The Tale of a Fateful Trip Pt. 3: 1966 (R)
The thing is if I say ‘this needs to be done’ – whatever it is – then you better do it. I know Hinkley’s sneaking off into the jungle to build something. Its bound to be a raft. Whatever. He can chop down every last tree in the jungle and build himself a ocean liner for all I care but he had better not brush me off when I say its time to shore up the huts or repair the pig-pen before we get slammed with another ball-soaker. I am the boss around here and its not a smart move (no matter how many diplomas you got) to fuck with the boss. Goddam all I’m asking is that these people fall in line. You don’t see Gilligan second guessing me.
Prof. Roy Hinkley’s journal. 3/19/66
He’s done it again. Gilligan the intrepid has blindly unearthed further treasures like some idiot savant Jim Hawkins. Responding to his echoing calls, Mary Ann and I (surreptitiously involved in the weaving of a grass and reed sail for the proposed escape craft) raced towards and up the hills on the eastern side of the island where we found him craning precariously from a cave opening some sixty feet above us – one hand gripping a sturdy root-like vine and the other waving at us with a large Japanese flag.
Once we reached the cave for ourselves, we were astonished to discover within a wealth of Japanese military paraphernalia obviously abandoned at the close of the Second World War. There were rifles and ammunition boxes brittle with oxidation. There were multiple crates which contained rations and bottles of rice wine. Most important to me were the remains of a radio transmitter, somewhat abused by time and neglect, but possibly reparable. Gilligan and Mary Ann, however, seemed more excited by the wine.
It would appear this island served as a base, intentional or accidental, for the Japanese navy. The cave was a perfect roost as its entrance within a crevice in the cliff face and the vine curtain concealing it would have made it an ideal naturally camouflaged vantage point. If this island was an outpost during the war, then it stands to reason that our location must be charted somewhere. At the war’s end, American military intelligence would have confiscated all such information, so what puzzles me (and I did state this aloud) is why this island wasn’t included in the search for us? The scenario proffered by the Skipper was that it is highly unlikely that the Japanese surrendered all of its strategic information to the Allies. “Those slants, they’re too crafty a bunch for that,” he said.
His reasoning was solid, if inelegantly relayed, but I was more surprised that he spoke to me at all. Our relationship (such as it is) grows more strained with each passing day and it is not a one-sided dislike on his part. I believe he feels undermined by my intellect and that my various projects for signaling and/or departing this island threaten to spoil his intentions which are increasingly evident: Grumby does not want to leave. And in the face of this and his bullying manner, my own prejudice has become difficult to conceal. I am still, of this writing, not planning on including the Skipper in the project.
Regardless, Gilligan’s discoveries were cause of some excitement amongst the five of us and someone (Mary Ann?) suggested we celebrate. Ginger proposed a luau. Gilligan suggested a birthday party. When I asked whose birthday it was, Gilligan replied, “Mine!” Surprised, I asked him if he knew what calendar day it presently was and he said, “The day before my birthday!” The Skipper then threw his arm around Gilligan and stated that was good enough for him and that tomorrow we shall have a birthday party for Gilligan. Again we, as a whole, acquiesced and Grumby was reassured that his word was law. So tomorrow we throw a birthday party for our beloved simpleton. But presently, I want to examine this radio.
Log of the Minnow: Jonas Grumby, Cptn. March 20, 1966
SKiPPER LET ME RiTE ThiS. Hi SKiPPER! iTS MY BiRTH DAY ToDAY. iM ALL GRoWN UP. WERE GoiNG To HAVE FUN + EAT PiG + DRiNK JAP WiNE + THERES GoiNG To BE PRESENTS. iTS GoiNG To BE FUN! EVRY BoDYS GoiNG To LAF + DANCE ARoUND HAPPY + THEYLL SAY WE LoVE YoU GiLLiGAN WE WANT YoU To BE KiNG oF THE iLAND + iLL SAY oKAY.