(Continuing from Part 13)
As I sat alone in my shelter, I began thinking about everything that had happened to me.
I had survived a terrible shipwreck, but I was now living on an island far from other people.
I had no family, no friends, and no hope of being rescued soon.
Sometimes my sadness was so great that I could hardly bear it.
I asked myself why I had been saved when all the other sailors had died.
Was I fortunate to be alive, or unfortunate to be trapped in such a lonely place?
I decided that I needed to examine my situation more carefully.
Among the things I had rescued from the ship were paper, pens, and ink.
I took a sheet of paper and drew a line down the middle.
On one side, I wrote the bad things about my condition.
On the other side, I wrote the good things.
I wanted to judge my situation fairly.
First, I wrote:
Bad: I am alone on a terrible island, with no hope of leaving.
Then I considered the other side.
Good: I am alive, although all my companions drowned. I was saved from death when there seemed to be no possibility of survival.
Next, I wrote:
Bad: I am separated from all other people and have nobody to speak with.
Good: I am not starving. The island provides food, and I have enough strength to work.
I continued.
Bad: I have very few clothes, and my possessions are limited.
Good: The climate is warm, so I do not need heavy clothing. I also recovered useful things from the ship.
Then I considered my safety.
Bad: I have no one to protect me if enemies or dangerous animals attack.
Good: I have seen no dangerous wild animals or hostile people. I also have guns and ammunition.
Finally, I wrote:
Bad: I have no one to comfort me or help me in my difficulties.
Good: The ship was carried close enough to shore for me to rescue supplies. Without those things, my situation would have been much worse.
When I finished, I read both sides carefully.
I realized that even in my terrible condition, I had reasons to be grateful.
I had lost many things, but I had also escaped death.
This did not mean that my loneliness disappeared.
I still wanted to return to England and live among other people.
But I understood that complaining would not improve my situation.
I needed to use what I had and continue working.
From that time, I tried to look at my difficulties with greater patience.
I also decided to begin writing a journal.
I wanted to record the important events of my life on the island.
I had enough ink and paper for some time, although I knew these supplies would eventually run out.
I began by writing about the day of the shipwreck.
My first entry described how I had reached the island on September 30, 1659.
I wrote that I had been thrown onto the shore after our ship struck a sandbank.
All my companions had drowned, and I alone had survived.
I also described my first night, when I slept in a tree because I was afraid of wild animals.
Then I recorded my visits to the wreck.
I explained how I had built rafts and brought food, weapons, tools, and other supplies ashore.
As I wrote, I remembered how frightened I had been during those first days.
I had believed that I would soon die from hunger or exposure.
Now, however, I possessed a shelter and many useful materials.
I continued writing about my work.
I described the fence, the tent, and the cave I was digging into the hillside.
I recorded the difficulties of cutting wood, carrying heavy objects, and making furniture.
I wanted my journal to show not only what I had accomplished, but also how much effort each task required.
I soon discovered that writing helped me organize my thoughts.
It also gave me something meaningful to do during quiet evenings.
Instead of sitting alone and thinking only about my troubles, I could describe the events of the day.
I began keeping a more regular routine.
Each morning, I spent some time walking with my gun, searching for food.
Then I returned to my shelter and worked on improving it.
During the hottest hours, I rested.
Later, I continued digging, cutting wood, or arranging my supplies.
In the evening, I prepared my food and sometimes wrote in my journal.
One day, while exploring near my home, I discovered a kind of wild pigeon.
I shot several birds and found that their meat was good to eat.
This was encouraging because I wanted to increase the variety of my food.
I also continued hunting goats.
They were difficult to approach because they were frightened by movement and sound.
I noticed that goats could see me easily when I walked below them on the hills.
But when I approached from higher ground, they were less likely to notice me.
This observation helped me hunt more successfully.
I began learning about the habits of the animals around me.
Every discovery made life a little easier.
Still, I knew that I could not depend entirely on hunting.
My gunpowder was limited, and I had no way to manufacture more.
I would eventually need other methods of obtaining food.
For the moment, however, I concentrated on completing my home.
I wanted to make it strong enough to protect me from storms and possible dangers.
I also wanted enough storage space to keep my supplies dry and organized.
Some days, I worked so hard that I could barely move by evening.
At other times, rain prevented me from working outside.
But I tried not to waste my time.
I had begun to understand that survival required more than courage.
It required planning, patience, and careful attention to small things.
A simple mistake could cost me valuable supplies or even my life.
As I continued writing in my journal, I felt that my days were becoming more orderly.
I was still a prisoner of the island, but I was no longer completely helpless.
I had begun to build a life for myself.
And although I did not know what the future would bring, I was determined to continue.