Chapter 15 Life on a Deserted Island Over the next few weeks, I worked hard to improve my camp.
It needed to be bigger to store all of my supplies.
After many trial runs, I made a table and a chair.
This completely surprised me at the time, for I was never much of a carpenter.
Time and effort taught me that I could build carve or make anything, as long as I set my mind to it.
The objects I created might have looked rough, but at least they worked, and that was far more important to me.
My days now had a clear routine.
I walked out in the mornings until about 11 o'clock.
These walks were for exercise but also for hunting.
I discovered some wild birds that I could eat in addition to the goats.
It was important for me to use every part of the animals I killed.
I used their coats.
I ate their meat.
I never killed for sport.
My powder was too precious and my conscience would have hated it anyway.
The days were hot.
After my long walk in the morning, I usually took a nap.
As soon as the sun would start its decline, I would make dinner and start to work on my various different projects.
I made candles.
I wrote in my diary.
I carved bowls for food.
Anything to pass the time.
On one of my walks, I was happy to discover an ironwood tree in the woods.
Such a strong wood, I said to myself.
I can use it to make a spade and even a grindstone to help keep my tools sharp.
Strong wood, indeed.
It took me many hours of chopping with my axe to even cut a bit of wood from the tree.
But the tools I made were indispensable to me and all my hard work paid off.
Time flew.
In the blink of an eye, I had been on the island for more than three months.
Then the rainy season arrived.
The climate had tipped me off that there might be a rainy season, so I had spent much of the previous months trying to build a better covering for my so-called tent.
It was fast turning into a proper building with walls, a door, and a good solid roof.
I carved shingles and then used palm leaves for insulation.
It still leaked some nights.
That's when I prepared to sleep in my storage cave.
From January to April, I fortified my fence.
The stronger it became, the safer I felt.
I made a number of other improvements to my house that season and soon.
I was as comfortable as can be.
My nights were lit by candles, my house was dry for the most part, and I had Shippy to keep me company.
I woke up one morning that April, completely surprised to find that some of the rotten feed I had thrown away had sprouted.
There were great green stalks on my playing.
I was pleased to discover that it was barley and rice.
They were perfectly healthy crops, too.
I remembered dumping the seed all over the place to empty out the bag.
I needed it to store my gunpowder.
Nature is certainly amazing.
I never would have expected the chicken feed to sprout up in my front lawn.
But now that it was there, I was very glad it did.
April was certainly full of surprises, but Not all of them were good.
One day when I was in my cave sorting out my supplies, the ground beneath my feet started to shake.
There was a loud crack and rocks started to fall down around me.
I was terrified.
I ran outside quickly.
The ground shook again and then again.
Then as quickly as it started, it stopped.
An earthquake.
I had read about them in my youth but had never experienced one myself.
Well, I thought, I hope nothing like that ever happens again.
I returned to my house and cleared out the rocks from my storage cave.
Even though the rains slowed down by May, a great storm followed the earthquake.
The morning after it finished, I took my usual walk down to the beach.
There was something lying on the beach and it didn't look like seaweed or the driftwood I usually saw down there.
What's this?
I said out loud as I walked over to take a closer look.
Why, it's the ship.
I spent the morning collecting all the pieces and carrying them farther up on shore.
Another keg of gunpowder had washed up on shore too, but it was ruined by the water.
Instead of returning home to take my usual nap, I spent the rest of the day trying to put the ship back together.
It was hopeless, though.
I decided just to save all the pieces.
Maybe they would come in handy.
It took me almost a month to completely take apart the ship.
By mid-June, it was in pieces.
I hid everything close to the beach.
You just couldn't be too safe.
Life on the island taught me many lessons, not the first of which happened that June.
Because I was spending so much time down by the water taking the ship apart.
I was there to see a turtle.
I was excited.
After months of eating pigeon and goat, turtle would be a nice change.
I had a delicious dinner that night.
For days and days afterward, I was deathly ill.
I had a fever and terrible stomach cramps.
My mind wandered as my body tossed and turned.
My nights were haunted by terrible dreams.
I cried and cried.
I missed my mother and father.
I cursed my choice to go to sea.
I cursed leaving my plantation behind.
But most of all, I cursed the fates that landed me on this island of despair.
Then it passed.
The illness left me feeling both unsettled and upset.
Why did all this happen to me?
How would I ever survive?
How long would I be here?
Would anyone come to my rescue?
My body was very weak.
I did not regain my strength for many, many weeks.
