New Homeport Island (15 page)

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Authors: Robert Lyon

Tags: #Adult, #War, #Sea

BOOK: New Homeport Island
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and chilled me right back into a hypothermic sleep. The winds
 seemed relatively calm but the clouds seemed to be moving by
 at a hundred miles an hour, at least the winds weren’t lashing the
 surface. Chatter started that we must be close to land, someone
 had seen a bird about three hours latter a voice cried out, “Land
 ho!” A roar rose from all the bodies interlaced upon the sea
 followed by the utterance, “you better not be fucking with us.”
A voice called out, “Don’t let go of each other yet…it’s too far
 away; but kick that way!”  The current must have been helping
 us, it was less than an hour later we could all hear the surf on the
 beach and we noticed bugs flying in the air.
As I stumbled onto the beach I realized never before had
 my land legs left me quite that bad, I crawled up the beach still
 dizzy from the ocean. I glanced back and sat down watching the
 remaining survivors make land fall. They rolled in with an
 explosion of crashing waves behind them as if they were being
 swallowed up and vomited out upon the shore. I collapsed
 falling back onto the sand and looked at the sky and noticed it
 seemed to be early afternoon probably about ten in the morning.
Some of the survivors were so close to death as we landed they
 had swallowed enough sea water during intermittent black outs
 in the crashing surf that they vomited up the ocean as it had
 vomited up them.
My nostrils burned from the sea water and I could smell the
 island fragrance, some sort of floral scent. The sand felt rough
 on my feet as I lay there with my knees up and on my back and I
 realized the sand must be hot. As I crawled up toward the rocks
 and brush I noticed some were headed back to the cool wet sand.
When I hung my coveralls out to dry I noticed my
 cigarettes were soaked, but the bag of sun flower seeds was
 unopened; those I would save. I had a tendency to wear pajama

bottoms in place of underwear when I was in my coveralls this
 was true now as well. As my coveralls hung drying I lay on
 some rocks with some soft leaves and grasses spread a crossed
 it. The other survivors noticed and called out to me, “Is the sand
 hot up there?” I replied, “The sand is, but this rock is okay; I laid
 down some grass and leaves over it.”  We were from Everett
Washington, sea lions sunbathing on rocks was a common
 enough sight, and that’s what we became…sun bathing sea
 lions.    
I was cold, wet, and exhausted as was everyone else, I
 knew we would have to find fresh parasite free drinking water
 very soon but as for now I needed sleep. I slept there with them
 huddled up until dusk and that’s when I was wide awake. I
 noticed I had taken my boots back off in my sleep, I put them on
 and started fumbling through the deepening darkness looking for
 any signs of light and any path through the brush to the highest
 vantage point I could reach.  
I remembered my survival training and discovered I must
 be delirious or just dehydrated, because I didn’t get any survival
 training; I could however feel the cool air rising from some
 source of moisture. The moon light lit my path; the brush was
 heavy with only the occasional palm tree. I was hoping for
 coconut but found none. I decided I should sleep until morning
 but remembered I was searching for a light source, any
 indication of anyone else there or even a satellite phone or radio
 repeating station and I searched on.
I moved toward the moisture and noticed a clearing shaded
 from the moon light by trees and tall brush. As I moved into the
 clearing I stepped into what I had hoped was a fresh water pool,
I put some on my lips… I narrated my thought saying to myself,
“Bad news…salt water; Good news…no mosquitos; don’t need

to discover malaria.”  I had moved inland far enough to notice
 through the brush beyond the clearing there was a mountain
 ridge; that was the best vantage point.
I headed toward the hilly slopes always aware of certain
 island hazards, staph infection, malaria, snakes, I had even
 considered the possibility of poisons tree frogs. I made my way
 up the hillside digging into soft mud and clay, occasionally a
 rock would slip away and I realized given the size of the rocks
 one could slip while I am one it and I would likely break my
 neck surfing on a rock down a slope on a wave of mud. Once I
 reached the top I looked up, I had seen that night sky clear
 enough to see the milkyway far from any lights before under
 much more pleasant circumstances and I dwelled on those
 memories for a while until I started craving a hamburger, chili
 dog, and Ice cream float from my favorite burger joint.
I took a deep breath and sighed, navigating that hill I like
 was already aware of what I could yet admit to myself, and I
 looked down. From the vantage point of the hill I could see the
 entire island from shore to shore, some of the detail was lost in
 the darkness but that in itself was an unwelcome discovery, no
 lights at all. We were alone on some south pacific island and
 that was not where we had hoped to be. Heartbroken with a deep
 pain in my chest I laid down and went back to sleep, I’m sure I
 cried a little but I wouldn’t admit that.
The following day I woke well after the sun rise and it was
 just starting to warm up, I stood up and looked at the island in
 the light; I couldn’t see the survivors of the ship wreck crew, the
 ridge in that direction had enough tall brush that only the ocean
 was visible and none of the crashing waves on the beach. It
 made me dizzy to see the whole world in a tea cup like that, and
 seemed odd to me that have sailed even in the heaviest of stormy

seas I was dizzy being able to see the ocean in all directions. I
 headed back down the slippery muddy slope I had ascended the
 night before to make my way back to everyone else. The path I
 had taken was through mud and brush, the mud was easy enough
 to retrace my steps the brush wasn’t impossible to figure out.
When I reached the clearing I had stepped into the night
 before I discovered it was a marshy tidal pool and I saw the rest
 of my path back to the beach front we landed on. I pushed
 through the brush and made me way to the ridge top, I could see
 them there wandering around in circles, starring out at the ocean,
 and ranting and raving both at each other and to themselves,
 though some looked as though they were speaking to imaginary
 people. I glanced down at my boots and noticed the mud, it was
 red and had streaks of white, it made me think of red bricks and
 in turn, a kiln…we would have to boil water to drink it, in fact
 we would have to evaporate the sea water and collect the steam
 and contain it until it condensed, typically washed ashore we
 should expect to be on a three day clock for fresh water
 production or we die of dehydration. But, it seemed we were on
 the other clock, three days of waiting for the rescuers to show
 up, followed by the remainder of a two week period hoping they
 find us, and finally the last week of a three week period praying
 the ships hoping to win the hero lottery hadn’t given up yet. But
 in this case we’d been on the water without so much as a life raft
 for days, we were sent into those waters on a ‘special mission’
 from a great distance away because no one normally operates in
 those waters.
I continued down the slope of the ridge and chief Pete saw
 me come out of the brush and noticed the mud on my boots, he
 came to me in a hastily and asked with his head down, standing
 to the side of me, and in a hush, “Who’s here?” I replied, “I

woke up in the middle of the night and found the highest point,
 there’s no one here…no air strip, no radio tower or repeater, no
 helipad, and no lights. There were no ships on the horizon this
 morning and no air traffic. No fresh water pond and I didn’t see
 anything I recognize as edible.” Chief Pete’s eyes went wide and
 he teared up a little. He asked, “Are you sure?” I replied, “The
 island isn’t that big, maybe a mile…mile and half long, quarter
 mile wide.” He was choked up when he uttered, “We heard a
 bunch of people in the bushes last night…don’t tell anyone.”
 then he walked over and spoke with chief Brosuer. Chief
Brosuer covered his eyes then slid has down over his mouth to
 his chin and I read his lips as he said, “I want to see this highest
 point” Chief Pete looked over at me and said, “Which way?” I
 pointed and said, “My path is noticeable; be careful on the
 mountain slope.” and they headed off in that direction. As they
 left chief Brosuer looked over at me and said get someone to
 start collecting firewood, and I nodded saying, “Alright”. Some
 of the others saw him call that out and about twenty people
 headed out searching for fire wood. I headed along the brush
 line collecting wood and looking for a good place for the fire.
Captain Artimus called out, “We have to stay here; this is where
 the currents put us and where they will be looking.” One of the
 female called out back to him, “We’re collecting firewood sir.”
As I collected the firewood, dry grasses, and bark chips I
 came up a rock face completely vertical with dirt rather than
 sand at the bottom, the best spot for a warming and cooking fire
I had found, the signal fire would have to be more conspicuous.
When I returned Captain Artimus was having a group of
 sailors build him a lean-to, one of them STG3 Trooks was
 arguing with him, “Why the hell am I doing this for you!?”
Artimus responded angrily, “Because I’m an officer and your

captain” Trooks responded, “Your ship captain is at the bottom
 of the ocean, as is your command, and you are probably the only
 captain to have lost his ship in the navy in a hundred years!”
En3 Justina Mier was helping Trooks build the lean-to and
 interjected, “Pearl Harbor wasn’t a hundred years ago…let’s just
 get this done.” Ebony Allick added, “Still lost his ship…” To
 which the Captain snapped, “Thank you, I almost forgot!”
Allick replied, “No you didn’t…but those guys over there
 starring at the water are in denial. They askin’‘who you think
 stole the ship?’”  Artimus looked over just in time to see GSM1
James Hudlow say, “I think it was the Chinese…Iraq couldn’t
 do it.”
Artimus glanced down at her and said with a tone of
 concern and remorse, “They may have a fever…”  Ebony
 retorted, “All I know is they is first classes and they never do
 anything.” Artimus attempted to console her by saying, “Well,
 they did.” Justina interjected, “Then why are we here…if they’re
 so god damn good, then why are we here?” Artimus replied,
“Just stay busy…okay?” Justina replied, “Yep.”
I saw bad things coming in that, so I walked over in my
 pajama pants and white tee shirt to see if my coveralls had dried.
The bottoms of the legs were still wet but I wrung them out and
 put them on. Then I headed back into the brush and over the
 ridge, looking for another site should things go bad, or for when
 thing go bad. I glance through the trees at the end of the clearing
 and saw Brosuer and Pete at the top of the hill. Chief Pete
 looked like he was smelling something in the air and Brosuer
 was standing with his arms folded. I decided to avoid them
 seeing me and realized I needed to cover my trail. I headed over
 to the other beach to follow the coast line, maybe something of
 use had washed ashore. We needed a high volume of fresh water

right away. Our ship, in its day, had reverse osmosis
 desalination plants…just a high pressure filter, the older ships
 however had evaporative condensers and those we had
 schooling on as well. I walked to the coast of the island far and
 away from our landing site and found it was much rockier where
I emerged, but no signs of any debris…not so much as an empty
 plastic bottle to hold any water I might find or find a way to
 purify.  
Further along the shoreline the rocks stopped and back to
 soft, but hot sand. I looked up to the hill top and noticed the
 chief’s had left their vantage point. There on that hillside was
 the red clay I had on my boots, I don’t know if the white streak
 was peat moss or just volcanic clay but in any case it was all I
 had as a building material and I would have to test it. I walked
 up to the hillside glancing around for anything worth
 noticing…still no ships or aircraft, the palm trees were
 surprisingly tall and there were tall reeds near the shore at the
 western tip, at least western was my best guess given the
 position of the sun and I needed a sense of direction to find the
 spots again. With that observation I realized I would need a sun
 dial, I decided I would find a relatively straight stick as long as
 possible and plant it up right in the dirt and mark the ground for
 the hour, if I could remember the celestial navigation I learned
 on my first ship I would have a better sense of where we were.
Once I had reached the clay I dropped to my knees, it was
 time to get dirty. I clawed at the soft clay with my hands, sticks,
 and rocks forming clay bricks and got them ready to be carried
 down to a more suitable location to try and burn those bricks
 solid, on point of humility I didn’t want anyone to observe my
 attempt, so I moved them down near the reeds I noticed earlier. I
 was there all day moving those bricks and bringing scoops of

clay in the hopes of making a chamber to boil water in, it would
 need to have a spout and the main opening would have to be
 sealable either with wood or a clay lid.
I dug out a trench to put the fire in with rocks and a large
 chunk of wood that must have once been a trunk of a bush and
 rocks. I took a palm and pulled white feathery material out of it,
 it was much like thread and wound it together. That gave me a
 small piece of string I was planning on binding wood together
 building a lattice over the trench to burn the bricks, but the
 string would take forever to make and only had a chance of
 surviving the heat if it were coated in the clay; so that I set aside.
Back at the landing site they had built five lean-tos and
 circled them like pioneering wagons, some were calling it ‘The
Pentagon’. Near the surf they had removed their tee-shirts and
 were attempting to reduce the amount of salt in the water by
 sucking it out of their shirts. Linda, our corpsman was
 explaining they might be better off drinking each other’s urine.
The command master chief actually survived the ordeal, a shock
 to everyone, they kept asking him if he was a ghost and telling
 him he could go into the light, he was forty eight years old, but
 there amongst the twenty something’s and early thirties in the
 case of the other chiefs he was taken as a sixty year old. The
 swim left him pale and he had lost his glasses so he stumbled
 through the sand with his arms extended cursing everyone and
 everything that had the misfortune to cross his path.
In the center of the circle of lean-tos was a pile of wood
 and about sixteen people trying to start a fire by smashing rocks
 together and rubbing sticks together. BM3 Tim Brock was
 rubbing sticks together and said, “It just won’t start.” Artimus
 said, “It’s all we have all the cigarette lighters are water logged.”
GSE3 Gabriel Noson said, “If I had a battery and some steel

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