46 comments/ 253882 views/ 111 favorites Island Castaways By: 1gearhead Here I was, boarding a plane headed for a remote island resort in the South Pacific for a two-week vacation. The odd part of this scenario is that I don't like flying, I could not afford a vacation, and I didn't really want to go to the South Pacific. So why was I here? I won the trip in a contest sponsored by one of the parts houses that I buy parts from for my auto shop. A dumb contest, as it was for one and not a couple. That part didn't really matter to me, as I was single and unattached. I wasn't going to accept the contest win, but I hadn't been on a vacation of any kind for about ten years and figured what the hell, I'd go. The flight to Manila in the Philippines was uneventful, in fact somewhat boring. It was a long flight and allowed me to almost finish the book that I picked up at LAX to read. Once in Manila, I changed planes to a small corporate jet to continue on to a remote island resort that I had never heard of. I understood that it was supposed to be an exclusive resort that was secluded and very private. There were thirteen of us on the flight to the resort, plus the pilot, copilot, and one stewardess. I could tell from the outset that I was way outclassed by my traveling companions. It was obvious that these people had money and were very used to being catered to and taken care of. I carried my own bag to the jet for the ground crew to load into the baggage compartment, while the others left theirs at the gate to have the ground crew move them for them. I boarded the plane and took my seat in the rear. I sat quietly and watched the others board and take their seats. There were people worth several millions of dollars sitting in front of me. Did I feel out of place? Hell yes, I did, but decided to not let it bother me and make the most of it. As we taxied out for take-off, the pilot came on the intercom and informed us that our flight would take about two and a half hours and that we would incur some turbulent weather about halfway into our trip, as we would pass through a tropical storm front, but he didn't expect it to be too rough. I settled back to finish my book as we took off. Once in the air, our stewardess started the drink and snack service. I sat half-listening to my traveling companions. I found it hard to believe what a demanding group they were. It seemed as though each thought they were the only ones on the flight and that their every whim needed to be attended to immediately. Oh well, so much for the rich and famous. About an hour and a half into our flight, we hit the storm. It became evident very quickly that this was not a typical storm. This was a damned hurricane. Our plane was tossed around like a kite. My traveling companions were complaining loudly. The pilot came on and apologized for the rough ride, but explained that there was no way around or over the storm. He was going to try to skirt around to the south a little to avoid the worst of it, but explained that it would still not be smooth. As he clicked off the intercom, a huge bolt of lightning struck the plane, the cabin lights flashed a couple of times and went out. The plane shuddered but kept flying. As I looked out the window to my right I couldn't see anything, as the storm was so intense and dark. Panic seemed to erupt among the passengers. I was concerned, but tried to remain clam. The stewardess put her serving cart away and went to the cockpit. She emerged some ten minutes later. "The captain asked me to inform you that the lightning has damaged one of the engines and we are currently flying on one engine. Please stay clam and we will be ok. I'll give you further updates as the captain relates them to me," she announced. Chaos erupted immediately. Several of the passengers demanding that he find a place to land. They seemed to forget that we were in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean and couldn't see a thing. I felt as though the jet was beginning to lose altitude, but couldn't be sure. The flight continued for another half an hour. Now I was sure that we were losing altitude. The storm seemed to be lessening. It was getting lighter outside, but due to the rain I still couldn't see anything. The stewardess along with the copilot came into the passenger compartment together. "If I may have your attention? It seems that in addition to taking out one engine, the lightning strike has also damaged the other engine. We are losing oil pressure in the remaining engine and as a result are losing power. There is no identified emergency landing field near enough for us to land. To make our situation worse, our communications and navigation equipment are also not functioning. It appears as though we are going to have to ditch the plane. We are headed toward a group of small islands, but there is no landing field. Please stay calm and prepare for a rough landing. Connie, your stewardess, will go over the safety procedures with you to prepare." With that, he turned back toward the cockpit amidst a gaggle of irate questions and outraged comments from the passengers. In a professional and assured manner, Connie began to go over the safety procedures for our ditching. I paid attention to every word she said. I figured that she knew more about what would help us survive than I did. My fellow passengers didn't seem to have the same attitude. Most of them were demanding, outraged, and in dire fear for their lives. Not a good situation. We were now losing altitude rather quickly. I knew from other water landings I had heard about that ditching in the open sea was very dangerous and that our chances of surviving the crash were very slim. The plane tends to break up on impact, and when that happens our survival chances diminish drastically. Once she had given all the instructions and made sure that all the passengers were tightly buckled into their seats, Connie took the seat next to mine and buckled herself in. We were going down quickly now, and I could see the ocean surface approaching fast. I felt the pilot pull the nose of the jet up as we hit the surface of the water. The impact was significant, and the plane felt like a rock skipping across the water. Then there was another impact much harder that the first. I saw trees out the window flash by. What the hell! The plane then spun and started to break up. Both wings were sheared off, and the cockpit portion of the plane was torn away. The noise of the crunching, tearing metal was deafening. The plane bounced and jolted and finally came to a stop. In a heartbeat, Connie was out of her seat and headed to the now completely open front of the plane. The entire cockpit was gone. I was right behind her. As we moved forward, we unfastened seat belts and started helping everyone out of the plane. My only thought was to get everyone out before the plane caught fire. There was some smoke, but I didn't see any flames. Most of the passengers had only minor bumps and bruises and could move on their own. One short stout guy appeared to have a broken arm, but could still walk. As we got closer to the front of the plane, the injuries seemed to get worse. There was more blood and more crying and more screaming. Connie was amazing! She worked quickly and efficiently getting the passengers unbuckled and out of their seats and headed toward the front and out of the plane. Her commands to me to assist her were concise and direct. The passengers in the front two rows had received the most severe injuries. We were getting them out of the plane as quickly as possible. When we got to the front row, we saw that the guy sitting next to the window was dead. The lady sitting next to him had several severe cuts on her legs that were bleeding a lot. We lifted her out of her seat and carried her out of the plane. Once out, Connie ran back into the plane to retrieve the first aid kit. She then began wrapping the wounds tightly to stem the flow of blood. I went back in to help the last passenger in the front row seat out of the plane. When I got to him, he was yelling in pain that his legs hurt and he couldn't walk. It appeared as though both his legs were broken. I hauled him out of his seat into a fireman's carry, damn he was heavy, and carried him out of the plane. Everyone was now out of the plane. Still no fire, thank God! It was late afternoon, and the rain was subsiding. We were all wet, bloody, and dirty. First order of business was to attend to the injured. Connie had stopped the bleeding on the lady's leg injuries and was now attending to the man who appeared to have broken both legs. The other passengers were somewhat taking care of each other. He had broken both legs between the knee and ankle. I went back into the plane to see what was available to make splints out of. I found some pieces of fairly firm plastic trim that had fallen from the ceiling that looked like they would work and took them outside. Connie and I set both his legs and wrapped them in the splints. We also set and splinted the youngest man, Tony's arm. We also set and splinted Brad's arm. When we finished taking care of the other minor injuries, we went back to the woman who had the cuts on her legs. One of the other ladies had a sewing kit she had picked up in the last hotel she stayed in, and we used that and some bourbon from the plane's pantry to clean the cuts and sew them up as best we could. It was now late afternoon, and I was exhausted. I sat under a palm and took stock of our situation. We had faired fairly well in the crash. The pilot had headed the plane in toward the beach, wheels up. We had hit the water, which slowed the plane, and he had kept the nose up so that it wouldn't dive in and some how managed to keep it straight without digging the wing tips into the water. We hadn't hit the beach too hard, but the plane had spun on impact with the beach and had sheared off the entire cockpit of the plane. The cockpit was crushed beyond recognition. Both pilot and copilot were killed. There were a few supplies and provisions in the plane, so food was not an immediate concern, at least for two or three days. As far as rescue was concerned, that was an open question. It had to be known that we were missing, but did they know where we were? How far off course did we end up? I was still afraid that the plane would catch fire and burn. I decided to get some help and remove everything from the plane fuselage that we could salvage. I recruited a few of my fellow travelers and started removing what we could. There was actually a lot in the plane that would help us. There were eating and cooking utensils, blankets, a good first aid kit, and all of the luggage that each of us had brought. We removed all of the undamaged seats, as they unlatched from the floor tracks rather easily. We had almost stripped the plane when we noticed smoke coming from the rear of the compartment. As we exited, the fuselage slowly started on fire. Within a few minutes, the plane was fully engulfed in flames. At least we would have a fire that night. The fuel in the plane did not explode, but burned in a huge fire all night long. We moved up under the palms and spent the night some distance from the plane in case it did explode. There were thirteen of us that had survived the crash, five men and eight women. Three had died. Our injuries for the most part were minor, the worst being the broken limbs. Connie our stewardess was our real hero. She had managed the whole situation very well, and thanks to her efforts we were in as good shape as we were. She lay on the beach near me, covered in a blanket. Exhausted, I was sure. Sam, one of the fellows that had broken an arm, was not far away, lying with his wife, Joann, who had suffered only minor bruises and abrasions. Sam and Joann were both in their late twenties, computer geeks that had developed some sort of software that had made them both incredibly rich. Sam was average height and build with a pasty complexion, definitely not the athletic type. His wife Joann was about 5'2" medium build, not bad to look at, in fact kind of cute, slightly overweight and absolutely no breasts. Just beyond Sam and Joann were Terry and Monica, two real estate agents who had made a lot of money in the LA real estate market before it dived and were on the trip as a reward from the company they worked for. Terry was a little cutie, 46 years old, a little rotund, shaped like a small barrel, with a pretty face and an effervescent personality. Monica, on the other hand, was taller, thinner, and not a nice person. She was near the same age as Terry and not bad looking at all. She was quite impressed with herself and a little bit of a bitch. The youngest couple in our group was Sophie and Tony. Sophie was a very pretty young thing in her early twenties. She had large breasts, was tall, and had a dark Mediterranean complexion. Tony was a year or two older than Sophie, strong athletic build. He was a real honest to goodness playboy. Never worked a day in his life and was solely supported by his father's riches. Unfortunately, he had broken his arm in the crash and was in considerable pain. The next morning we woke with the dawn. Most of us did not believe the situation that we were in. We had no idea where we were, or if rescue was on the way. We were in a very high state of limbo. We scrounged something to eat and drink from what had been salvaged from the plane. We were sitting around discussing our situation and trying to sort out what we were going to do. "I suggest that we gather wood and prepare a signal fire in case that we see any planes or ships," suggested Brad, our resident bank executive. Brad was a paunchy, soft-built man of obvious wealth and power. He was used to having control and was taking charge even though both his legs were broken. At the rate he was devouring our limited supply of Tylenol to control his pain, it would soon be depleted. His wife, Elaine, a 28-year-old, blonde, ex-model and obvious trophy wife sitting by his side, was basking in her husband's taking control of things. Several agreed and headed off to gather wood. Connie and I went to check on Becky to see how her leg wounds were. She was feeling very bad. The wounds on her legs were fairly severe and were causing her pain; in addition, the man who had died in the crash was her husband. This was causing her considerable emotional distress. As we raised her skirt to check her injuries, I noticed for the first time that she was really a pretty lady. She was in her early forties, slightly overweight, with large breasts and a very pretty face. As Connie inspected her stitching, I couldn't help but notice the tops of her thighs and the crotch of her panties. Nice picture for a dirty old man like myself. We tried to console her as much as we could, but I doubt that it helped any. She was pretty distraught. Arnold caught my attention next. The oldest member of our group and only a few years older than me was stomping around bitching about our plight. Fat lot of good his demonstration was doing anyone. His girlfriend, if you could call her that, 26-year-old Amy, was trying to no avail to calm him down. She was a tall; body to kill for, brunette that I would love to have calmed me down. I left him ranting around in his own anger. After a couple of hours of wood gathering and stacking the signal fire was ready. We all sat around afterward talking about what we should do next. "I think that we should bury those that died in the crash," suggested Terry. "They need to be taken care of, too." "Good idea, Terry," commented Brad "You guys take care of it." Connie, Sam, Joann, Terry, and Sophie headed off to take care of the deceased. We found a small clear area just beyond the tree line near the wreckage. Using some scraps of aluminum from the plane, we dug out three shallow graves. Things were pretty quiet while we worked at this task. We recovered the three bodies and placed them in the shallow graves. We covered them, and Terry said some prayers over them, and it was finished. Becky got very emotional as we finished. Connie and I helped her back to a spot near the signal fire and sat with her and held her till she calmed some. Not knowing how long we were going to have to stay on this island, I felt it necessary that we try to find a source of fresh water, erect some type of shelter, and see what the island had to offer in the way of food. "I would like to suggest that we break into groups and take a look around for a fresh water supply. See what the island has to offer in food and maybe think about putting up some type of shelter," I suggested to the group. "Fuck that, I'm not going to do shit. We will be picked up soon, and I'm not about to exert any energy doing something useless," was Arnold's reply. "I'm with you, Arnold. I don't see the point, either," was Tony's reply. "I disagree," Connie came back, "We need to take care of ourselves. We don't know how long we will be here." "I agree with you, Connie," came Terry's comment, "we need to look out for ourselves." Most of the others agreed. "Good idea, Jerry. You, Terry, and Monica go and look for water. Sam, you, Joann, and Sophie see if you can find anything edible. The rest of you see what is available to build some kind of shelter. Arnold, Tony, do what ever you want," Brad ordered. We all got up to attend to our various tasks. As Terry, Monica, and I started to walk off down the beach, I wondered who had made Brad king. We walked down the beach about a mile when we came across a small stream flowing out into the ocean. We turned inland and followed the stream about another half mile into the forest. We came to a large pool situated below a fifty-foot tall rock cliff that had a small waterfall emptying into the pool. So picturesque that it could have been in a travel brochure. The pool was about 25 feet by 30 feet and appeared to be about ten feet deep. It looked so inviting that we decided to strip down to our underclothes and clean ourselves up. We didn't seem to be self-conscious about our near nakedness and jumped into the water. It was cool but not cold. It felt very good and refreshing. We swam around and played for about half an hour. The waterfall acted like a cool shower and there was a small ledge that the water spilled onto so that we could stand under it. When we exited the pool, I noticed that both Terry and Monica's underwear had turned almost transparent from the water. I could clearly see their nipples and the dark bush that covered their sex. They didn't seem to mind my noticing and dressed without paying any attention to me. The sight of both ladies turned me on, and had it not been for the coolness of the pond, I am sure that I would have had a hard on. We had brought several one-gallon plastic juice bottles to carry the water back in. My only concern was that the water was good and not contaminated with anything. Upon our arrival back at the camp, we told everyone what we had found. "There is a stream that flows out of a pool that is fed by a small waterfall. It's beautiful, and we have water to drink and a place to bathe," Terry told the group. "It's not far, about a mile down the beach and then a half mile upstream. You can't get lost. Just be sure that you fill the water bottles out of the waterfall and not the pond. I don't want to be drinking water you bathed in," added Monica. Most of the group seemed excited about our find. In fact, Tony, Sophie, Joann, Sam, and Amy all decided to take off immediately to bathe. Sam, Joann, and Sophie had found coconuts and two different fruits that were kind of like mangos that looked edible. There were bananas also, and they had brought them back to where we were staying. The others had found a large stand of bamboo about a half a mile down the beach. So now we had water, something to eat, a place to wash, and some building materials. At least things were starting to look up. We could now sustain ourselves for a while. Island Castaways That night after we had eaten, there was a lot of talk about rescue, death, injuries, and so on. Not at all a positive discussion. It seemed to drive everyone into a deeper emotional hole. The next morning we woke, ate more of our meager supplies, and sat around discussing what we were going to do. Brad, Arnold, Tony, Elaine, Amy, and Monica were adamant that we need do nothing except tend the signal fire and wait for rescue. Connie, Terry, and I felt that we should start preparing for an indefinite stay, as we had no idea how long we would be there. Everyone else was on the fence and didn't know what to do. I decided that I was going to move down the beach closer to the bamboo groove and build myself a shelter. I wanted to have a roof over my head. "Anyone who would like to join me is welcome to come along and help," I offered to the group. "You can't do that," Brad admonished. "No, you have to stay with the group," Arnold added. "What do you mean, I can't go off on my own? If I want to go down the beach and build a hut for shelter, I'll do it," I retorted. "We won't allow it, I won't allow it," Brad shot back. "And who is going to prevent me from doing it? Not you, Brad, not with your broken limbs. Who else here is going to do your bidding? I don't remember anyone here putting you in charge," I stated. "Someone must be in charge, and I'm the most capable. You will do as I say!" Brad shot back. It was easy to tell that he didn't like being challenged. Everyone was very quiet; they were just listening and watching what was going down. I decided that the best thing to do was just keep my mouth shut. I walked off toward the plane wreckage in silence. I was going to look for something that I could use as a tool. I kicked around the burnt wreckage and found a piece of steel about 20' long, 2" wide and 1/8' thick. "This will do nicely," I mused to myself. The group was still talking when I returned. I walked through and kept on going down the beach. Fuck these people; if they weren't going to help themselves, I was going to help myself. I am still pretty fit for 62 years old, and I know how to build things, and that was just what I was going to do. I walked clear to the stream and then back into the jungle a ways. I found what I was looking for, a rocky area where I could use the rocks to sharpen an edge on the piece of steel that I had found. I sat my ass down on a likely candidate and began stroking the blade. This was going to take a while to put an edge on the piece of steel so that I could cut the bamboo with it. I sharpened on that blade all day, and it was barely beginning to take shape. I left the blade on the rock and walked back to the group. I went to my suitcase with my stuff in it and gathered up a couple of blankets and two of the water bottles. I also got a couple of forks, knives, and spoons. I also took one of the small cooking pots. I gathered up my things and started back down the beach, both Brad and Arnold's voices ringing in my ears telling me that I couldn't take things that belonged to the group. I just kept walking and didn't look back. I spent the next three days gathering food and sharpening my machete. I decided to build my shelter just inside the vegetation on the other side of the stream. I spent a full day cutting and hauling bamboo to my campsite. My machete was crude, but had a good sharp edge on it and cut well. I found vines to tie the bamboo together and soon had a decent hut 10' x 12', with four walls, a door, two windows with shutters and a thatched roof to keep out the rain. It had a 6'wide porch across the front to sit on, that the roof also covered. It took me four days to build it, and I was quite proud of it. While I was building it, various members of the group came by to check on my progress. Connie told me that Brad and Arnold were going on and on about how I couldn't desert them and they weren't going to stand for it. They hadn't mentioned what they were going to do about it, but they were not happy with my taking off on my own. I fashioned a few small bamboo shoots into spears and thought I would try my hand at spear fishing. For my vacation I had purchased a very nice facemask with built-in snorkel that I was going to try out. This purchase proved to be a godsend. I swam out about 50 yards and then dove under. It was beautiful. All kinds of fish inhabited the not too deep water. I got two the first time out. I went back to the plane wreckage and chopped out four pieces of aluminum that I could fashion into cooking utensils. With my aluminum griddle and two fish and some passion fruit, I was set for a fine meal. No one spoke to me as I returned to the group. I asked Connie if she would like to come down to my hut in about an hour. When she arrived, I had dinner ready. She was amazed. She devoured the fish instantly without ceremony. As an after-dinner drink we had coconut milk and sat by the fire talking. I learned she was Australian, from Sydney, married, no children, and her marriage was failing. She was pretty sure that her husband was cheating on her while she was flying, but had not caught him. "I'm probably going to divorce him when I get back. There is no reason to stay in a loveless marriage," she told me. "I can understand that, having been there a couple of times myself. How are things with the group?" I asked. " The injured seem to be healing ok. They ran out of the food we took off the plane. The coconut and fruit are not quite enough to satisfy them all. Nobody wants to do anything to make things better. Some of them are very bitter about your leaving and setting up your own camp. I would like to join you, if you will allow it," she told me. That last statement shocked me. I didn't expect that to happen. "I would like that. Let me build you a hut, and then you can join me. I wouldn't want to start any improprieties. You can help me." "Thank you, I would like that. I'll bring my things tomorrow, and we can start," she replied. Connie then left to return to the group. The next morning I rose early and went to the bamboo grove and began cutting more bamboo. It went faster this time, as I knew what I would need. Connie found me in the bamboo grove and began carrying what I had cut back to the campsite. Except for feeling a little hungry at times, I was enjoying myself. When I returned to the campsite with the last load of bamboo, it was mid-afternoon. The sun was hot, and I could tell that Connie had removed her bra and just wore a cotton blouse that she had torn the sleeves off of and tied under her breasts, along with a short skirt. She was a nice-looking young gal, and I appreciated the occasional glimpse of her pert breasts through her partially unbuttoned blouse. I took my spear and headed for the water. All I had been wearing were some cut-off cotton pants and no shirt. I waded out into the water and swam out about 30 yards before diving under. My luck was better this time, as I got four fish in a matter of minutes. I never was much of a fisherman, but somehow it seemed pretty easy when you were under water with them. It was almost like going to the fish market and selecting what you wanted. The water was calm near the beach with very little surf. Although there was no lagoon, just the beach, there was a coral reef a couple of hundred yards offshore that ran most of the length of the beach that calmed the surf. "Look at what you caught, how wonderful!" exclaimed Connie. "We will eat well tonight." We cooked dinner and eat heartily. It was nice having someone to share things with, and Connie was good company. After we ate, I asked Connie if she wanted to go to the falls and shower. We set off well before dusk. By this time, the path to the pool and falls was getting pretty well worn and was easily walked. At the pool I dove in and swam to the falls and climbed out to the ledge under the falls. The water felt refreshing, and I was basking in it when Connie joined me. To my surprise, she was naked! I tried not to stare, but without much success. She washed as though I were not there and then dove back into the pool and swam back to her clothes. She lay on the soft grass that surrounded the pool to dry. All I could do was stand there and stare. She was pretty with those pert breasts and eraser-tipped nipples. I swam back to where she was and asked if she was ready to go back. She dressed, and we walked back to the hut. By this time the sun had gone down, and the fire was a mere ember. "You take the hut, Connie, I'll sleep on the porch," I said. "If that's what you want, I'm not going to argue with you. Good night, Jerry. I'll see you in the morning," and with that, she turned and went into the hut. I slept well that night and rose early with the sun. Connie soon followed. After a breakfast of fruit and coconut, we started on her hut. We built it about 15 feet further down the beach, and I decided to make it a little larger than mine. With Connie's help, the construction went faster, and we were able to finish hers in less than three days. We were also to construct a fire pit between the two huts that was a better place to cook with the rocks we gathered up the stream. The fishing was good and easy. We had plenty of fish and fruit to eat and were feeling very good about our situation. I did notice that Connie seemed very at ease and comfortable around me, and sometimes when the sun was high and hot, she would go topless. I told her that I really liked it when she did that, and she replied with a girlish smile that she was glad. It had been two weeks since the plane crash, and we had seen no one in the air or on the water. In fact, I had not even seen the vapor trail of a highflying airliner. I guessed that we were somehow off the traveled routes, and if that were the case, it might be a while before we were found. Things were not going well with the rest of the group. Their food supply was not to their liking, but no one was doing anything about it. Arnold and Brad were becoming tyrannical. Tony was taking care of Tony and wasn't concerned about anyone else, and that included the lovely Sophie that he had brought with him. One morning I suggested to Connie that I needed to explore some more of the island to find out what was there and see if there was anything that could be of use to us. I would be leaving on my trek the next morning. I explained that I was going to attempt to circumnavigate the island first and then explore the interior. The next morning Connie helped me pack a blanket, some fruit, and a water jug, and gave me a big hug and a kiss before I set off down the beach. About a half mile south of the camp, I came across a banana grove. This would make a good addition to our food supply. I was hopeful as to what else I would find along the way. The beach ended about three miles south of where our huts were. The island shoreline then got rocky and curved around to the west. We had crash-landed on the east side of the island. This rocky shoreline curved around for about three miles and then headed north again. As I walked along the bluff, I noticed at the edge of the rocky bluff and the inland vegetation that there were some large lizards. The adults looked to be about two feet in length. I seemed to remember hearing sometime in the past that lizards were edible and tasted like chicken. What doesn't taste like chicken? I would need to come back here to get some of these reptiles for our table. I could not see any other islands in the distance. As the rocky shoreline swung around the south end of the island, it also rose to a height of about a hundred feet above the water. As the shoreline straightened out heading north, it dropped sharply onto another short beach for about four miles. As I walked along this beach, I noticed at about its mid-point there was a small lagoon, well, almost a lagoon. The deeper water came in closer to the shore where there was an indentation in the shoreline. I also noticed that there seemed to be a slight opening in the vegetation and decided to investigate. As I walked into the growth, I could see where larger trees had apparently been cleared away. As I walked further back, I came to a large cleared area where there appeared to be the remnants of five or six small structures and two or three rusted-out hulks of vehicles. There were two trucks and a badly damaged jeep. I suspected that this was a very small island outpost that had been manned during WWII. In the back of the jeep I found a shovel. Wow, what a find! After searching the ruins for an hour -- and there really wasn't much left of the buildings, only squared areas where they once stood -- I had found, in addition to the shovel, a real machete, although very rusted, and a rusted bayonet. I also found a very rusted hatchet head. I put these with my gear and headed on north along the beach. I had hoped to find more when I stumbled on this old WWII outpost, but was thankful for what I did find. At the end of the beach, the shoreline rose again and turned to rock, much like the southern end of the island, only much more rugged and higher. It was getting late, so I decided to spend the night. I ate and slept well. The following morning, I started off again. The shoreline seemed to swing west again slightly. It continued to be rocky and high above the ocean. After almost another five miles, the shoreline abruptly swung east and remained a high bluff above the water. I followed this ledge for another 6 miles before it started to arc south and descend. I could see off in the distance three or four small islands. It was difficult to judge the distance to them, but they were almost to the horizon. As I started south, the bluff descended to the sandy beach again. I estimated that I was about two to three miles north of where the plane crashed. I walked south along the beach until I could see the wrecked, burnt plane. I cut inland and circled around the crashed plane site and then back to the beach when I reached the bamboo grove. As I approached the huts, Connie came running out. "Jerry, Jerry, I'm so glad you're back, I missed you." The sight running toward me was a topless Connie in a miniskirt, her tanned skin aglow and a huge smile on her face. Yes, I was glad to see her, too. She ran to me, threw her arms around me, and kissed me hard on the mouth as she knocked me down on the sandy beach. Wow, what a welcome home. "I was so worried that something might happen to you, I'm so glad you are back," she yelled. We held each other on the beach and kissed for a few minutes. I never thought a woman's lips could taste so sweet and feel so good. When she finally turned me loose, we got up and proceeded to my hut. I showed her my treasure finds, and she saw immediately the value of the tools I had found. From my trek around the island, I had surmised the island was somewhat teardrop shaped and in size to be about 4 to 5 miles wide at the southern end and approximately 6 to 7 miles wide at the northern end and almost 15 miles north to south. There was sufficient landmass to sustain our group for quite a long time. I still had no inkling as to how long we were going to be stranded on this island. "I would like to explore the interior of the island next," I told Connie. "We need to know what is here and if there is anything else that will be useful to us." "Good idea, only this time I want to go with you," came her reply. "I want to see the rest of the island and I want to go with you." "OK, when shall we head out?" I asked. "I think that you need to rest for a day or two and then we can go. Does that sound all right?" she inquired. Having decided that, I got my spear and facemask to get some fish for dinner. As I have said before, spear fishing was almost too easy. I could almost, but not quite, reach out and catch them with my hands. They were so plentiful and almost tame. Getting them by stabbing them with the sharpened bamboo spear was relatively easy. After I had speared four fish, I took them back to our camp kitchen area, and Connie prepared them for dinner. Connie was still topless, and her pert little breasts were driving me crazy. I am sure that she caught me staring at them several times. When she would catch me, she would just smile and continue doing whatever she was occupied with. After our meal we decided to head up to the falls to clean up. Once at the pool, we stopped at the edge. Connie dropped her skirt, removed her shoes and peeled off her underpants. She then quickly dove into the pool. When she came up, she was facing me. "Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to strip and join me?" she asked, giggling. Without saying anything, I stripped and dove in to join her. We swam to the ledge below the falls and climbed out to stand under the cascading water. The falling water felt good, and Connie looked wonderful. Over the last weeks, due to our sparse diet and exercise, she had lost a few pounds and tightened up her muscle tone. Her tanned skin glowed in the fading light. She had a fantastic body. Nothing overly developed, just nice, pert, and inviting. Her sparse brunette bush rose from between her thighs, and the slit of her vagina lips were very visible. She was a very tempting picture. I couldn't act on my impulses for several reasons. First, there was the age difference, and what would she want with an old man like me. There was thirty years' difference between us. Second, I didn't want to take advantage of her being in a vulnerable situation. Third, she was married. And fourth, I was scared shitless. That pretty well covered it. As much as I wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her, and make love to her, I couldn't do it. We swam back to our clothes and dressed. It was dark by the time we got back to our huts. She hugged and kissed me lightly good night and retired to her own hut. I was left with an empty feeling in my chest and a raging hard on. I slept fitfully that night and rose early. I went fishing and came back with six good-sized fish. We ate two and saved four for our exploration trip. Connie was back to her sleeveless shirt tied under her breasts and a short skirt. She presented a very pretty picture. We gathered fruit and coconuts for our trip and decided to start the next morning. I went fishing again and got four more fish. Later that day, we got a surprise visit from Terry and Sophie. They said they were on their way to the falls and decided to stop by to say hi and see how we were doing. They were both very impressed with the huts that we had built and our cooking area. We asked them to stay and have dinner. They were surprised when Connie got out the fish and began to cook them. I thought they were going to grab them and eat them raw. They devoured them quickly. It was the first real protein they had had since we had crashed. I noticed that they had both lost some weight, and their tanned bodies looked good. "Things are not so good with the rest of the group. No one wants to do anything to improve our situation. Elaine spends all her time looking after Brad. Brad is becoming a demanding tyrant. Arnold is just as bad, ordering everyone around and virtually making a slave out of Amy. She cries most of the time. Arnold has taken to hitting her to make her stop and do what he tells her. She doesn't have the strength to stop him. Becky's wounds are healing well, but she is still very despondent over the death of her husband. Sam's doing ok; Sam's arm is healing well. He and Joann look after each other. Tony has turned into a real ass-hole. He is only concerned about himself and does nothing to help anyone. Monica has turned into a real bitch. All she does is complain about everything." Terry reported to us. "So you are with some unhappy campers?" I asked. "I wish you guys were doing better." Island Castaways "Thank you for the fish dinner! It was great! Maybe we could come back again sometime?" Monica mentioned. "Surely, we would like you to come back," Connie invited. With that they left to return to the group up the beach. Connie gave me a hug and a very tender kiss and retired to her hut and I to mine for the night. The next morning we packed up our things, along with a couple of bamboo spears, and headed off inland. We decided to cut across the island, which was the most direct route to the WWII encampment, so that Connie could check it out and then head back inland and up to the north end of the island through its heart. The vegetation was thick, but not so thick as to make it impassable. It was just a little slower going. About halfway to the other side of the island, we came upon some berry plants. They had overgrown a large piece of the forest. They looked a lot like raspberries. They looked edible, so we decided to try them. They were sweet, but tart at the same time. We ate a few to see if they were ok and noted the spot so that we could find them again later. It took us about three hours to reach the encampment. Connie was thrilled just to know that someone else had been on this island at some time in the past. We searched the area for over an hour, including the vehicles. All we found were one small double-edged knife about six inches long that was badly rusted and a small wooden box that contained packages of seeds. We ate a small lunch and then headed off back into the interior in a northeasterly direction. As we approached the geographic center of the island, there was a small mountain that must have risen eight or nine hundred feet above sea level, a testament to the island's volcanic origins. We decided not to climb the mountain, but to skirt around its western side. Just prior to reaching the base of the mountain, we encountered a flock of guinea hens. I knew that these birds, similar to chickens, were very edible. I stored this information away for later use. We continued on around the mountain toward the north end of the island. There were all kinds of vegetation. Also there were lots of different kinds of birds, including some large parrots. We reached the north end of the island, and I pointed out the other islands I had spotted on my earlier trip to Connie. She got all excited and wondered if we could figure out a way to go there. I told her to forget it; there was no reasonable way. We camped on the bluff above the ocean. It was warm at night, and we covered ourselves and snuggled together. In the spoon position my dick was pressed against her ass and I was sure that she was aware of my erection, but she gave no indication. I had my arm around her, and she took my hand and placed it on her breast. That was how we slept. We woke the next morning as the sun came up. After we ate our minimal breakfast, we headed south again to skirt the east side of the mountain. We had been walking only about two and a half hours when we encountered a bunch of pigs. There must have been twenty to thirty of the little rascals. I wouldn't call them wild boar, but they weren't domestic pigs, either. They were something in between. The adults appeared to be about the size of a large cocker spaniel and weighed about thirty to fifty pounds. We knelt in the brush and watched them. They were only about ten to fifteen feet from us. "Are they good to eat?" Connie whispered in my ear. "Yes, they should be very tasty," I replied. "Let's get one, ok?" she asked. "Quiet, let's wait and see if they come any closer, and I'll try to spear one," I stated. We crouched in the bushes, being as quiet as possible, and waited. The pigs were foraging around for what appeared to be some type of root to eat. Two of them were getting very close to our hiding place. As one of them came within three feet of us, I rose up and threw one of the spears as hard as I could. Talk about luck, it hit him just behind the shoulder, and he squealed once and fell over. The rest of the pigs scurried off as fast as they could in fright. I had killed a pig! Connie almost went crazy, yelling and screaming and jumping up and down. She was hugging me and kissing me and really got excited. While the blood was draining out of the pig, I went to inspect the roots the pigs were eating. They looked ok. If the pigs could eat them, maybe we could also, so I gathered up a many as we could carry. After gutting the pig we took the bamboo spear and pierced it through the tendons of the pig's hind legs and propped him up head hanging down. With my trusty old handmade machete, I cut off his head and bled him out. Then putting one hind leg over each shoulder and the pig on my back, we started off again back to our camp. We were going to eat good now. Once back at the huts in the late afternoon, we deposited our gear and the pig and made a quick run up to the falls to clean up. Again Connie stripped and dove in. I didn't hesitate this time and did the same. I really enjoyed looking at her body and its feminine assets. She didn't seem to mind my visual inspection and was very aware of my looking. Back at camp, we finished off the fish that were left, and being tired went to our huts and to sleep. I had been asleep for about two hours when Connie awakened me lying down next to me. She put her arms around me and kissed me firmly on the lips. "My hero, the hunter. I was so proud of you today, you were wonderful," she whispered in my ear. She was naked, and my body reacted immediately. I put my arms around her and pressed against her. I could feel her breasts and hard little nipples against my chest. My cock was lodged firmly against her soft down-covered mound. We kissed long and deeply. I rolled her over onto her back and moved my mouth down to her breasts. I took one of her nipples in my mouth and sucked on it while swirling my tongue around it. I caressed her other breast with my other hand and tweaked her nipple with my fingers. She moaned softly at my touch. I lowered my hand and cupped her mound, her soft mound, in the cup of my hand. I ran my fingers up and down the lips of her pussy and could feel their fullness and wetness. I slipped one finger in between her wet puffy nether lips. She seemed to like this even more. I stroked her lips and deftly sipped my finger deeper until I had penetrated her vagina. As I stroked my finger in and out of her, I massaged her clit with my thumb. She was moving her hips to my hand aggressively as I massaged her. I felt her body tense and stiffen as she climaxed. And climax she did -- deep, hard, and strong. As she came back down, she reached for my hard member and stroked it. She pushed me onto my back and lowered herself down so that she could take my hard cock in her mouth. I almost came immediately as she sucked on my cock. She kept stroking and sucking until she had my entire member in her mouth. I could feel the back of her throat as she stroked on me. I was getting close to coming and pressed lightly on her forehead to let her know. She backed off and released me. She pressed both hands onto my chest to prevent me from rising as she swung her leg over my hips and settled her hot wet womanhood down onto my stiff cock. I slid into her easily, and she began to stroke on me. We were both in need of release, and it didn't take long for us to reach the pinnacle of passion. We came together. I felt load after load empty into her. It was as if her vagina was sucking every last drop out of me. Her pulsating pussy gripped me tightly. After some time, we came down and fell asleep in each other's arms. We woke early. Connie opened her eyes and smiled at me, hugged and kissed me and rose without a word. I got up shortly and found her at the stream washing up. When I arrived, she took her washcloth and bathed me. It felt good to be taken care of that way. After we had eaten some fruit, we decided to butcher the pig. "What would you think about inviting the rest of the group to a barbeque this afternoon?" I asked her. "Do you really want to do that?" she asked back. "Yes, I'd like to share our good fortune, and I'm sure that they would like a little meat." "Ok, I'll go over soon and invite them. I'll ask them to bring some fruit so that they will feel like they are contributing, too," was her reply. I built a good fire in the fire pit and set up a bamboo spit with the pig on it over the hot embers. I figured it would take three to four hours for it to cook. I took the roots to the stream and washed them. I put them in a pot of water and set them to boil. I gathered some stones to clean the rust off of the tools we had found and to sharpen the edges. I worked on this most of the morning while the pig cooked. I had been formulating an idea. I thought about building a pen of lightweight bamboo. If I could catch some of those guinea hens and keep them in the pen, we would have fowl to eat without having to go catch or kill them, and like chickens they must give eggs, also. Fresh fried eggs would really be good for breakfast. Connie returned shortly and greeted me with a big hug, kiss, and smile. She was happy, I could easy tell. "They are coming. They are really looking forward to the fresh pork. Food has been very meager for them, and it's beginning to show. Most of them have lost weight and are hungry most of the time. There is no cooperation among them, and they are angry at each other more times than they are not. Thank you for thinking of inviting them. That was a very thoughtful thing to do." There was a smile of admiration on her face as she told me this. "I have another Idea. If we built a pen and captured some of those guinea hens and put them in there to keep, we would have meat whenever we wanted, and I'm sure they would lay eggs. What do you think?" I asked. "Great idea! Let's start tomorrow! You are so good! I can't believe how good you have made it for us here. I love you for that!" she exclaimed. My chest must have swelled with pride; she made me feel like a hero, even though I knew that I was not. Our guests soon arrived. The pork smelled wonderful roasting over the fire. I sampled the roots that I had boiled, and they tasted quite good, a little like potatoes, but not quite. Everyone had come to dinner except Brad and Arnold. Brad because of his broken legs and Arnold because of his pride. Everyone was chattering with Connie, but few spoke to me. We all settled down to eat. That pig must have weighed about 50 pounds, and I thought for a while they were going to eat the whole thing. It didn't matter, they were hungry, and it was my pleasure to watch them eat. The boiled roots also made a big hit with everyone. Things got very quiet while they ate. When they were sated, conversation started up again. Everyone seemed very impressed with our huts, cooking area, and stone fire pit. They groused about their living conditions, but made no comment about improving their lot. Soon after, they started to leave. Connie got lots of hugs and thank yous. A few thanked me and went on their way. I asked Elaine and Amy to wait a minute. "Since Brad and Arnold couldn't make it to dinner, I would like you to take some of the pork back to them. Be sure to get enough. Connie will help you make up a package." As soon as Connie heard what I was telling Elaine and Amy, she had taken a broad leaf and served up several generous portions of the pork for them to take back. They both looked at me and smiled. Terry and Sophie had hung back and were the last to depart. Prior to departing, they came over and sat with Connie and me by the fire. We made small talk for a little while, until they got up the courage to ask what was on their mind. "We are very impressed with what you guys have done here. We don't like what is happening with the rest of the group. We would like very much to join you guys. Will you let us?" asked Sophie. There was a look of longing in her eyes as she asked. "We will contribute whatever we can. All you have to do is tell us what you want. We are willing to do anything to be here. Please accept us." There were tears running down her cheeks as Terry spoke to us. "Please!" asked Sophie, pleading. "It's not up to me. That decision is Jerry's; it's up to him," was Connie's reply. Wow! Put a guy on the spot. I wanted to tell them to strip and show me what they had to offer, but thought that would be too crass. The thought did cross my mind, though. Three beautiful women, how could a guy get so lucky. I pretended to ponder the question for a few moments before I spoke. "If I allow the two of you to come here and join Connie and me, there are a few rules. First, you will contribute. That means work. Cook, clean, garden, if we make a garden, clean fish, gather fruit and roots, whatever. You will pull your share of the load. You will perform whatever tasks or work Connie or I need you to do. That doesn't mean you will be a slave or anything like that; it just means you will do your share. Second, there will be no discord. No fighting, arguing, jealously, nothing that will disrupt the harmony of our coexistence. Third, no lying, cheating, or stealing, we will be honest and open with each other. If you can agree to those terms, you are welcome." They both jumped up at once and pounced on me, shouting yes, yes, yes, and hugging and kissing me in the process. I saw Connie's face beaming with tears running down her cheeks. The girls then all embraced each other and began to cry. "Ok, ok," I shouted, "and no crying!" They all laughed at that. "Tomorrow bring your things here and move in." "Yes, yes, we'll be here early, and thank you, thank you!" they chimed in unison. "We'll be here early." After they had left Connie came over and sat beside me. She drew my arm around her shoulders and put hers around my waist. "Thank you for allowing them to join us. I appreciate your generosity." "There was never a question as to whether they could come here or not. They are very welcome. It was not really my decision. You will be the one sharing a hut with them." With that she punched me in the ribs. "You dog!" she said, laughing. We went into my hut together and made long, passionate love to each other for several hours. It was serene and satisfying. Shortly after we woke, the girls showed up with their baggage and their share of the salvage booty from the plane, utensils, blankets, etc. They moved their things into Connie's hut and settled in. I went fishing and came back with eight nice-sized fish. I had the girls go to the bamboo grove to cut bamboo for our guinea pen. I went looking for guineas to catch. I figured they must be all over the island, and I was right. Just south of the falls I found a large flock. I used a snare on the end of a long bamboo pole to snare them. Once snared, I tied their legs with a loop of reed. It was pretty easy, really. I had caught about a dozen. I strung them on the bamboo pole I had used to catch them, and with the pole across my shoulder took them back to the encampment. The girls had already gathered and cut enough bamboo. We drove bamboo stakes into the ground and attached thin bamboo poles between them and fastened them with reeds. Once the enclosure was finished, we put the guinea hens in the enclosure. The fence was about four feet tall with a gate so we could get in. I never thought about whether guineas could fly. I just assumed that, like chickens, they couldn't. We stood back and looked at our handiwork with pride. "Good job, girls, I'm proud of you!" I told them. But they were having none of it. "No, you did it; we just helped," was Sophie's retort. "Either way it looks great and I think it will work." I said to them with pride. We had fish for dinner, and it was a good meal. Terry brought out a special treat to celebrate. She had two cool Pepsi's that she had cooling in the stream all day. We shared these with relish. They weren't cold, but they were cool and tasted great. We sat around the fire till dark, just talking and relaxing. Shortly after dusk, we retired to our respective huts. I was lying on my back when a figure appeared in the open doorway. I knew by the shape that it was not Connie. It was Sophie. She entered and lay down beside me. She was nude except for a pair of satin skimpy French-cut panties. Her olive tanned skin glowed in the moonlight. Her breasts were large and full for someone of her small stature. "I wanted to come and thank you for letting Terry and me come and stay with you guys. We really do appreciate it, and you won't be sorry," she whispered in my ear. "You don't have to do this. It's not part of the deal," I told her. "I know, but I want to. I want to do this for you, so shut up and let me." And with that she kissed me more passionately and deeper than I have ever been kissed before. We kissed and felt each other's bodies for a while. She had an incredible body, lithe, supple, curves in all the right places, full wide hips, large breasts with nipples the size of olives, and a black covered mound that matched her long black tresses. She was a Mediterranean beauty, without a doubt. I sucked her nipples and felt them engorge and harden in my mouth. Her vagina was firm and full lipped. It got fuller and wetter as I stroked it. I rolled her onto her back and spread her legs. I had to taste her pussy. I had to taste her nectar. I lowered my mouth to her labia lips and heard her gasp as my tongue touched it. She spread her legs wider and rolled her hips up to give better access. I licked her pussy sliding my tongue between her moist lips. I moved up slightly so that I could reach her clitoris. It was large and swollen. I licked it and put my mouth on it and sucked. Her sharp intake of air let me know that she liked it. I sucked and licked on her until I felt her cum. Her hips rammed into my face and she stiffened all over as the convulsions of her climax overtook her. She held my head in place and didn't release me till she was finished. She then pulled me up to her face and kissed me, her tongue searching for and touching mine. I slid my hardened member between her thighs and slipped it in. It seemed as though her vagina was actually pulling me in. I slid easily in all the way. I could just barely feel her cervix. We then started to move together. Our rhythm seemed to match perfectly as we stroked into each other. This woman could make love. I mean really make love. After some time, our pace increased as we neared orgasm. I came first, unloading spurt after spurt into her inviting vagina. Her orgasm followed and was more intense than her first. She dug her heels into my ass and drove me in all the way. This had to be one of the all-time great orgasms that I have ever experienced. When it subsided, we collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep in each other's arms. She was gone when I awoke. At first this saddened me, but I soon realized that she was not far away. I went to the stream to wash up. When I returned, the girls were already cutting up fruit for breakfast. I got a big good morning hug and kiss from each. Life was good. After breakfast, Terry and Sophie went off to gather fruit. I asked Connie to stay back with me. We sat on my porch looking out at the ocean. "I was with Sophie last night. She came into my hut, and we had sex. I just wanted you to know," I told her. "I know, I told her it was ok for her to go. She asked me before she went to you," she replied. "You're ok with that, then?" I asked. "Yes, I'm really ok with it. I have no claims on you. I have a husband at home, lout that he is. I would still like to be able to come to you sometimes if you would like, but no, I don't have a problem with you being with Sophie or anyone else, for that matter. I love you for who you are and what you are doing for us. But I am not in love with you. Trust me, it's ok."