Desert Island Chronicles: Man Out of Time?

Day 874 on the desert island: How am I even typing this? I feel like I might have asked myself this before the two-year anniversary had passed, but I really can’t remember. Time has just stopped mattering to me beyond night and day, which is actually really nice. I have nowhere I need to be, for instance. Don’t need to worry about having meals at certain times. No bills to pay.

Anyway, my two-year-anniversary celebration was lovely. I scraped some slime off the slime-rock and cooked up some coconut, and had it with a cup of premium cave water. I usually just go for pond water, but I made the trip this time.

Oh, and I really do think I’m making headway on this anchor winch. I know I’ve been trying to fix it for the last two years, but the words of my father- probably the greatest anchor winch mechanic Melbourne marinas have ever seen. It just keeps ringing in my ears: “You fix that anchor winch boy, or no gruel for you.”

Was I born in the early 18th century? Because then that would make a lot more sense. I seem to remember times being a bit different when I left for a quick trip around the bay and got caught in that storm, but I could be wrong. Maybe our family were just very advanced for our time, considering how much emphasis they placed upon anchor winches and keeping them ship-shape. Maybe I should’ve listened, but now I’m here, with only a broken boat, my new coconut family and the evil spirit of the waterfall cave for company.

Well, I say evil. He’s not so bad once you get to know him. In fact, he said the other day that he, used to live in Melbourne, outboard motor repair was his game. That’s definitely not something they had in the 1800s. Maybe I am actually from the modern era, and I’ve just forgotten. It’s been a long couple of years.