Amelia Earhart

ba-boom. ba-boom. ba-boom.

I am engulfed by silence. All that I can hear is my heart pounding in my chest, accompanied by an intense ringing, echoing in my ears. The underwater current pushes and pulls me in all directions as I struggle to unclip my safety belt. Finally, it breaks open. I swim towards the pilot escape hatch above me, reaching for the handle.

Noonan.

I push away from the escape hatch and breaststroke towards the back of the plane, where Fred Noonan was working as a navigator. Extra fuel tanks had fallen, blocking my path. I shove through them, to find Noonan floating through the water above the navigation panel. The side of his head his bleeding.

He must have been knocked out during the crash.

I can feel the air in my lungs fading, so I quickly wrap my arms around Noonan’s unconscious body and force my way back towards the escape hatch. Yanking it open, I thrust his body out of the sinking plane, then follow after him. The weight of the plane pulls me down as I try to swim towards the surface. Adrenaline courses through my bloodstream, making my legs kick with more ferocity in order to keep moving upwards. I can feel my insides tightening, searching for any remnants of oxygen I have inside. Above me, I can see the lightness of the morning through the water.

Almost there…

I feel faint. The movement in my legs begins to slow. 

Maybe Fred could make it. He might still survive.

I gather what little strength I have left, then push his limp body towards the surface. Everything goes dark.

~

Sunlight pierces my weary eyes. I can feel sand beneath my body, in my shoes and behind my ears. My surroundings look momentarily blurred, but they soon come into focus. The sky is bright blue and cloudless, resting above the vast ocean ahead of me. I’m on a beach. My muscles slowly spring into action as I try to stand. Behind me, the sand turns into stone, then into the grass. 

I must have washed up on Howland Island.

I brush myself down, relieved to be alive after the crash. My relief doesn’t last long, as I soon remember Fred and his injury.

Maybe he survived, he might be here too.

Looking down the beach, I can’t see any sign of human life. In the distance, there are many large rocks. I head towards them, trying to remain hopeful. As I walk, my brain slowly realizes my unfortunate predicament.

Your plane has crashed. All of your food and water stores went down with it. Your navigator- your friend, is nowhere to be found. You are alive on Howland Island, however, this island is completely empty and in the middle of nowhere. There is no way to feed or water yourself. Chances are, you will not survive this.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the despairing thoughts creeping up on me. The rocks are right ahead, but I still can’t see anything to suggest Fred was here. I clamber over each boulder, still searching, but I didn’t want to acknowledge what I was looking for. A bright light catches my eye. I look over towards the water where it’s coming from.

Something is reflecting the sunlight over there.

I head towards the light, praying for some miracle. As I draw nearer, I begin to make out what it is. My heart sinks. It’s his watch, laying on the sand, still attached to his motionless wrist.

Fred, I’m so sorry… 

~

A wisp of smoke swirls up from the piece of dry wood, surrounded by a small pile of little twigs.

Yes, yes, yes, come on… 

I pick up my wee mound and gently blow on it, nurturing my fire into life. A flame appears, so I quickly set it back down and add some larger sticks for it to grow on. After several minutes, I have a small blaze crackling. I rest for a moment, quietly proud of myself. My hands are covered in blisters and scratches, recognition of the hours it had taken me to start the fire. I reach over and grab the bunch of dandelions I had found earlier. 

It’s not the best meal I’ve had, but it’ll do.

I’m hesitant about eating them, but I have no choice. I bite off the first of the yellow flowers, expecting disgust. However, I find myself quite enjoying the tangy flavour, although my body is desperate for some water to wash it down. The sun slowly sets on the horizon as I munch on my dandelions. I can’t help marvelling at the view, despite my situation. The sky was like a vast painting, a wide array of colours spread across it. My eyelids become very heavy, begging for sleep. I nestle down on the sand and soon drift off.

~

The next morning, I awake when the sun is high in the sky. I am determined to find something, anything, that can aid me in my attempt to escape this island. I spend hours scouring the island, looking in every nook and cranny. Nothing. The day is already running out when I turn up back at my resting place the previous night. I lean back against the small tree beside my campfire, exhausted and annoyed. 

A loud thud rings out from behind me. I stumble forward, slightly shocked. When I turn back towards the tree, the whole grass bank around it has fallen down, revealing what seems to be an entrance into some sort of bunker. I walk down into it, my eyes trying to adjust to the sudden darkness. Soon, I can see my surroundings. 

This is impossible.

There is a small boat on top of some wooden planks, along with some oars sitting inside of it. On the side of the bunker are several boxes, worn and falling to pieces. I stroke my hand along the side of the dinghy, not comprehending my good fortune. Underneath my fingers, I feel some kind of design imprinted in the wood. I crouch down, to see letters labelling the boat.

T.P.B 

I have no clue what it could mean, so instead of figuring it out, I decide to get a move on. There is a rope attached to the front of the boat, so I drape it over my shoulder and pull the dinghy out onto the beach. Now in the sunlight, I can see that it is completely white except for a crimson rim along the sides. It’s in very good condition, strangely enough. I don’t waste time being confused. I gather up all that I have, which is only the extra dandelions I had found, then set out into the ocean, determined to survive.

The night soon falls upon me, but I keep paddling. Eventually, my arms tire, so I set the oars down and lie back. Millions of stars are twinkling above me. They remind me of a time when I was younger. My mother and I used to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, only to lie down in our backyard together, gazing at the eternal lights of the night sky. 

My fond memories are suddenly interrupted by loud voices. I sit up, slightly frustrated.

Wait- voices! 

There is a large ship, only a few hundred yards away from me.

“Help!” I yell out, though unnecessarily. The people aboard the ship seem to have already spotted me, as it is heading in my direction. It only takes a few minutes for it to arrive next to me. Instead of worried, helpful faces I had been expecting to look down on me, there are many fierce-looking women wearing large hats glaring at me. A ladder is thrown over the side of their ship for me to climb up. I do so without hesitation. When I reach the top of the boat and climb on board, there are a dozen swords pointed at me.

“Who are you? What are you doing on one of our boats?” one of the women demands.

“I-I’m Amelia Earhart, what do you mean by your boat?” I stammer.

“We’re the Pacific Bandits. We stored one of our escape boats on an island a few kilometres west from here. We weren’t expecting to be robbed.”

“I didn’t mean to rob you, I swear. My plane had crashed near that island, I had nothing. I needed to escape and I came across the boat, so I used it.” I explain.

The women glance at each other, before lowering their swords and turning away from me. They lean in towards each other in quiet discussion. Not long after, their swords are back in my face.

“We’ll let you live on one condition. Can you heal?” the same woman says.

“Heal? Are you asking if I am a nurse? If so, yes, yes I can do that, I can heal you,” I reply, praying that they let me live. My prayers are answered, as they lower their swords again. The woman who seems to be their leader reaches out her ring-covered hand.

“Welcome aboard, Amelia Earhart.”