(Continuing from Part 25)
After discovering that I could not move my great canoe to the sea, I returned to my ordinary work with a heavy heart.
I had spent many months cutting down a tree and shaping its trunk into a boat. I had imagined that it would carry me away from the island.
Instead, it remained on dry land, too heavy for one man to move.
For some time, I could hardly bear to look at it.
But gradually, my disappointment became less painful.
I reminded myself that I was still alive and had many things for which to be grateful.
I had food, shelter, tools, and a safe place to sleep.
I also had enough work to occupy my days.
I began thinking about how much my life had changed since the shipwreck.
By the time I had completed my canoe, nearly four years had passed since I first reached the island.
Four years!
The thought astonished me.
When I arrived, I had expected to die within a few days.
Now I had survived several rainy seasons, learned to grow crops, and made many useful objects with my own hands.
I had become accustomed to a life that once seemed impossible.
During those years, I had also changed in my thoughts.
Before the shipwreck, I had wanted wealth, travel, and adventure.
I had never been satisfied with a quiet life.
My father had advised me to remain in England and live comfortably, but I had refused.
I had believed that happiness could be found only by seeking something greater.
Now I lived alone, with no money that I could spend and no one to admire my possessions.
I began to understand how little wealth mattered when it could not be used.
Among the things I had rescued from the ship were coins and pieces of gold and silver.
In England, these would have been valuable.
Here, they were almost useless.
I could not buy food with them.
I could not exchange them for clothing or tools.
I could not pay anyone to help me.
A sharp knife was worth more to me than a bag of gold.
A good shovel was more useful than a chest of silver.
I thought about the strange way people measured wealth.
A man might possess a great fortune and still feel unhappy because he wanted more.
Another man might have very little and yet possess everything he needed.
On the island, I had learned to value things according to their usefulness.
I needed enough food to remain healthy.
I needed shelter from the rain.
I needed clothing to protect my body from the sun and insects.
Beyond these necessities, many things that had once seemed important no longer mattered.
This did not mean that I had stopped wishing to return to society.
I still longed to hear another human voice.
But I no longer spent every day complaining about my condition.
I tried to accept the life that had been given to me.
I continued reading the Bible and praying regularly.
These habits helped me remain calm during difficult times.
I also kept track of the passing years by marking my wooden calendar.
Each anniversary reminded me that I had survived another year.
As time passed, another problem became increasingly serious.
My clothing was wearing out.
The clothes I had rescued from the ship had lasted a long time because I used them carefully.
But the heat, rain, and constant work gradually damaged them.
Some garments had become thin and torn.
Others were no longer suitable for wearing.
I could not simply visit a shop and buy new clothes.
I would have to make them myself.
Fortunately, I had saved the skins of many goats that I had killed for food.
At first, I had kept them without knowing exactly how I might use them.
Now I decided to turn them into clothing.
I had never been a tailor.
I knew almost nothing about cutting patterns or sewing garments.
But I possessed needles, thread, and some other small tools rescued from the ship.
I began experimenting.
My first attempts were very poor.
I cut the skins into pieces and tried to join them together.
Sometimes I made the pieces too small.
At other times, the seams were uneven.
The finished garments looked strange and uncomfortable.
But I continued practicing.
Eventually, I managed to make a rough jacket from goatskin.
It was not beautiful, but it protected my body.
I also made a pair of short trousers.
They were loose and awkward, yet useful.
I learned to place the fur on the outside so that rainwater would run off more easily.
This helped keep me dry during showers.
Next, I turned my attention to my head.
The tropical sun was often extremely strong.
I needed a hat that would provide shade and protect me from rain.
I made one from goatskin.
It had a broad, uneven brim that hung down around my face.
The hat looked ridiculous, but I was pleased with it.
It was more useful than fashionable.
I also wanted an umbrella.
During the rainy season, I often had to remain indoors because the rain was too heavy.
At other times, the sun made walking difficult.
An umbrella would help in both conditions.
I remembered seeing large umbrellas during my travels in Brazil.
I tried to copy their construction.
First, I made a wooden frame.
Then I attempted to cover it with goatskin.
My early efforts failed.
Some umbrellas were too heavy.
Others would not open or close properly.
Several had frames that broke when I tried to use them.
I became frustrated, but I refused to abandon the project.
I studied the problem and made changes.
Finally, after many attempts, I produced an umbrella that could be opened and closed.
It was heavy and awkward, but it worked.
I covered it with skins arranged so that rainwater would run down the outside.
When I carried it above my head, it protected me from the sun.
During rain, it helped keep my clothing dry.
I was extremely pleased with this achievement.
I had made something that I once would have purchased without a second thought.
Now I understood the skill and effort required to produce it.
As I examined my new clothing, I imagined how strange I would appear to someone from England.
My goatskin hat, jacket, trousers, and umbrella made me look unlike any gentleman I had known.
But there was nobody on the island to laugh at me.
I cared only that my clothing was useful.
I had learned that appearance mattered very little when a person was alone.
What mattered was staying healthy, comfortable, and prepared.
I continued improving my possessions and caring for my home.
My great canoe still lay useless in the woods.
But I had not completely abandoned the dream of escaping.
I was beginning to think that a smaller boat, built closer to the shore, might succeed where the first had failed.
This time, however, I would plan carefully before beginning.
I had learned that patience and good judgment were as necessary as strength.