Robinson Caldrail
A somewhat battered and bruised Robinson Caldrail crawls slowly up the beach of Washout Island, surrounded by the detritus that shipwrecks usually leave riding the surf. Alone and castaway, this is not the first time I've been marooned on this particular island. Right now I'm too devastated by what happened at the height of the storm. Captain AD, determined to brave the foul weather aboard his unseaworthy vessel, ordered me thrown over the side to stay afloat. I wasn't suprised. I'd considered abandoning ship already but the Admiralty at Head Office had asked me to man the pump for now.
What will happen to the SS Portapalace without my navigation and rigging skills? Who can say? The ship is out there somewhere, heaving in gales and heavy seas. Will it sail toward safe anchorage in the Lands of Success or a watery grave in Davey Jones Receivership?
Come the morning, I shall search whatever has survived the storm and found itself discarded on this beach along with me. The old cave will be there of course, and hopefully the sources of food and water remain constant if none too plentiful. Its not all temperate paradise however. The natives are far from friendly... But once my castaway lifestyle is in order, I shall ready myself to flag down a passing ship to rescue me from this lonely exile.
Just one thing though. Not keen on the Man Friday thing, ok?
Translation of the Week
Yep - I've been made redundant - again.
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