The Rescue

Sunshine burns into my forehead. The soothing ocean breeze flutters over my hair and closed eyelids, as if trying to restore balance, easing my parched throat and throbbing muscles. The silence felt like I was freefalling, interrupted only by the distant cries of seagulls, and waves, battering against the sagging ship. Being a typical Scorpio, I had always been drawn to the ocean.

I prised my eyes open, momentarily blinded by the golden light spreading across the sky. My joints felt stiff and achy, as I sat up from my makeshift bed of coats and scattered cushions. After a good stretch, I scrambled to my feet, half expecting to see a burly-sized captain with a white bushy beard raising the alarm, proud of his reassuring voice. But when I took a closer look, the ghostly looking decks were empty. I called out repeatedly, but could only hear my own anxious voice. Last thing I remember, I had just finished dinner and was up on deck, taking in the view, when all of a sudden there was an almighty crash. I don’t remember anything else. Trying to make sense of what happened, I decided to investigate. The heaving sway of the ship made me feel nauseous. Feeling apprehensive, I trudged down the steps towards the cabins. Most of the doors had been ripped off, with a few hanging lopsided, with their hinges twisted out of shape. Venturing into the kitchen, the ovens, dishwashers and worktops had been torn clean out of the walls, with draping cables still sparking. Water began to flood out of the Engine Room and adjoining corridors. I then remembered that the ship had smashed into perilous rocks. Shaking, I ambled towards the dining room, spotting a white piano, flung upside down, with its black and white keys shattered across the floor. I surveyed countless broken chairs and tables, caved-in windows, with splintered shards of glass strewn all around! I then came across dozens of brutally injured bodies, huddled lifelessly together, a few others sprawled out onto the floor, some with missing limbs, their blood forming tributaries across the marble floor. The carnage seeping into the rotting debris of cooked hams, chickens, & deserts, floating in the juices of punch and wine. Already the stench was becoming unbearable, as I clambered back on deck.

Uneasy, I was again drawn to the majesty of the ocean. This time though, darkened shapes, streamlined and ravenous, began to circle the ship. A dorsal fin rose in and out of the water. Waves glistened with sunlight; while the hooves of hundreds of white horses thundered along the white-yellow shoreline. I could feel the light mists of ocean drizzle splash over my sweaty brow, as I clambered off the mangled shipwreck. Keeping my strokes strong and efficient, yet not alerting the sharks to my whereabouts, I swam towards the nearby shore. Petrified, I kept turning around to see if the sharks were closing in on me. I began to quicken my pace, when suddenly, I noticed a thin trail of blood oozing from both hands, leaving a tantalising trail behind me. I twisted my neck around one last time, but to my horror, three dorsal fins had now rose out of the water, heading straight for me. I could feel my heart pounding. “You’re nearly there, keep going…” I mouthed, heaving myself up over mossy rocks, jutting out before a small inlet. Just then, enormous jaws with dagger-like teeth exploded down, narrowly missing me.

Dragging myself up onto the rocks, I just lay there, heaving and panting for some time, before swimming the final stretch. The ocean had changed to folds of silken violet, and then to purple pulsations, where small fish darted about in the shallow depths. Baby turtles clambered onto the rocks behind me, but soon disappeared into the darkening abyss. By now, the bleeding had stopped. Fuelled by adrenaline and gut instinct, I swam slowly but purposefully towards the shore, too exhausted to glance back.

The sunset, like a bronzed spectre in a sky full of jewels, lit the way for me, preparing me for what may lie ahead. The reflections were other worldly, sparkling on the vast blackened ocean. I lay there for some time, sprawled out on this remote beach. Initially, I am filled with a great sense of trepidation and intrigue, even excitement for the adventurous, yet a dawning realisation unsettles me. For the lush lapping on the shore may afford little comfort, so vastly removed from our present world of computerised gadgets and creature comforts. In the short-term, it will require all of my intellect and creativity to muster up useful survival strategies. It is the long haul that will inevitably test my resolve to the limit!

I scan the vast ocean horizon for any signs of vessels. Instinct told me that ships or boats are unlikely to pass these quarters. Instead, I survey the land, watching every shadow and rustling branch. If I don’t get rescued soon, I would have to build my own shelter. I would need to make clothes and tools to fish, and hunt animals for food. I would also have to find a reliable source of water, while being fully receptive to poisonous vegetation, natural disasters, and any number of wild beasts roaming around these secluded parts. At this very moment somebody or something may be watching me, even as I scribble down this story nobody may ever read. Any number of tribes on this island may prove to be unfriendly. Worst still, they may turn out to be cannibals. This delectable, yet haunting paradise, really is a million miles from home.

Carefully, I rose to my feet, edging across the sandy beach. In the distance, a grove of palm trees swayed ever so gently. I even imagined the sound of faint tribal drums. The air felt wild and free, but the heat was still clinging. Seagulls swooped low over the ocean. The last catch of the day. I could hear the waves lapping gently onto the sandy beach. A fading light gave way to a darkening landscape.

I lay on soft vegetation in between two tree stumps, when all of a sudden, a ghostly-looking figure approached me. Transfixed, I finally scrambled to my feet, and found myself face to face with a slim bearded man, wearing a cap.

“Please! Don’t be alarmed. I’m Captain Sellers, of the Betzy Bezz.” He remarked, with a hoarse voice.

“Oh! Thank goodness. My name’s Tony. I thought I was the only survivor.”

“Just the two of us I’m afraid, Tony. The rest perished in the shipwreck!”

“Oh my God, there was carnage everywhere. We must have hit the rocks!”

“Aye, Tony, we did, and by some stroke of fortune, we’re still here.”

“We had a lucky escape, Captain.”

“Well, we’re not out of the woods, yet!”

“What does that mean?”

“Quick, Tony, this way!”

“Where are we going, Captain?”

“I’ll explain on the way.”

As we hurried along the cool sandy beach, I detected rustling in the nearby bushes, followed by heavy trampling, and finally, deep growling and high-pitched squealing.

“Run, Tony!” Bellowed Captain Sellers.

We sprinted like our lives depended upon it. Captain Sellers leading, with me right behind. I could feel the charge of a huge animal closing in on us. As we turned into a small pebbled inlet, I was so relieved to see a rowing boat, tied to a tree stump. An enormous wild boar began charging towards us. It had a powerful, bulky black body, with an extra-thick neck, a giant of a head with snarling snout, piercing orange eyes, and pointed ears. Menacing tusks curved skywards. Gut instinct told me to grab the nearest object, which happened to be an oar. I then struck it repeatedly around its head, snapping the oar in two. The wild boar barely flinched, as we hurtled towards the ocean. Roaring and snorting, it lunged at us, catching me with a glancing blow to the shoulder, dispersing jets of red in the shallow depths. I screamed out with the excruciating pain, but then a succession of arrows hit the wild boar, flooring the beast. Its mammoth-sized chest rising and falling, thrashing its head about, writhing and shrieking in agony.

The tribe were rushing headlong down the beach towards the wild boar, as I clutched my wound with discarded cloth, so grateful to be alive. Meanwhile, the tribe were dragging the wild boar away – grunting and whimpering.

Feeling exhausted, Captain Sellers and I decided to shelter away from the beach and woodlands, in nearby caves. All we could hear in the damp and salty chambers were drip-dripping echoes, and the sudden swooping of bats, flying out into the starry night.

We awoke early next morning, as the sun began to rise. Thin wisps of cirrus clouds floated on a canvas of sky blue; birds were tweeting high in the treetops, and the whinnying of wild horses filled the air. We used spears belonging to Captain Sellers to go fishing. Wadding waist-deep in the ocean I had come to love; orange, crimson and yellow fish darted back and forth, before we managed to catch one. After collecting sticks, I used my lighter to build a small fire, as we feasted on fish.

Feeling uneasy about another vicious animal attack, we decided to leave the island.

Quickly, Captain Sellers and I made our way to the small pebbled inlet, relieved that the rowing boat was still tied to the tree stump. After clambering in, we started paddling against the pull of the ocean. Gentle ripples felt tranquil in this seascape of green-blue. Instinctively, I sensed the rhythmic pulsation of currents, and the foamy surf exploding on the distant shoreline. Looking back, the island looked like a landscape painting. Yet even then, I was at the mercy of the open ocean.

Tony Gapper,

Reedsy Discovery, 2025