//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Pony's Island // by No One and Nobody //------------------------------// Chapter 8: Pinkie Was Right. “Well Duh.” The Skipper awoke on the deck of the S.S. Minnow. He looked around. The Minnow had run aground last night on an island. He jumped off the side of the ship to look around. As he walked next to the boat, he whacked Gilligan’s knee, waking his little buddy up. “Hey Gilligan… Gilligan!” Yelled the Skipper. Gilligan sat up. “Oh my gosh, man overboard. I’ll save you SKIPPEEERRRR!” Gilligan leaped off the side off the boat… right onto the sandy beach. “Gilligan,” the Skipper said, hoisting him into a sitting position by the back of his belt, “The Minnow’s been beached.” “BEACHED!” Gilligan squeaked, “But when the storm was over and it was calm you said we'd be home in no time.” “It may take longer,” the Skipper said, keeping his voice low. “But when the passengers wake up and want to get off at the marina, what are we gonna tell them?” Gilligan whispered as he pointed towards the boat. “We’ll think of something.” “How are we going to get home? Look at those holes.” The Skipper raised his hat and Gilligan put his hands up in protection. “No Skipper, I’m very happy to be here. I’m so happy, I could kiss the ground,” Gilligan bent over and kissed the sandy beach, “PPTTTHHH! This island tastes terrible.” The Skipper rolled his eyes. “Oh Captain!” Mr. Howell yelled as he and his wife came around the side of the Minnow, “Would you have your man remove our luggage from this vessel?” “I’d be very happy to Mr. Howell. Where would you have it removed TO?” “Oh someplace where the limousine can pick it up and take us to the nearest hotel.” “That storm drove us hundreds of miles off course. This island doesn’t even appear on my navy charts!” “Well you should have gotten your charts from a more reliable source.” The Skipper bristled. “There is no more reliable source that the United States Navy!” “Oh yes there is, The Sunny Brook Yacht Club! My outfit! Come along Lovey,” with that, Mr. Howell gave a little salute and started to walk off with Lovey. Before they left, Mrs. Howell turned around, looked at the Skipper and said to her husband, “You know, I think someone ought to report him.” “Well he will bear watching.” With that, they left. “Skipper,” said the Professor, running over from the boat, “Do you know what just happened? It appears as if our vessel crashed into a large coral outcrop, possibly the reef on which this atoll sits. The collision is undoubtedly what caused those holes and gouges in the side of the ship, which in turn caused the craft to run aground, isolating us in these inhospitable surroundings.” “Professor, is it true you are really good in science?” Gilligan asked. “Well I do hold several degrees,” answered the Professor, in a somewhat proud tone. “Well why couldn’t you have studied more in English?” “Gilligan, all I said is that we crashed on a reef and are now marooned on an island.” “Oh.” “I did notice something rather strange though,” said the Professor, pointing towards the boat, “The holes in the hull do not appear to have been caused by a collision with sharp corral. No they almost look like… Oh but that’s ridiculous.” “What?” Asked the Skipper, leaning in towards the Professor in anticipation. “Well, judging by the size, shape and placement of the damage, I would surmise that they were caused by blunt force impact,” as Gilligan opened his mouth the Professor restated himself, “Almost as if we were dropped right out of the sky.” This morning we awoke to find we were marooned on a deserted island, wrote the Professor in his journal, Right now we are going through our luggage, to see what can be gleaned from our limited supplies. The Professor stopped writing at the sound of Ginger’s exclamation. “I don’t remember packing this dress!” She was holding up a long, beaded beige dress, with a look of confusion on her face, “However it does look nice.” “Someone stole some of my gold coins!” Shouted Mr. Howell in anger, “And were did these bottles of wine come from?” It would appear that we are suffering from slight brain trauma resulting in forgotten memories. Fortunately there are no other serious injuries. The Skipper got up and walked over to the Howells, “There is one more place to check for supplies. Now I want you two to see what you can salvage out of the galley. Meanwhile Gilligan and I will explore the island. Gilligan?” Gilligan came up from below deck wearing all manner of exploring gear and said, “I got the equipment right here sir, I knew we were going to need it.” “Good work,” said the Skipper smiling, “Let’s get started.” “Yes. Sir.” Said Gilligan saluting smartly and bringing his legs together. There was a loud crash and Gilligan plummeted through the deck of the Minnow into the hold. The Skipper, Mr. and Mrs. Howell ran over to a hole in the side of the boat to get a look at Gilligan and see if he was alright. They looked through the hole at Gilligan who smiled and gave the Skipper a feeble salute. The Skipper grimaced and said, “Oh Gilligan. Wait there, I’ll give you a hand.” As the Skipper got on board the Minnow to help Gilligan out of the hold he heard Gilligan say, “Skipper. Why is the hold filled with rock candy?”