someone else, but some of us prefer to make the trek alone--it's not something to which I would condemn anyone about whom I really cared--so we avoid attachments. Others have married and taken their spouses with them--but no children. Scriff seems to mess up that part."

--M. J. Young

I look down at myself for a moment or two, then decide to deal with that 'no home' thing later. Preferably much later, while heavily intoxicated.
"Just a guess, but this new life of mine is probably going to get violent at times. Seeing as how your loaded for Giant and waiting for the Gods to start Ragnarök I'm thinking that your's already has been. Looks like that's it for good eating and letting myself be lazy. I always used to say that I'd get in shape eventually, and it looks like 'eventually' just happened."
"I've always believed that there were other dimensions out there and other 'me's' living different lives, so that won't be to big a change. I just never thought I'd meet them."
"Tomorrow I think I'm going to start exploring the island a bit. Maybe someone else has been here before, verser or otherwise, and has left some kind of mark. If not then I'm going to try to leave some kind of mark. Now I just have to think of how to leave it so that it doesn't go up in the next eruption."

Unless Michael has more to say I'm going to start on my shelter. It's going to be a lean to with leaves for a cover, and I'll try to find some palm fronds or some other big leaf to use as a mattress. If there's long grass I'll start weaving a few mats to use as a mattress, but I want to be off the ground in case there's any nocturnal bugs.

Later on I'm going to go a little bit into the jungle and start practicing with the zatoichi. It's been years but I did read a couple of books on kenjutsu and iaido (quick draw sword fighting). I know it's not the same as training, but at least I can get used to the way the sword feels and avoid disemboweling myself if I'm ever forced to use it.

There are plenty of materials for the purpose, and you get a lean-to and mattress finished easily enough during the day.

If I understand correctly, you are going to attempt to teach yourself the essentials of kenjutsu from your memory of reading a book on the subject some years back, and also of another "style" called iaido which is primarily based on a quick draw and strike concept. You have no training and no previous attempts to learn these, and no one has ever tried to teach you this. Is that correct, and would you add anything before I roll for whether you can learn these skills?

--M. J. Young

Heh, unfortunately that's pretty accurate. I have tried to learn them before, but never really got any training. About the only thing in my favor is that I have played around with swords a bit before, and have yet to actually injure myself.

I'm putting together some numbers--the way the "on the fly" system works, we have to pause occasionally particularly in the early stages of play to fill in the numbers that didn't matter immediately. This is one of those times. Your chance to perform, and thus to learn, body-based skills (including martial arts styles) includes your body best relevant attribute; that will be the best of strength, agility, and will power. I have your will power down as 1@5, which is human average. Your strength is listed at 1@8, which is roughly in the top quarter of the population. I do not have a number for your agility. Presumably it's not in the top two percent, or you'd have said so when we were creating the character. It still could be in the top tenth or twentieth, making it better than your strength, and meaning you are more likely to rely on agility than strength for body-based skills. If it's not better than the strength, then it doesn't matter yet, although it would be nice to fill it in.

--M. J. Young

As far as agility goes I'd say I'm more agile than average, but not in the top twentieth. I can do some pretty surprising things considering my weight, but a lot of that is using my strength too. I tend to rely more on my strength to get things done.

I tend to rely more on my strength to get things done.

That's really perfect, as it is the definition of how best relevant attributes work. I'm putting down a 1@7 agility.

Your efforts to capture the Kenjutsu moves from the book are not helpful, and after half an hour you set it aside for another time and shift to the Iaido.

You draw the sword so quickly you lose control of it, it spins from your hand and comes to the ground, slashing the inner side of your left ankle rather badly. It is going to need attention.

--M. J. Young

OOC: I guess that's my first botch. Teach my to practice with a live blade.
I take my shirt off and cut the sleeves off it with my box cutter, then fold one up to use as a compress and tie it tight around my ankle with the other. I apply pressure to the bandage and hope that stops the bleeding. I was wearing my leather boots which come up just over the ankle so hopefully that blunted the hit somewhat and the cut is manageable. If the bleeding stops I'll carefully collect my sword and head back to the beach to try and treat it more fully. If it doesn't stop or slow significantly I'll still gather my sword but then hobble to the beach and see if Michael will be willing to help me.

You are not making much progress with this; it's as if you can't figure out how to bandage yourself right now.

You get back to Michael. He's apparently not too concerned, but he looks at it. "I could try to bandage it," he says, "but I'm not a medic, and never had much use for healing and stuff--Odinism, you know, we fight through the pain. So I can bandage it and hope I make it better not worse, or we can hope it heals right without me messing with it. Or I can shoot you--that's a fresh wound, and if you verse out before it heals up, the scriff'll fix it, and you'll come out fine in the next world. It's weird, and takes some getting used to, but sometimes the best way to deal with an injury is to let it kill you. If the nice people of that world with the Owlbear hadn't saved my life, I'd probably still have a real left arm instead of this mechanical one.

"Anyway, it's your foot, you decide."

It's serious but not life threatening, as long as you keep it clean and it doesn't get infected. It will probably take several days to heal on its own.

--M. J. Young

I'll take my chances with the ankle. Hopefully it will heal well, but I don't want to just suicide out the first time I screw up. After the fiasco with the sword I'm going to take it easy with edged weapons for a while.
I'm going to make myself a bamboo practice sword for the future as well as making a bamboo fishing spear. The spear I make by carefully cutting the end at a sharp angle to create a point. Probably not much good beyond a couple of uses, but it will work as a fishing spear.
If I can comfortably walk on the ankle I'll explore into the jungle for a while. If not (I'm guessing not), I'll gather enough wood to make a small fire and go looking for coconuts. I'm going to be using my bamboo staff to keep some of my weight off the ankle, and will be changing the bandage every day over the next couple days. Since I didn't pack any first aid gear I'll have to cut up my white undershirt, but I wasn't going to get a lot of use out of that anytime soon I think.

The ankle is very sore for a couple days. You can get around on it, but long hikes are not in the agenda.

The spear is simple enough. I'm less certain what you intend by way of making the fishing pole. (Incidentally, should I list a 1@5 average amateur skill at carving/whitling/knife tool use, or is this something you've never done, or something you would rate higher than that?)

Firewood is easy to come by. Michael has a fire going on that flat rock already, although if you want one down on the sand, that's fine. How are you starting the fire?

With the bandages, when you remove them are you burning them, washing them, tossing them in the grass somewhere, or what?

Concerning coconuts, they grow at the tops of tall trees, and sometimes fall when they are very ripe. Are you hoping to find fallen ones, or planning to climb trees, or have you some other plan? I'll note this is also the case for bananas.

--M. J. Young

I'm actually just trying to make a fishing spear, which I'm not going to use for a couple of days until the ankle heals, since I want to keep it out of the salt water. Actually, come to that I make sure that the ocean is actually salt water.

I have done a some tool use with knives/wood carving tools, although I wouldn't rate myself higher than amateur since I've never make anything other than simple things with the skill.

The bandages I'm going to burn, and using Michaels fire is fine at the moment.

Coconuts I'm looking for on the ground, as well as banana's. Both will be good for right now and the coconuts that fall on the ground are supposed to be the softer, riper ones anyway.

I suppose while I'm doing the whole tool making thing I'll look for a couple different grades of stone. Since I wouldn't know flint if it bit me I'm going to be reduced to hunting up multiple types of stone and looking for ones that fracture neatly when banged at an angle. I'm looking to make myself a primitive axehead and spear tip. I know that I could probably borrow something from Michael but I'd like to try it on my own. My reasoning is that while it's nice to not be alone, at some point I probably will be alone and I'd rather not have missed a somewhat safe opportunity to practice primitive skills while I have a backup. Not to mention I've always wondered whether I could hack it on that show 'Survivor'.

Yes, the ocean is salt water. Michael gets his drinking water from a stream above the steam cave.

You do find enough coconuts and bananas fallen to make a decent meal, if bananas and coconuts alone can be said to make such a meal. The coconuts will require some work to open; tell me your plans in that connection.

There are not that many kinds of rock here. All of it comes from lava floes, although there are a few types. The rougher rocks are easier to break and already have sharp edges; the smoother ones are harder, but probably require steel chisels or similarly hard tools to make much headway. The sand on the beaches come from the surf destroying the rock over time, and there are some broken bits of both types if you search along the shore near the high tide mark.

The spear is easily made with a sharpened wooden point. I'll need more information if you're attempting to make a stone spearhead.

--M. J. Young

I'll hold off on the stone spear point for the moment. Over the next couple of days I'm going to try my hand at spear fishing. I'll wade out to waist level in the ocean and wait with the spear raised for the fish to get used to me, then try to stab one. If I'm lucky I can catch a couple and have some meat with dinner. If I do catch anything I'm going to share it with Michael, seeing as how he was nice enough to share his sea gull with me.

Forgive me for checking all this, but I want to be sure we're on the same timeline. My recollection is that you arrived on the island one morning, walked to Michael's camp, build a lean-to down on the beach above the high tide mark, then cut your ankle trying to teach yourself a quick draw sword maneuver. You bandaged it, gathered some coconuts and bananas, and then made yourself a spear, all before sunset.

You were talking about doing some spear fishing; I'm assuming you don't want to do this in the dark, and also that you don't want to do it the same day you cut your foot. Thus I'm thinking we've sort of glossed over the part where you get a good night's sleep and start fresh the next morning--which is fine, we can gloss over things like that if there's nothing happening during them and you want to get to the next day. However, I'm not certain how many days you are waiting before dipping your wounded ankle into the salt ocean, so I want to get a bit more clarity on your thinking of this timeline.

--M. J. Young

I'm going to wait at least two or three days before going into the ocean. Looking back, I thought I had mentioned it but I see that I did not. I want at a bare minimum to have a thick scab on the ankle, and will only expose it for ten minutes at a time. I expect that this will allow the scab to soften but not actually come off, much like showering with a wound. If it starts to sting at all from exposure to the water I'll come out and wait another day.

Calling your arrival Day 1, Day 2 dawns as clear as the first, but for that steam rising from the top of the mountain, and from the cave above Michael's camp.

Your ankle is healing slowly, as you maintain the bandages and limit your use. The food is abundant enough here that you don't have to walk far to collect more fruit of one sort or another. Michael is not exactly good company, but when the perpetually roasting seagull has gone too long sometime on Day 3 (between the two of you you strip quite a bit of meat off it), he brings down another, which he is cleaning when you return.

By early on Day 5 you venture into the water, and your ankle seems to be in good shape overall.

Have you ever been spear fishing before, and/or do you have any example or information on which you are basing your attempt to learn the skill?

--M. J. Young

I've seen spear fishing on the discovery channel, but not in real life. I know that the theory is that if you stand still long enough the fish will forget about you and start swimming around you. Then you jab the spear into the water, hoping to spear one. Since I don't have a barbed tip on my spear I'm going to try to pin the fish into the sand on the bottom. I'm only going out to where the water comes up to mid thigh, so that shouldn't be a problem.

You wade out into the water, wait for the fish to congregate. The water is warm, although the surf pulls at you some.

Abruptly you strike. The point of the spear deflects off the side of a fish as they all scatter. There is blood from the fish in the water, but it got away.

However, you've got the hang of this; you know how its done, you're just not very good at it--yet.

Do you want to keep at it until you either hurt yourself or get a fish?

--M. J. Young

I'm going to keep at it until one or the other occurs, or the sun starts to set. I am going to keep a watch out for underwater predators as well, since I know that the smell of blood attracts sharks, and don't know if there is an equivalent on this world.

I didn't mention it before, but I want to start working out every day. I don't have any weights but I want to at least start doing pushups/crunches and other calisthenics to get into shape. If Michael is anything to judge by, my new life is going to involve a fair amount of violence, and I'd rather not be the fat kid on the playground.

You miss.

You hit one, but with a glancing blow that sends it away rapidly.

Again you miss, and then you hit so hard you drive the spear deep into the sand--but no fish, just a bit of effort to pull it out again.

Two more misses, and then you almost have one, but it rides the tip of the spear and slips away just before being pinned against the bottom.

Over the next two hours, you miss nine more times, and then once more get the spear stuck in the sand, and after that miss again, and after that get another fish almost to the bottom only to have it escape unscathed.

You're appreciating the level of skill that native spear fishers must develop, and why modern fisherman prefer other methods.

You miss again.

Then you hit a fish, drive it to the bottom, and pierce its scales with the tip of the spear. For a moment you think it's going to slip away, but you press down, and penetrate it sufficiently that you can pull it out of the water.

It's not dead, but the spear has passed through it, and it flaps and shakes on the end of its skewer. If it falls off, it might escape, which seems to be its intent.

--M. J. Young

I'm going to use my utility knife to kill it while it's pinned. I'll have to find a way to make a barbed spear head with what I have available, but at least I should hopefully be able to provide dinner tonight.

I'm going to spend the rest of the day exploring the island now that my leg is feeling better. I'm mainly looking for things I can use to improve my situation here (thin vines or anything that can be used as cords, stone already fractured to provide an axehead, wood soft enough to carve but hard enough to take a point). If nothing interesting happens I'll try spear fishing again tomorrow then start working on a hut, rather than a lean to. If nothing interesting happens I'll describe my plans for the hut next post.

You kill the fish. I think you were planning to do more with it than just catch it and kill it, but you haven't said what you'll do with it next.

There are places on the island where vines grow, as well as where there is loose rock (mostly near the water or around the cone). There are various types of trees, but mostly soft wood palms and bamboo. One of the hardest materials that is not rock here is the shells of the coconuts. There are also ferns and grasses.

--M. J. Young

Actually, yes, I wanted to cook it. Sorry about that, got ahead of myself.

I want to find a large, somewhat flat piece of rock and some large leaves. I'll clean and gut the fish, then cut it in half and each half then gets wrapped in a leaf. The rock goes at the edge of the fire and after letting it heat up I put the fish on top of the rock. They should cook there and the leaves should keep them from getting dry, but it's going to take a while. I've actually done this before while camping, so I know it should take an hour or so for the fish to be done, depending on the size. By the way, how big was it?

The fish is larger than pretty much anything you usually see in rivers and lakes, but not so big as, say, tuna. It's probably close to two feet long, six inches top to bottom, and a good three or four inches thick. It will take a fairly large rock even after it's beheaded and such.

You find it all goes quite well--not that you've got a gourmet meal in such primitive conditions, but that you manage to clean and cook your fish without any complications, well cooked but not overdone. As you say, it takes over an hour to do it this way, but you're not starving despite the stomach growls induced by the smell of broiling seafood.

I think you intended to share it with Michael? Or am I getting ahead of you?

--M. J. Young

Hey, he shared his seagull, of course I'm going to share the fish. Besides, I couldn't eat it all even if I wanted to.

After dinner I'll gather vines and long grass until it gets dark. The next day I fish again and then start gathering bamboo. I want to create a raised platform to sleep on, using bamboo lashed together with woven grass cords and vines. I also want to cover it with woven grass mats, but expect that this project will take several days to complete.

Michael gives the fish a strange look, but then accepts your offer and eats a fair amount of it.

What are you doing with the vines and grass that you gather?

You sleep well and comfortably. The temperature drops into the low seventies, and your shelter traps some of your warmth and that of the sand within. It is daylight by the time you awaken; you are apparently on the western shore, as you are within the shadow of the mountain.

I should ask whether you changed your clothes to sleep.

You spend four hours fishing the next day and catch nothing.

You do gather quite a bit of bamboo and such.

--M. J. Young

I don't change my clothes to sleep but do change them in the morning. The next morning I'm going to wear my black jeans and red t-shirt, along with a change of underwear and socks. I don't really have whole lot of choice as far as washing them as of yet, as I don;t want to pollute our drinking water and slat water is just going to make them stink worse than sweat, but I hope to find a second fresh water pool or stream during my explorations.

As far as the grass and vines I'm going to use them to help build a more permanent shelter. I want to construct a raised platform using eight bamboo posts made by strapping four pieces of bamboo together with vines as each post. Four will go to the corners and be about six to eight feet tall, the other four will be shorter support pillars and will only by a foot or so long. The platform itself I'm making eight feet long and four wide, and it will also be attatched to the four corner posts with vines. I'll cut the back posts to four feet tall and create another platform to strap to the top of the corner posts to create a tilted roof. The roof gets covered with palm fronds to thatch it tied on with braided grass strings. More grass gets woven into mats to use as a cushion for the lower platform. I figure this will take several days and am taking my time. I'll spend at most four hours a day fishing and four hours exploring the nearby area looking mainly for another source of fresh water and any signs of a previous inhabitant to the island. The rest of the time I spend working out and building my hut. I figure uit will take me at least a week to do the hut right, since I expect my inexperience to work against me quite a bit and want to make sure it's sturdy.