February 16

Getting ready to head back home for one day, Canadians will know all about our travel insurance and know why.
Here is some of what I've got done last couple of days.

It took close to two hours to make it to the cabin.

Bob sat out in the small ‘yard’ and took a long rest during which time he thought about what his next chores should be.

Obviously he needed to clean the cabin as best he could then organize it in at least a temporary fashion so that it would be a functional home. It took him a moment then he realized he had just thought of this run-down cabin as a ‘home’! He shook his head slightly then murmured aloud, “well maybe it is my home, I wonder for how long”.

He decided everything that wasn’t fastened down, he would haul outside and then after cleaning the place he would move back what he felt would be necessary. The few meager items only took a short time to move outside; no broom was found so he cut some willows that were growing in one corner of the clearing and made a make-shift broom from the leafy branches.

It took well into the early afternoon before he decided that everything was clean and orderly enough, at least for the immediate future.

Although he had picked up the full water bottles as he dragged the travois past the spring, he picked up the two buckets that had been by the door and headed to the spring. The round trip took under an hour, but he had spilt almost half a bucket of water when he caught a foot on a root. 

His breakfast of salal berries had long before worn off and although he had drank as much water as he could while at the spring, hunger pangs had taken over.

He remembered the spot that had appeared to have been cultivated and on investigation he found a half dozen scrawny potato plants and a row of carrot tops all overrun by grass and some salmonberry sprouts. When he scratched away the dirt from one of the potato plants he found a handful of small thumb sized potatoes. The carrot tops yielded large hair root covered carrots, most of them split along their length.

He washed the potatoes and one of the carrots and wolfed them down. The potatoes were tasty but the carrot was strong and rather woody.

‘The spuds must be volunteers from the original garden, the carrots have probably just been growing here since God knows when.’  He thought.

The sun was still high in the sky but realizing that once it went down he would be unable to make a fire, Bob gathered some fine fuels together and utilizing the old fire pit he again make a small cone shaped pile with the  twigs and using the broken jug bottom quickly had a small blaze going.

Once the fire was well established he added some of the piled wood from the lean-to and supplemented that with some semi rotten chunks he found on the edge of the clearing.

Although tired, he figured he could make it down to the beach and back before dark, he wanted to find some more oysters and envisioned an oyster stew for his dinner.

 He found that oysters weren’t quite as plentiful and most of the ones he found had grown flatter and tighter to the rocks, however he did find a half dozen that he was able to remove intact and then under a very large rock with an almost cave like hollow he found a large bed of mussels. He pulled about a dozen of these from where they were anchored and returned to the cabin.

When he arrived back there was still plenty of fire burning in the pit so he scraped a pile of embers onto the shovel he had found in with the wood and carried them carefully into the shack and deposited them inside the barrel stove, he added some slivers of wood and in a few moments had a fire going.

He went back outside and dug a couple more handfuls of the tiny potatoes, pulled two more hairy carrots then took them inside, washed them and cut the carrots into small pieces, next he half filled one of the pots the cabin had provided with water and added  the vegetables, then placed the pot on the stove.

The box by the bed had amongst other things, yielded a screwdriver and with this he shucked the oysters and mussels and added them to the potatoes and carrots.

While his stew was cooking, he went back outside and sat at the fire pit, the afternoon shadows from the setting sun had already given way to dusk and although  the first stars of the evening were beginning to twinkle, Bob didn’t see them. He stared into the fire that was now reduced to glowing embers. In his mind he relived the storm and his awakening on the beach, the events since then and as he did he felt a growing conviction that he should stay on this island (for he was sure that it was ) and using what had been left and the ever continuing gifts of the ocean; survive, heal and perhaps live again.

He stirred finally as his nose relayed to him that the stew was cooking, he rose and went into the shack and closed the door.

  

PART II