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Authors: James Rafferty

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A Survivalists Tale

BOOK: A Survivalists Tale
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A Survivalists Tale

By

James C Rafferty

 

Copyright

 

 

 

      Wolfyn Publishers. 2012

 

Copyright 2013 author James C Rafferty All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

 

This book is a total work of fiction. The characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously so are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Wolfyn Publishers.

 

 

Chapter: One

Good morning Mr Royals, Said Patricia as she breezed into my bedroom, throwing curtains open and letting in that fucking sunshine. I hate mornings, I really do, she bloody knew I had that late night drinking session with the new clients, I said you do know Pat as a personal assistant, this is a bit too fecking personal, she just smiled and said you know Billy doesn’t like waking you when you have a hangover. That’s because he is smarter than you, and tell him he’s fucking shite at being a butler and he’s sacked. She turned and said yeh he knows, blah, blah, blah, now your painkillers and a glass of water are on your side table and breakfast is getting cold in your living room, so hurry up and swallow your tablets and have a shower, you smell like a brewery. I was just about to shout you can’t get the staff, when I realised she had fucked off. So I sat up and that was a bad idea right there, for some little shit started knocking the crap out of the inside of my head, I didn’t know whether to throw up, die, or go and have the dam shower. Oh, god Pat was right I fucking stank of boos, I grabbed the painkillers and downed them, I then staggered my way to my full body shower.

Down stairs, Pat walked into the main kitchen and said to chef, you might want to give old grumpy balls another half hour before sending up his breakfast. Billy who was sat by the table eating his breakfast, looked up and said how is he this morning Pat, the usual after having too much to drink, he will be in the plane and half way there before he becomes human again. Just as Pat was sitting down to her breakfast, in walked Joe Stratton, Rick Royals cameraman, how’s the Rick man, this morning Pat, I would not go anywhere near him with your camera this morning, it would end up where the last two landed in the bin. Joe said I can’t believe the bugger is going on this survival thing without me, bollix said Pat you know the yanks wouldn’t let any of his normal staff go with him. It was part of the contract and besides you still get paid just like the rest of us, even though he will be away for five years, I think it’s really great that he is doing this for charity said Billy.

Rick Royal was seven foot eight inches tall in his bare feet, he was considered by most of his fans, as very good-looking man, others would say he was rugged everyone agreed he was super fit. He was the star of his very own survival program, which had been running for six years and made him a ton of money. His father had taught him the basic principles of survival ever since he could tie a knot.

He had a very unique upbringing, since he was seven he had travelled the world with his father and while his father was doing business, his son learned how to make everything from his own knifes to making his bows, arrows and hooks for fishing. His father also made sure he had a better than good basic education by employing a personal teacher to travel with him, the one thing that really annoyed Rick was no one taught the transition from survival to living as a normal person under extreme conditions. Ricks belief was a survivor was a person who done just enough until rescued and returned to their normal way of life, which is why he taught people not just to survive but how to live until rescued, which could be years.

When Rick was ten years old, a local newspaper ran with the story, Rick Royal survivalist guru, they claimed that Rick probably knew more about survival than any two so-called survival specialists on TV. The press and TV companies fought back saying their people were the top in their field and no little boy could survive out in the real world. Now that to my father is like a red rag to a bull, and he may have gone just a little too far, he put up a million pound to any off the so called survivalists if they could out last his son. Three of the top people took him up on it, the TV producers wanted to put up another million if they could have the exclusive rights. My father said no, we would let the world decide who was right; the whole island would be rigged with internet cameras so the world could watch.

The next problem came when the TV company who was behind one of the stars, argued about what they could take with them, my father shot them down with, they should all wear the same clothes, and take exactly the same as my son. They weren’t very happy when they found out I wasn’t taking anything with me at all, not even a knife. Four islands were found and specialists were brought in to make sure they had almost the exact same conditions, on each island, there was one that didn’t have a lot of fresh water, but strangely enough had a lot of pigs.

The world was to have got a chance to vote on who goes to which island, but in the end it was a lottery that chose the islands, everyone was checked and anyone found cheating would be eliminated and would have to live with the humiliation for the rest of their lives. My father was asked by the media how can you allow your young son to stay on an island for up to a year may be longer, what type of father are you. He would just look at the camera and smile, and say obviously a father who trusts his son a lot more than the poor adults who are challenging him. The day came and we all had to report to our boats that would take us to our island, the others had been cramming up on the islands they would land on. Which was a complete waste of time for none of us knew which island we would get until the boat took us there.

We had no radio and no way to communicate with the outside world, if we wanted off then all we had to do was wave to the cameras in a certain way. Well I landed on the so-called worst island, the one with supposedly very little water and lots of pigs. I jumped of the boat and got started, in my case the one thing I would quickly need was water. So as I looked around for it, I worked on finding a knife, I found some good wood and some sharp stones; I used some long grass to tie it with. I knew it wouldn’t last long but it was a good weapon as well as an axe, I was quietly walking through the trees when I heard pigs. Wild pigs can be very dangerous when scared, or defending their young, I was hoping they wouldn’t see me as a threat, so I allowed my scent to drift to them.

I saw through the bushes it was a family group, the boar was quite a large chap and had some dangerous looking tusks, but I knew the mother was the one to watch. She had three young from sometime this year and one a bit older probably last year’s litter. Now I had found them I started to graze, picking some fruit and nuts, very soon, they started moving off, and so I followed them. They were hard to follow as they had tracks or runways that went through scrub type tunnels, eventually my patience and hard work paid off, for as I had thought they had gone for a drink. A nice clear stream close to the beach but far enough inland I wouldn’t be hit by storms too much,

I followed the stream further inland and eventually found a natural clearing with a pool the size and width of a swimming pool. I now started to cut down branches from certain trees and making my shelter nice and high of the ground. I had just finished the base of the shelter when it was time to start my fire, I built a pit and collected wood, and got my fire going. Using some of the branches, I made a nice comfortable bed and had a good night’s sleep. I awoke to the dawn chorus and had a wash, I then headed to the beach to gather some food, after cooking a load of shellfish like Razors, Muscles, and clams I even found some fresh water oysters, I was well stuffed, back to finishing of my shelter. I took a break from the shelter to once again find some fruit and nuts, as they are high in what my body needs. I also started laying down some basic snares to see what was around, this is one of my favourite snares and keeps what I catch up and away from other animals.

The beauty of this trap is you can scale the size of it up and catch most any animals. First however I needed to make rope, it didn’t take me long to find a tree which had strong stringy bark, I like to braid this type it makes it a lot stronger. I laid this type of trap on runs through the grass I had seen, near the trees, I had a lot of fun making the rope and trying to work out just what type of animal I might catch. The one thing I had been taught was prepare your mind, it’s strange but most people especially adults are too busy thinking about what they are missing, rather than what they have. I had been taught to look to the future and plan your time; there was so much to do, by the third day I had made a better bed and a chair for my shelter. I had found some flint and was in my element making axes and knifes, I loved flint napping, it was like gods surgical instruments, I went down to the river mouth and set some basic traps, for fish.

 

I was starting to get more and more small rabbit sized fury animals, I had no idea what they were called, but with enough of them, I would have bedding and clothes for the winter. I had started a salt trap, it was just a large rectangle above the tidemark and every day I would fill it with water from the sea, while I was checking my fish traps. Eventually the sun burned of the water and the salt was left behind, I could use this for preserving meat for the winter. While I explored the island, I watched out for better-sheltered areas from the winter storms I had also being watching the pigs and seeing how many were around.

There was also some feral goats, they were almost the best thing I had seen so far, for I could build a loom and everything I would need for woollen clothes but better still I could make felt, goats cheese and goats soap, all that and I could eat them too. First though catch my goats, I watched them for days just getting closer all the time, there was a particular cave they all seemed to favour so I explored it while they were out grazing. There were a couple of tunnels I would have to block, but really no problem, I would make fences and place them close by so I could get them in place when I went for it. First, I would have to kill a few pigs, I wasn’t going to waste anything I could save so the family I had picked would be the mother and father killed and the baby’s I would keep, there were seven of them. I had built a smoke house and found some pleasant wood that would flavour the pork to my advantage, I also had more than enough salt for the salting method. I could now enjoy my favourite food pig’s kidney, I love it, and with the fat, I could fry it in my pottery frying pan. I had built four kilns with all my cups and plates and pots for storage and cooking, even a large water container.

BOOK: A Survivalists Tale
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