Saved by the clouds

Finally, old enough for an adventure, I'd had three weeks exploring the Brazilian coastline, stopping at a small village. I spotted a chalkboard sign for a boat trip and thought I’d give it a go. The condition of the boat should’ve warned me off, large enough for the 20 or so passengers but rather weathered, as soon as we’d set off the two crew, who looked like trainee pirates were throwing drink down their necks. A large American couple berated them for drinking but got a volley of abuse when attempting to get them to focus on keeping everyone safe. The resulting argument provided the added distraction causing the boat to drag itself over a barely visible cluster of rocks.

Passengers rushed from below deck, “we're sinking”. The single dinghy capable of holding 8 at a push, was duly launched by the young pirates and along with most of the passengers jumped into the water. The Americans were still on the boat, holding their phones aloft in the vain attempt to get a signal, whilst the remaining passengers ran around the boat like headless chickens.

Calmly, I sauntered up to the cabin, unbelievably the lifejackets for such an event were still in their box. A screaming mother ran in, I pointed out the lifejackets and she grabbed four and darted back to her screaming kids. I threw out some for the Americans and as the boat sagged to its side my inspection gathered pace. I found a baseball bat, no doubt the chosen protection from unruly passengers. The nose of the boat started taking on water at an increased rate and another wooden handle appeared. I pulled it to reveal an axe, it was a little on the heavy side for me. It was time to move, I quickly removed my backpack and tied it to a life jacket, shoving my find inside and hastily putting on a lifejacket.    

Standing on the side of the boat with everyone else flailing about by the dinghy, I figured I'd be better off alone. I’d seen an island about 10 mins before the commotion and decided to head towards it. I’m a strong swimmer but pushing my backpack along meant I wasn’t making much headway. Glancing back the boat and the dinghy were nowhere in sight. After about an hour, the island was in view. The tall trees providing a focal point through the waves boosting to my confidence, but no matter how hard I swam, It didn’t appear to be getting any closer.

Exhausted, I held on to my backpack as the sea bobbed me about. The sun was already heading for the horizon. I knew if I lost sight of the island, I would likely perish at sea that very night. I took off my life jacket and hoodie tying them to my backpack. I was colder, but now I could swim with both arms free and make more progress. Despite the exhaustion, I needed to maintain a strong pace as the sun was falling to the horizon.

The sun touched the ocean and sank away leaving a dimming night sky, as my heart continued to burst out of my chest. The island was getting nearer, yet slowly disappearing. Swimming is easier with swim lanes, I was losing direction. I corrected again as the island faded from view. 

My saving grace was the noise from a helicopter, I was sure to be rescued. I stopped swimming and waved but to no avail, the lights, however, twinkled a glimpse of the island. I'd nearly swum past, without the helicopter, I would've been swimming till the sea took me. A new surge of energy and warmth pulled me back on course and my hand finally touched the sand.

After making my way to the trees, I was full of pride, I’d made it, life never felt so exhilarating. The adrenaline from reaching shore had given me a renewed sense of calm. I gazed to the heavens and the wonderment of the stars, reflecting on a trip to see the Northern Lights and how the star-filled sky had impressed me more than the purply green hue. Staring into the stars held me for a few minutes before a cold breeze pulled me back into my reality.

I shivered, teeth chattering, trembling at my reality. I wasn’t safe, I was lost and worried I’d not make it to the morning. My head throbbed with pain as I searched deep into my backpack, a half a bottle of water was duly dispatched past my parched dry lips. It helped, but my body was screaming for gallons of the stuff, not merely a small quench of life-sustaining water. A grain bar which was sealed and not drenched like the rest of my stuff also helped, however, the dryness called for more water which I didn’t have.

People say they like to be alone, but not like this. When all's quiet and the only sound you can hear is gentle lapping of water on the beach it's usually the most peaceful of moments. I'd have loved to hear people talking, laughing or even arguing.

I stood to try and stop the shivering but stumbled against a tree which scraped the skin from my arm. Ignoring the pain, I steadied myself and grabbed at the leaves on the trees, making piles on the floor, eventually enough to lie on with my life jacket and damp clothes over me. My body took me to a weary sleep potentially my last as I cuddled the baseball bat as if it was my last friend. I must have slept for a couple of hours before some rustling awoke me. I swung the baseball bat around knocking into the tree, I heard scuttling feet flee before I rested down with the adrenaline once again providing the warmth to sustain me through the night. I didn’t get back to sleep every little sound in the distance sharpening my survival instinct. It helped, a resting body without warmth, water or energy can easily ebb away but the morning thankfully started to rise.

The sun rose and warmth slowly returned to my body. Yet with heavy clouds closing in, it was to be short-lived but what they were bringing would also keep me alive. My arm was stinging, small shards of bark had embedded themselves into my skin following my stumble in the night. I knew I had to get them out so waded out into the shallows and pulled at each painful intrusion, my arm bleeding again, but I was able to swill it in the ocean. Out the corner of my eye, I spotted a shark approaching and I tried to dart back to shore only to gain a mouthful of sand and saltwater as I face planted the swash. I froze awaiting the deadly moment of jaws ripping through my flesh. The feeling thankfully didn’t arrive and as I regained my feet with no shark in sight.

Once back on the shore to my resting place, I rifled through my bag and tore a tee shirt to bandage my arm. As the sky darkened and the rain came, a gap in the canopy gave a trickling shower. My head gaining comfort beneath it, swilling my face and clearing some of the grittiness in my mouth, before savouring the pure nectar of freshwater sliding down my gravelly throat. With my desperate thirst thankfully quenched, I reached into my backpack for a plastic bag, commonly known as an environmental hazard. It was invaluable to me as I tied it beneath a hole in the canopy to catch the rain, amazingly it was soon filling with life-sustaining water. I filled my bottle and a large sandwich tub. I’d considered throwing it when I’d finished the heap of sandwiches Mom had packed me off with but held onto it when I remembered her words “Be Safe and make sure you bring my tub back with you”, a good decision despite having the bulky thing half filling his backpack for nearly four weeks.

Having been fully watered, I further inspected of every pocket of my backpack, there was no food, but I did find the swiss army knife my Dad gave me for my last birthday. I hadn’t packed it, he must have sneaked it into the internal pocket the night before I set off. The sight of them waving me off at the station. I thought I was all grown up and ready to explore but right now I wanted nothing more than to be in my mothers’ arms.

Hunger pains snapped me out of my dejection. I wiped my eyes and as I stood with great purpose my legs screamed with pain and the giddiness in my head urged me down to compose myself and stand more slowly. I placed a life jacket on a tree as my marker and wore the other for protection in case I fell again.

The fear of getting lost in the dense bushes and trees caused me to repeatedly check sight of the life jacket at my base point. Fortunately, I came across a bush fully laden with berries, they looked like blackberries but given my location, I didn’t trust my mind. I looked under a rock and a centipede quickly crawled away into the undergrowth. Looking at the other bugs on show, I tentatively tried a blackberry. The sweet taste sensation burst into my parched mouth, saliva drenching my mouth as a rush of energy filled me.

I had my fill of berries, but I stopped short of overindulging with the memory of a strawberry picking episode and the following chronic gut pain. The Berries helped but still weary I considered resting on the beach as the heat came through. As much as the warmth of the sun helped me, the cold coming at night was more of a concern. I returned to my base point and spread my damp clothes out to dry before taking a walk up the beach, maybe I had neighbours. After walking for a while, my excitement soared only to realise the sign of life I’d spotted was my own clothes and life jacket hung in my tree. Despite the realisation, I was all alone, I did feel a degree of comfort as I returned to my pad. I picked a few more berries to boost my flagging energy and I was ready for my next challenge.

A fire would surely increase my chances of being rescued and at the very least keep me warm through the night. I looked at the axe, it looked four times larger than when I took it off the boat but collecting little twigs wasn’t going to sustain it through the night. I understood the small energy boost from the berries wouldn’t last long and with my water almost gone, the night was going to give me some more challenges.

Lifting the end of the wooden handle the axe seemed magnetized to the beach and didn’t want to budge, I’d imagined swinging it manfully chopping through the trees and creating a woodpile, reality checked me somewhat and after an almighty struggle I managed to swing it, more like a hammer throw in the Olympics than a powerful lumberjack but with a few hits I began to make some headway and dragged some small trunks and their branches back to my makeshift pad. Exhausted, I rested on the beach and set about making use of my swiss army knife to create some tinder and a makeshift hand drill to get the fire started.

The simplicities of life like switching on the gas hob or putting the kettle on is such a simple task, yet starting a fire, the basic human task from the stone age has been lost as we lounge back, flicking through tv channels or playing computer games. I'd seen survival programmes and scoffed at the pitiful moaning for such a simple task. I take it all back, lighting the fire, then re-lighting it before finally getting a flame worthy of the name, took me around four hours. My hands were raw but as the heat of the day sizzled on the horizon, I finally had some heat, the smoke I wanted to generate for a help signal was too late though as I faced another night on the island.

Despite the pride of getting the fire going, finishing the last of my water took me straight back down again. The clouds and the rain which saved me before were nowhere as the stars and moon shone brightly. I settled down with the warmth of the fire close enough to reach my pad. The larger leaves I’d collected, and dry clothes made my bed significantly better for my second night under the stars. My eyes were heavy and despite the shards in my arid throat, I was able to sleep. My mind, however, played me a dance as knives landed aside me as I wriggled to avoid them, until I was dragged away by monkeys who ridiculed and teased me, before confusingly throwing water at me. The water was the rain which had arrived to waken me. My throat was immediately drawn to a gap in the canopy and I was able to receive the cooling, soothing water for my burning throat. My stomach was soon full of its life-giving force. Once satisfied, I filled my bottle and the tub to get me through another day and I was ready to get back to my pad.

As the sun rose and hit me in the eyes, I slowly got to my feet taking in the blue skies so many people fly out for. Either, I go deeper into the bushes and trees to find more food to sustain me or make a big fire to attract more attention, despite my growing hunger I decided all the sun worshipers staring at the beautiful sky may notice smoke in the distance. I managed to put the axe on my shoulder and chop away at the branches, dragging them to the sun-warmed embers from the previous night and with some new tinder I managed to get a fire going again. I piled the wood higher and the blaze grew, some of the branches were fresh and were producing a strong stream of smoke to be seen for miles but it was burning too quickly.

The smoke calling for help was important but the thought of it not keeping me warm when the sun went down drove me into the bushes to chop more wood. The wind had changed direction and a cloud of smoke began to surround me. The route back to my pad had been replaced with a dense fog. The edge of the bush was on fire and it was heading my way. The path back to the beach was unclear, so I faced a race to beat the fire to the other side of the island.

Adrenaline surged through my veins giving me the energy to stay ahead of the encroaching flames, until an almighty wave struck me from above, dousing the encroaching flames, I continued to hastily make my way towards the other side of the island, a humming noise getting louder as I finally made it to the beach, as the plane delivered its payload, another large wave dousing the blaze.

My safety was confirmed, I saw a patrol boat approaching, I waved my arms, but they'd already been alerted and when they made shore they pointed guns at me before dragging my weary body aboard. Once back on land, I was placed in a cell, gladly with food and water. A few hours later an English-speaking official came to hear of my sorry plight and I eventually got released. I even got a lift back to the same village, but it was to be my last boat trip.  A memorable adventure, but I think I’ll stay at home next year.