Life 2 the Limit

Life 2 the Limit is taking place right now on a remote island in south-east Asia. This disparate group of six South Africans, three Canadians and a Norwegian is living the adventure of their lives: surviving alone on a jungle island, with no support, food or shelter – only what they can make, hunt or catch for themselves.

Life 2 the Limit is a kind of social experiment. Not only did most of the adventurers meet for the first time just a couple of days before landing on the island, they must deal with each other under the extreme stressors of hunger, astonishing heat, physical exhaustion and lack of sleep – not to mention what happens when 10 strong A-type personalities (who else would go for this?) get together. Meet the participants, and read their day-by-day account of what it's like to live Life 2 the Limit

Angi Stanford
Lisa Duthie
Matt Atkinson
Hueno Solsona
Joe Stark
Jono Marcus
Kristen Kaethler
Maya Blix
Nick Bennett
Saul Kornik

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18

Angi,42, says her life philosophy is about balancing her 7 Fs: family, friends, finances, faith, freedom, fitness and fun. She has a black belt in karate, loves horse riding, mountain biking and sailing. She also coaches and plays hockey part time and if an adventure race comes along - she's there!

Currently living in: Stellenbosch, South Africa

What's your occupation? I am a teacher, nurse, psychologist, cook, entertainer, cleaner, coach, arbitrator and more... What more could a woman want? I am a very occupied mom and love it!

Status: feeling good, but 29 days to go!

A big day for us all. Long anticipated, long planned for. My first impressions are:

1. The island is much bigger and wilder than expected.

2. The beach is very small, maybe 500m long. Feels very cut-off, insular, as there are kilometres of jungle closely lining the coast between us and a few other smaller beaches that we saw from the boat.

3. Sadness at the rubbish (bottles, rope, polystyrene etc) all over the high-tide mark.

4. Happiness, having all this rubbish to make things like traps, shelter, water-collecting containers etc.

‘Our’ beach is about 500m long. There’s a tiny lagoon (+- 1 000 square metres) about 350m from the right-hand side (looking from the sea), which has a stream leading into it (there are some mangrove trees there too). Our base camp (under big tree right on the beach) is 60m to the right of that, and the sleeping quarters are in a copse of trees another 100m to the right. Quite pleasant except for the rubbish around us.

My hammock is on the furthermost right-hand side, closest to the beach, with the spring high water mark half way under! The moon is waning … but I’ll have to take care before the next spring tide comes along.

A big highlight for me (could well have been a lowlight, though) came this afternoon when Matt and I went snorkelling. A lot of dead hard coral the first 100m out, and although the variety and diversity, rather than the amount of fish, was wonderful to see, the seabed was grey and lifeless. We also saw a lone lionfish – quite awesome.

Well, to my adrenaline rush: swimming casually past the rocky point, absorbed by the underwater life, a rip current caught us, pulling us away from the island. Swimming as hard as I could I was still slowly going backwards. Jolly scary! Saw the rocks (full of long-spined sea urchins!), swam towards them and eventually got there. It was almost my first AND last day on our island!

Status: Got to go, sun risen …

Woke up with a puddle in bed!

Explored east headland. Found a little waterfall coming straight into the sea. Very pretty, clean. Signs of logging of hardwood.

Rocks covered in millions of oysters – ate one (Jono allergic to mussels – he won’t eat these.)

Sat for two hours in a beautiful boulder bay and built a raft (rafty things were there, begging to go out to sea again).

Saw a lobster on the way back. Luckily we couldn’t catch him – he may be the only one left. Done hours of snorkelling now and seen very little!

Status: Day 6: Happy Birthday Vin!

Happy Birthday Vin! I love you (even though I think you get this three days later).

Feeling a bit weaker this morning. When I get up I’m dizzy for a while. I’m thankful for my effervescent ‘Lift-off’ tablets from Denise, which I threw in my pack at the last minute. Taking a tiny bite each morning for energy. My only ‘sugars’ so far. Wish I’d brought more.

Saw three sea eagles and another similar eagle, except it has white on the front part of its wing (Dave, Brian … do you know what it could be?)

Also a very loud kingfisher-type bird. Teenage chicken size, russet with a prominent red beak.

Treat for the day: sitting out at sea on our little raft (it wants to fall over if all three of us want to be on it…). Joe stole our outrigger pole to build a sun shelter – so have to look for another one soon.

But sitting out 500m away from the beach, looking back at the jungle, seeing the hills, the topography (seeing no fruit trees, just one jack fruit only)… jigging away (this one isn’t a dance but a form of fishing.)

Two hours of bliss, ending in a magnificent sunset with majestic clouds building overhead, and then swimming back in the half dark.

Status Day 8: Are we living life to the limit?

Surprise! We put it to the group to move home and unanimously they voted yes!

Day 8 was also the day of the great mass expedition. With the promise of possible food, seven of us attempted what was told to us was an hour hike through the jungle to the other side of the island and a ranger’s cabin.

Well, many, many hours later, a discouraged group returned after some adrenaline (gained by getting lost a few times) and very little else. There's a feeling of disillusion in camp tonight.

Lisa and I tried luring from our raft for a few hours before dark. Beautiful, floating gently, watching the activity or rather the lack of it in camp. Peaceful.

Questions I am starting to ask:

Some of our group are just existing, conserving energy, waiting for 30 days to end. Others are making plans, taking action, trying to survive.

Who of these are living life to the limit? Who are going to ‘make’ the 30 days? And is it worth it?

Status Day 9: Another special sunset

Once again I woke up in the dark, only the birds indicating that dawn was near. Lisa and I went off fishing from the east end boulders. So few fish. Even Matt, the great fisherman, has given up.

One sign of hope: when my lure got caught in between the oysters about 2m from where I was, a few hundred smallish mackerel, dark blue with silver sides, came and spent about a minute in a frenzy around my lure. If only I had Nick’s throw net …

After three of four days of exploration I had decided to take today off to rest my scraped and blistered feet. When Huenu asked me to go along on a second jungle trek to find the ranger’s cabin I reluctantly agreed as nobody else wanted to go with her. At the last minute Saul joined us (sore stomach and all).

Another exhausting, fruitless (literally) jungle trek.

Lisa and I went fishing in the afternoon again. Just two bites, but got to see our third sunset – a private and special moment.

Food found and consumed so far by all (or most) of us:

Reef fish – the bulk of which has been consumed by the group. Is this right?

Sea cucumbers – Huenu only.

Lizards (some of group)

¼ bottle rum

¼ bottle Pepsi

About five or six coconuts

Piece of washed up cucumber (Lisa)

Half a rotten banana (Lisa and Angi)

Hermit crabs of all sizes by the dozen

A bite of a rotten washed-up watermelon (Angi)

Lisa broached the possibility of a few of us going on an extended excursion (right around the island), looking for possible resources. Group is open to it, but Huenu not at all. Understandable in her position – but to sit on the beach doing nothing for the next 20 days!?! Is this Life to the limit? Maybe. I mustn’t be so judgemental. We all see things differently.

Status: Day 10

Up early and went fishing on my own. Had a wonderful bite – a long, thin fish, about 30cm, with a long snout, took my lure, flew up into the air three times … and then left, escaped …

Went back to a slowly awakening camp, packed all my gear (double so far, with all the coral I have collected) and got ready for the big move! We’re going to a new home, a new beach. The middle beach of the three that Matt, Lisa and I discovered and explored.

It’s absolutely beautiful! The clear, cool, fresh stream water runs to the sea. The waterfall is maybe 40m upstream, sweet, sweet water. What a change after the brak water from our last beach.

Snorkelled (without a snorkel) and saw not much different. Much dead coral, a few reef fish, lovely giant clams with purple, green or mottled-green and yellow lips, as well as a few soft corals.

Fished – Lisa caught and returned a tiny green reef fish.

Watched our fourth sunset from the vantage of the eastern point before returning to camp. In spite of our move to such a wonderful spot, most still seem without energy and pretty miserable.

Status Day 12: Still looking, still trying, still hoping.

Awoke to a downpour of note at three or four in the morning. Everything is sopping wet! Too bad. Went back to sleep in my puddle in my hammock.

The weather patterns have changed. From NE winds and late afternoon thunderstorms we now have winds from the NW bringing low cloud and humidity. Are the monsoon rains about to start?

It rained this morning. Some spent the time by the fires, others in the sea – both to keep warm.

Later Lisa and I swam around the west point to explore the third beach, but spied two boats, large tent and men snorkelling – probably collecting shells like the last ones we saw on Day 7. Somehow the situation didn’t feel too friendly and I really didn’t think they wanted company, so we hid and returned to camp.

So we decided to go east instead, helping Matt en route set the crab trap (the crabs had munched our fish heads and then escaped the night before).

Had a lovely quiet afternoon beachcombing the fine, fine sands of beach one.

Back home to our same (but delicious) meal of the last nine days: a cup of chicken stock with two dessert spoonfuls of beans, rice, lentils (for Lisa, Matt and I and now Kristen). The rest have their rice and reef fish.

Almost two weeks on the island now! Had some great adventures, but I am now feeling quite dizzy and my energy levels have dropped dramatically. Matt, Lisa and my plans of circumnavigating the island were scuppered early on by Huenu who said if we go then we’ll be kicked off the challenge!

My argument: but we are still on the island! Well, too late now – no food of consequence found, yet. Still looking, still trying, still hoping.

Status Day 13: A lovely long skinny dip – our highlight for the day. Food for Matt, Lisa, Kristen and me for the next week is: one cup broth made of chicken stock and spices, and then our main meal is a cup of broth PLUS about two dessert spoons of cooked rice, beans and lentils! So, so delicious. We really look forward to our ‘meals’ – they have become a milepost, an escape. On Day 19 we have no food left… only tiny oysters if you have the energy to go and harvest them.

Matt, Lisa and I went exploring/scavenging on beach 3 today (after we saw the poachers leave). Between the mess and rubbish they left behind, we found a tiny bag of charcoal and half a sugary coconut cookie… Oh how delicious and how we savoured it! I will look at homeless people in a whole new light from now on. How difficult it must be to get out of their situation. Just looking at ourselves here, only 13 days gone: lethargic, lazy, careless. Exploring third beach and the point, looking westwards, seeing three more smaller beaches in the distance. Will we still be able to go so far? The seas were rough and with doctor’s orders not to swim for three days (sore, blocked ears with infection that Joe’s fixing for me), we didn’t go further.

Lisa and I stayed on for a while, going for a lovely long skinny dip – our highlight for the day. (Good advice, Bertus!)

Status Day 16: Just passed the halfway mark! How much longer will I be here? With sharing my food I have only enough to the 18^th. Thoughts, reasons, decisions. Up early this morning as I have the video camera – lovely, cool, peaceful. Sunrise, crabs feeding, eagles soaring. Without realising it we’ve experienced the changing of seasons while here on our second beach. When we first arrived some of the big trees had big red leaves on the nearly empty branches. They all now have small bright green ones – hardly a red one to be seen.

Went goggling and did some underwater photography. Saw a family of five clown fish (Nemos) fiercely guarding their soft coral. Also had a school of various reef fish following us around (hope you guys don’t get eaten tonight!) Manning the video camera in its case that prefers the surface, the bobbing waves and not having flippers was quite a challenge in movie making.

Later we went over to third beach to scavenge, but all the spring high tide had left us was masses of rope, bottles, lightbulbs (from the chokka boats) other rubbish and one packet of chilli powder. Oh yes, and six giant clam shells. Hoping to bring the big green one home for Luke. Back home to our long-awaited only meal of the day – one cup of chicken broth, with two dessert spoons of rice, mung beans and lentils. Oh so delicious. To bed now, mmmmm. NO rain for a few days, but the thunder and lightning storms are out at sea, waiting.

Soon the north-east monsoon will be changing to a north-westerly, bringing moisture (rain) from the Indian ocean. Oh, how that will affect our mood and survival instincts.

Day 17 Status: Energy has seeped away. Energy has seeped away; every time I get up I have head rushes/postural hypertension, body taking strain. I’ve probably lost about 4kg; I can feel my bones where before it was well padded. I’m also brown all over and struggling not to resemble a wrinkled walnut. Our survival skills as a group haven’t been good. After not being successful in finding decent food from about Day 4, most have decided to conserve the energy they have and just wait out the 30 days! Not the proactive approach to survival that I envisioned, but I suppose a form of one, especially when you know that rescue will come on a certain date.

Each day so far has brought me a special gift. Today in my tiredness I did not even bother to look out for it. So it decided to announce itself loudly and with much passion! A thunder and lightning storm of NOTE, just when I was happily snug in my hammock and so, so tired. Just wrapped myself in two black rubbish bags and waited out the storm, inevitably getting sopping wet in a few minutes. Now what? So got up when the rain stopped, took all my drenched clothes off, put on the only dry ones I had left: T-shirt, broeks and khikoi and then wandered the beach. The sand was still warm so I dug a trench about a foot deep (down there was even warmer) and had a lovely night’s sleep for once. This was only the third time that I wasn’t cold... BLISS!

Day 18 Status: Decision made!

Reasons for leaving way outweigh those of staying. Nothing has changed and as a team we haven’t managed to make a positive change in improving our ‘survival rate’. So, I will be leaving tomorrow. Sad in a way, leaving the others behind, but excited to go away to keep living Life 2 the Limit. Lisa and I plan to do some research of the area’s marine reserves and proactively promote awareness with the locals. We would also like to make contact with South African adventurer Mike Horn who recently did research in this area. So we’re excited about the new challenges ahead!

Our last day! Visited my favourite spots for a last time: the waterfall and east and west points with their lovely views. What a wonderful experience I have had.It’s been totally humbling and awe-inspiring. The appreciation I now have for ‘normal’ life has risen a thousand times. I will now handle problems with patience and calmness. How I interact with people will now be with gentleness and seeking understanding. How I see the world will be with grateful eyes, truthful lips and an open and receptive mind. Thank you all, friends, strangers and family, for sticking by me, encouraging me and giving me inspiration. I love you. J

Status: Feel great!

10% done!

Maya feeling quite weak. Jono looking a bit bleak. (He, Kristen and Matt didn’t bring any rice or anything to supplement their diet, or not, in this case …) Hoping things will change soon.

Matt, Nick and myself ventured up the river. We were going to be seven, but Huenu burnt her big toe in the fire and the others looked a bit drained.

Beautiful. Into the jungle. The smells were awesome. Found some blossoms, smelt like jasmine. Saw quite a few butterflies while napping beside the stream during the midday heat.

Found the waterfall – only a foot and a half big, but delicious, delicious water! Ended the day with another, fiercer rainstorm. Everything got wet! Wet to bed, too bad. At least I’m as clean as a whistle.

Status Day 11: One third of the way!

Up early in the dark and went exploring on my own. Found a large deckchair cushion, almost perfect fish trap and some soft rubber bits to sit on around the camp fire (our bums are sore – getting less padded).

Returning was a mission. Across large boulders and slippery rocks. ‘Mo ichi do’ (‘just one more time’ in Japanese) was what I repeated to myself on this trip – what my karate Sensei would be telling me if he was here!

Then I joined the rest for a lazy day. Washed my hair for the first time (skande!) but already after a swim in the sea it’s back to a mixture of ringlets and dreads!

A bit of a turning point for me today. A third of the way.

Lisa and I have noticed that Kristen looks a bit lonely and miserable, although very bravely keeps going. She brought no food along, has all the time put others before herself and has now stopped eating reef fish too.

We’ve decided to look after her and now will divide our food by four. This means my rations of two dessert spoons of uncooked rice, beans and lentils a day that could have lasted 30 days will definitely not anymore! ‘Life 2 the Limit – selfless endurance’ … another reason justifying my actions.

Dearest family and friends: I’m missing you, love reading my messages on the inside of my bag … and love you all so much. X

Status Day 14: If we were real survivors things would have to change drastically!

Really rough seas last night. Matt and my fish/crab trap was smashed to smithereens! Haven’t caught anything with yet anyway! C’est la vie.

I am so enjoying getting up before dawn. Cool, quiet, sweet jungle smell… Watching small fish jumping up like a cloud, trying to outfox a little-larger fish; eagles soaring, searching; and crabs on a quick last morsel hunt.

Feeling ‘heavy’ today. Been sitting around chatting and making Nick’s birthday present, as well as having a lethargic dip in this beautiful turquoise sea.

Questions rearing their heads: Life 2 the Limit? This conveys action, to me. Calls for one to be proactive! But due to circumstances (ie no food caught and not going further afield to search for alternatives), we are now lying around and waiting, existing, just …

If we were real survivors (not knowing when rescue would come) things would have to change drastically!

Went to my hammock with 30-plus droning chukka boats lighting up the horizon, like dawn coming from the north.

Status Day 15: The fatties are doing well.

Been ‘surviving’ for two weeks now. Spent another lazy day at camp. Sea still rough and my sore ear still stopping me from going snorkelling – or goggling, actually, as we have no snorkel.

Lisa and I want to document the state of the coral reef. Is this desecration due to environmental factors? We’d like to investigate what we have witnessed and follow up on it too.

A day of existing only. Rest, walk, rest, read, swim, rest, eat, rest, rest. Getting up too quickly brings bad dizziness. My muscles are feeling ‘pap’. I hope my body isn’t; using them to fuel itself, as I still have a bit of excess around my middle!

Interestingly, the three ‘fatties’ (Matt, Lisa and myself) are doing the best. We still manage to go for walks and swims and explorations. The very thin ones have been down since Day 3! Something to say for fat … it’s not all bad.

I have really enjoyed reading and re-reading my messages from all my loved ones. Thanks so much all of you, you are in my thoughts, dreams and prayers, and I so, so look forward to coming home.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18

Lisa, 28, is an elementary school teacher from Vancouver, and she loves to laugh and have a good time.

She is passionate about her job teaching kids and loves the positive outlook they have! Lisa is an avid traveler, and won't miss an opportunity to drag her surfboard along with her on an adventure to find the perfect wave.

Status: Renewed hope for fish is very encouraging – even a mini meal would be welcome.

Itchy! Mosquitoes love me, apparently. They devoured me last night after the rain. They’re incredibly small but they usually bite twice, adding insult to injury.

After a fruitless fishing expedition off the point, it seems we will have to start looking for edible plants. Joe saw some type of palm behind his hammock spot, so armed with a saw, knife and our SA Survival book we went to see if we could find an edible palm heart. We discovered that the woody centre has a slightly sweet taste, and is quite pleasant to chew on. After an edibility test we’ll probably come back tomorrow and hack some for the group.

My treat of today was finding a nub of cucumber washed up on the beach. I never knew cucumber tasted so good! We also found a banana tree, but the bananas are so small they’re inedible (even though we tried).

Nick caught a fish which we shared for dinner – one bite each. I’m amazed at how good I feel, even though we haven’t had much to eat!

The uplifting news of the day was that the right side of our bay, though less accessible, has far more fish, according to a report from Saul and Jono, who went to put out a fish trap there last night in the midst of a crazy rainstorm.

We collected more than 30 litres of rain water today, now that we have perfected our rain-catching equipment – but that consists of two garbage bags, so you get an idea of how hard it rains. So hard you can’t see more than 20m at times.

Status: Tired, hungry, but satisfied and hopeful.

Today was a great day! Matt, Angi and I went on a mission beyond the right hand point from our beach, looking for a better place to fish. We swam three bays past ours, and while any chance of fishing from shore looks bleak, we did make some progress – in the form of a raft!

In the first bay we discovered a really beautiful stream which we followed inland to a series of little pools and waterfalls. There were signs of logging, as there a few remnant logs strewn about. After enjoying the coolness of the jungle during the hot part of the day, we moved on.

The third bay was rocky with a lot of junk washed up on it – in the middle of which we found the perfect beginnings of a raft! We’d already concluded that we need to get out into deeper water if we’re to catch fish of any decent size.

We spent two hours creating the raft and then another hour or hour and a half swimming it back home. An anchor and we’ll be set!

This raft gives me hope – maybe if we’re able to go to deeper water we’ll get the big fish we so desperately need. Overall, five and a half hours well spent!

Status: Day 6: Adventure is keeping me going.

Today Matt, Angi and I swam our raft out in earnest at about 4pm and anchored it about 100m off the point, armed with some fancy lures that Matt assured us would attract fish if there were any, given that the bay was cleared out by the gill netters yesterday.

While we were out there, without so much as a look from a fish, we heard the familiar put-put sound of a boat coming. Sure enough it was the same fishermen as yesterday. They again closed off the bay with their gill nets. This time we thought with our raft we could relieve the fishermen of a couple of fish for dinner. But they must have been wary of us though, because unlike last night they didn’t leave, but parked in the side of the bay to wait for dark.

We moved the raft to a new spot and tried our luck again, to no avail.

That night Saul and Nick had netted 11 fish, in addition to the 14 we ate for brunch.

This sparked a good after-dinner discussion about the ethics of what we are doing. The small fish we’re eating for ‘survival’ are in fact reef fish – species that have been decimated by the aquarium trade and the decline of coral reef habitat and are now protected by law.

Most of the group is not comfortable killing these fish for a survival ‘game’. We calculated that if we pull 25 fish a day for another 25 days, that will be 625 fish we will have selfishly killed.

We’re asking ourselves why we’re here. Is it to make 30 days, even if that means destroying an already fragile ecosystem? Is it to ‘survive’ 30 days even if that means sitting all day drinking water, not moving, and sleeping, in short, expending as little energy as possible?

Not me, that’s not why I came. I came to test my skills – skills that only work assuming there is food to catch/eat. I came to explore, for adventure. I came for personal growth, and thus far, all energy has been spent on trying to find food for the next meal.

The hunger doesn’t bother me, nor the weakness (although I will never look at a hungry person the same way, that I assure you), but the idea of sitting on this insular beach with no way to help myself because there are no resources with which to do so, does bother me.

The consensus is that we must exhaust all possible food resources, so this means looking for more plants, eating the oysters that plaster the rocks (though they may be too hard to get) and trying to catch the rock crabs that leap off the rocks into the sea the moment you get too close, as though they’re teasing.

Tomorrow Matt, Angi and I (who have become quite a team as we seem the most keen to explore even though it takes energy) are setting off to swim the few kilometres to a group of beaches to the left.

Who knows, maybe one will reveal an oasis filled with delicious fruit trees in full ripeness, a babbling brook and a host of angels ready to fan us with palm fronds and feed us dates. You never know …

Status Day 8: Faced with a tough decision.

Jungle trek day! We spent about three hours hiking through some of the thickest, most pristine jungle I have ever seen.

The most curious thing about the jungle was how devoid of wildlife it was (well, that’s the curious thing about the island in general).

The most exciting thing to happen to me today was finding a small, half mushed banana on the beach. Angi and I shared the two good bites and it was amazing.

The biggest bummer about today was that the powers that be kyboshed our plan. Unfortunately we’re faced with either leaving the challenge to go do the adventure, or remain on the island as part of the group, and make the best of the limited resources on our beach.

Tough choice! I want to still be part of the group, but I really want to push myself in a way that empowers me, and fulfils my dreams of testing my mental and physical strength.

Status Day 9: My mind is in a spin today – what to do.

Got up before dawn to go fishing. Angi had four strikes so with some renewed hope we’ll try again this evening.

My mind is in a spin today – what to do. I am by nature a loyal person, sometimes to my detriment, I’m told. This quality makes me want to stay with the group and stick out the 30 days. However, I don’t feel I’m learning much.

I spent the majority of the day lying in the shade of a tree, feeling very much like I was on a beach holiday – minus the umbrella drink.

It’s been suggested that in the absence of some new food source, we may spend the last part of the challenge doing this all day, every day, to conserve energy.

This seems to me like living life below the limit. I feel like this attitude of ‘just hang in there till Day 30’ would be drastically different if there was no guarantee that we’d be picked up on Day 30. If this was the case, sitting around wouldn’t be an option, and that would push us to the limit.

Tomorrow is moving day – the group is moving to one of the beaches Matt, Angi and I found in our explorations. I hope it brings renewed energy and excitement to the group!

Status Day 10: Hoping new surroundings will give the group new life.

Moving day today – everyone was pretty keen to go. We finally got to show the others the cool, fresh water we would now enjoy as opposed to the brackish water from the original beach.

The rest of the day was spent setting up house. Angi and I have a lovely new hammock tree that we’re quite excited about!

Status Day 11: A day of rest and a big decision.

Nothing exciting happened today – other than that we ate some oysters. We (Angi and I) did the same as the rest of the team, which was to lie under a tree all day.

The big revelation of the day for us had to do with our island circumnavigation trip. We’d still like to do it, and think it would really spice this experience up, but it has been deemed too dangerous. If we want to do it, not only do we have to leave the challenge, but we also have to go back to the ‘home’ island and then come all the way back.

The point of our trip was to continue the survival experience. All the logistics, not to mention the fact that we’d have to leave the challenge, have taken the joy out of this adventure.

For now we have decided to stay in the challenge and instead continue to explore the island as best we can through day trips and hopefully some overnight trips too.

Status Day 12: Homemaking on the range.

It rained at about 3.30 this morning. Not just a pleasant little mist, but a full on downpour. Half my hammock got soaked, but I managed to curl up in the dry part and doze off until after sunrise.

First priority today is rain-proofing my hammock – as rain seems to be a regular occurrence, despite what we were told to expect.

It’s all good though – it adds to the experience as I see it. Otherwise today was another mellow day. The rain cleared up mid-morning and the day got hot and dried us out :).

Angi and I domesticated our hammock tree by installing a little cupboard, a hanging basket shelf and sweeping the leaves out. Overall our tree looks like a real little home now.

Status Day 13: Running on empty, but still looking for adventure.

Energy levels are definitely waning. Today Matt, Angi and I went to third beach (west of our beach) intending to go to the next one. However, after we climbed out to the long point at the end of the beach, we realised we didn’t have the energy to walk to the next one, and swimming wasn’t an option as the sea is so rough because of strong winds for the last few days.

So, adventure will have to wait. On the way back, Angi and I stopped while Matt carried on, and so we took the opportunity for a skinny dip – a rare treat!

Now it’s back to lying under our tree to nap, write and think.

The problem with not having the energy to do much is you are left with a lot of time to while away, and this is when I find hunger most annoying. Still, it feels pretty decadent to be lying on a tropical beach without a care – because we weren’t able to bring any with us in our five-litre bags!

Not sure what limit I’m pushing – but hey, might as well enjoy it, since we’re not allowed to do much else.

Status Day 16: Split decision

Today Angi and I took some underwater photos and video of the sea life in our bay. Some photos show nice coral and fish, while others show (we hope) the damage to the reefs here. Matt, Angi and I also went over to the next beach to see what we could find – some beautiful giant clam shells washed up.

The big news for me is that I’ve decided I will leave the challenge on the 19^th, barring any unforeseen changes in circumstance. I have spent several days thinking about my reasons for leaving and staying. I have done all the adventuring I’m allowed to do within the ‘rules’ and I’m no longer learning new survival skills, as group energy levels are low and everyone is doing the bare minimum to get by.

I’m not prepared sit and starve my way to 30 days. For one thing, I want to come back strong and healthy. I also feel like I can use the last 11 days for a better cause. I want to go back to home base island and try to give back to the community we have been using for this trip.

I would like to try to raise awareness of the garbage on the beaches by doing beach clean-ups; I would also like to go and help out this really nice local girl get her restaurant/bar fixed up, as she showed us a great deal of kindness and generosity when we first arrived.

Basically I think the rest of this time would be better spent living my ‘life to the limit’ by reaching out to people and giving of myself rather than merely existing on an island, getting by on a few spoonfuls of rice and beans a day.

Day 17 status: Biding time

Today was a quiet day. I worked on a little present for my mother, played a game of cards with some of the group and rested a little. Angi and I both feel tired and weak today. I for one can’t wait for the 19^th to come. Poor Jono’s back is sore, and he has spent the last two days lying down. I hope he will feel better soon. He’s under the care of Doc Joe, so he’s in good hands. There is thunder and lightning tonight, and it’s threatening to rain but I’m hoping it will hold off for two more days.

Status: On the island and ready to do this thing.

We arrived sometime around noonish. After disembarking from our boat we were all keen to get a feel for our new home.

After looking around we realised there is no shortage of human refuse on the beach, but the natural resources – ie food – would be much harder to come by. My exploration resulted in discovering an excellent sun hat, a number of useful baskets, ropes and flip-flops for the group! Unfortunately we quickly realised that the sand is too coarse for flip-flops to be of much use.

After setting up our hammocks, gathering and filtering water and getting a fire going, we sat down to a tasty dinner of boiled hermit crabs. Surprisingly the meat on these is very tasty, though a lot of work to get at. They also have this weird rear end which makes them look like little aliens, and isn’t good to eat.

Food today was scarce – a few bites of coconut and about 5g of crab meat.

Still, we just got here, so I’m hopeful we’ll discover more once we’ve got our bearings a little.

I’m tired, but still very excited to explore tomorrow, set up camp a little more and see what our options are. I’m off to try out my Hennesy Hammock and I have high hopes for a good night’s sleep.

Status Day 15: The sad truth

Today I’m going to write about the sorry state of the supposed ‘marine paradise’ we are in. It’s sad, though all the more relevant considering I’m here raising money for Surfrider Foundation, a charity dedicated to raising awareness of the protection of our vulnerable coastal marine ecosystems.

This is the island:

The beaches are covered in washed-up trash, from polystyrene in all shapes and sizes, to old fishing nets/floats, plastic bottles of all descriptions, and light bulbs, yes, light bulbs. Each tide washes new trash in.

Fishing boats and illegal shell poaching boats go back and forth, raping the ocean of its marine life. Where there should be an abundance of fish, there is none. In fact, we have not been able to catch one fish using lures or hook and bait, and have given up as the fish just aren’t there.

Maybe it’s because of the state of the ocean floor. Coral graveyards for miles. Matt and I swam for hours one day and saw only remnants of what should have been a rich sea floor. Is it climate change or the incessant trawler boat traffic?

And then there are the squid boats. Angi and I counted 30 visible (and audible) boats last night. Huge, brightly lit ships use thousands of watts to attract thousands of tons of squid. When the lights burn out these giant bulbs are chucked overboard to wash up on a beach somewhere.

The blatant disrespect for our ocean is so pitifully apparent here. It makes me glad to be part of Surfrider Foundation.

Status Day 18: The final countdown …

It deluged again last night, and though my hammock is protected, I spent a miserable, damp night. Tonight is my LAST NIGHT. Angi and I have planned a visit to the waterfall, a nice swim in the bay, and finishing up making presents to end our time on the island. I tell you, tomorrow can’t come quickly enough!

I am so looking forward to moving on, to starting the next leg of this journey, and to give back a little after living on this island for three weeks, generally looking after ourselves.

Status Day 14: Keeping busy

Today I swam across the bay and back. It’s quite wide, so I reckon I probably swam about 800m or so. It felt good to be swimming. Being in the water is about the only way to get comfortable. I also wanted to do something today, and since the rest of the day promised to be mostly lying about, I was glad I went. I’m on ‘camera duty’ today, but in the heat of the day there isn’t much to film.

Today I whittled a flute out of bamboo. Pretty good for a first attempt, though it’s sort of hard to get it to make all of the sounds. I’m also working on a birthday present for Nick with Angi – we’re making him a memento from the island. I’ll take a photo when it’s done.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18

Matt, 50, is from Calgary, Canada. He lives for fly fishing; when not on the river he enjoys climbing, rafting, skiing and photography. He looks forward to testing his fishing skills in a survival environment and hopes to build a luxurious tree house if there is such a thing as spare time.

Status: Hope finds you when least expected

We decided last night to split into two groups and explore before the sun becomes too hot. Saul, Lisa and I were going to fish the point, the rest going upriver. Fishing the point proved futile, and on our return we discovered the river trip was off – most were feeling the lack of food.

Nick, Angi and I then tackled the river. The banks and inland were impassable, so we simply waded through the mass of logs, roots and vines. The river narrowed to almost nothing, pushing through a mass of growth. Angi found a channel clear of undergrowth, and we entered the type of jungle I had envisioned. Giant bamboo, palms, cool vines, sweet, clean water trickling through the rocks. The temperature was also at least 10 degrees cooler.

We followed this paradise up to a breakdown of large boulders – a beautiful waterfall during rainy season, now just a trickle. Angi explored the cave to find many bats, but no passage.

We hiked through the jungle to see if we could skirt the breakdown, but the steep terrain and our limited energy sent us back. We stopped at a beautiful spot and had a nap while colourful butterflies flitted about. Mentally uplifted, we headed back to camp.

Tough day for food. The coconuts are gone. While soaking in the ocean I notice a banana tree. Hiking up, we found tiny bananas. My mouth watered in anticipation, but they were too small and rock hard. Even after cooking they provided little.

The rains came again just before dark and this time it really rained. Joe collected over 10 litres of rainwater. Nick caught a beautiful reef fish with his throw net. I didn’t partake although I did show them how to kill it. This saddens me.

Dinner was boiled, hard bananas that weren’t edible, and our little reef fish. Tough day in the food department!

Did I mention that sleeping in the sand is not pleasant?

Status: Day 6: Netting the bay

One fish on the line at the river. Today was raft repair. Tough day for me, no energy. I can’t eat the reef fish anymore and the lack of food is taking its toll. We swam the raft out past the point to try get at some real fish. As we were fishing, the boat showed up and set their net right next to us across the bay.

No wonder there are no fish.

There are also no birds nor signs of any wildlife, almost surreal.

No rain tonight and back to the beach to sleep.

Fell asleep thinking of you guys and cursing the squid boats.

Status Day 8: The bear went over the mountain.

A rousing breakfast of nothing. The group has decided that we are heading up the river to the other side of the island to a ranger station. Huenu’s ranger friend says it’s an hour’s trip. I find this odd as the island is 2-3km wide and I estimate a top speed of 0.5km/h.

Joe, Maya and Nick stay behind while the rest of us slog through vines, over boulders and through tortured underbrush for two hours, the humidity killing me. Kristen, Angi and Lisa decide to turn back, a very wise decision, as we were about to find out.

We slog until the river ends and then bushwhack through jungle. It takes forever to reach the top. We see nothing under the canopy. We pick a creek bed and head down. Saul checks his compass and it says NW. We should be heading due south. We’re committed so we bushwhack around cliffs, over boulders and through twisted vines, eventually coming to a cove east of our beach. A swim brings us home. We are all trashed and I have drunk five litres of water.

Dinner consisted of pretty much nothing. Rain, squid boats and fitful sleep await.

Status Day 9: The day off

A resting day. I’m going to follow the group routine of sleeping, resting and writing throughout the day. I watch others prepare rice for breakfast and feel no animosity. I try sleeping, but it does not come. I stare at the leaves above me and plan changes to my life when I return.

I take a walk, set up a bonfire and generally fritter about – the no food thing is draining.

Giant halogen light bulbs wash up on the beach – I guess squid boats don’t recycle.

Status Day 10: A little piece of heaven.

The big move to the beach Angi, Lisa and I found previously. Everyone is quite pleased with the fresh water. After set up I head to the west beach, Lisa joining in and we search for coconuts. I opened four, no easy task, none good.

This bay is in worse shape than the last. The first 30m is a mass of shattered and broken coral. A pleasant surprise was a strip of water adjacent to the east point. It is absolutely stunning, corals and reef fish of all kinds, lion fish, puffers, butterfly and wrasses, to name a few.

Boulders offer a myriad hiding spots and the fish swim with you unafraid. I can only imagine what a virgin reef could look like.

I try sleeping with my hammock in the sand, but it’s similar to being in a hot house. Sleep does not come.

Status Day 11: Good morning sunshine

A ‘not much’ day, breakfast for those that take it is reef fish. It is the same fish all the time. As Jono and Saul bait with sea urchins, the fish that like urchins end up in the pot.

Rice is cooked by those that have it. Seven people have brought rice and vitamins, and I am one of the three with neither. Angi and Lisa graciously share a few spoonfuls at dinner. I evaluate in my mind the food options and wonder if this place is barren or are we just inept? In the sea, reef fish; not many but enough. But unless truly threatened with starvation I choose to leave alone.

There is no seaweed of any kind, crabs inhabit the rocks but to date we’ve been unable to catch any; I hope to remedy that.

Good eating fish are beyond our reach – a boat equipped with rod and reel is required. Given the fishing pressure, even that may be insufficient.

There are also tiny oysters on the point, but collecting is problematic. The bounty from the sea I expected is not there. The land is much the same story. No birds, some small shrew-type creatures and a few large lizards are all we have seen. The group’s efforts to trap have been unsuccessful – I’m not sure I want to try.

I have scoured the shoreline, no fruit trees or edible plants. There are a few palms that I intend to sample.

I modify a trap Angi has found, bait it with fish heads and oysters, and place it at the point for the rock crabs. My hunger grows and any effort takes quite a force of will.

I string my hammock so it just touches the ground – this will work. After an hour I quietly take it down and take to the beach using it like a sleeping bag.

I sleep only to be woken by a torrential downpour. It’s around 3am.

We huddle under Nick’s hammock. When the rain subsides I head to base camp and get a fire going, the others join and warm up.

Another rainstorm hits as the sun comes up.

Status Day 12: Days in limbo.

When the rains abate, Jono, Saul and Huenu go fishing. I head to my crab trap, Angi joins in. The ocean swell is cool but tiring. No crabs, but the little devils have stolen the bait.

Crabs 1, Matt 0. Some modifications and I’ll be back.

The group settles in for the usual routine of sleeping and writing. I join in and have an hour’s nap. Joe, Nick and I discuss some philosophical topics and Joe asks me a list of questions he plans on posting, and yes, bacon being cooked is my favourite smell.

Modified and baited the crab traps. Setting the trap proved interesting in the swell. Combed the first beach for treasure. The walk back over the rocks was challenging with the low energy and lack of co-ordination.

Hi Linda, Kris, Pat, Jackie, Lauren and Nick, thinking about you guys, miss you a lot.

Status Day 13: More of the same.

We assemble for the morning routine; Jono and Saul bring reef fish back, Maya cleans and cooks. Huenu, Maya, Jono and Saul have some rice and fish. The others with rice prepare it and eat. I have found two packets of tea and prepare myself a strong brew.

After breakfast everyone dissipates to their camp. Angi, Lisa and I head for west beach, intending to explore further. In the 40 degree heat and with no energy, we don’t get far. We return and I choke down five tiny oysters to regain some energy.

I check on my crab trap and find that the wave surge from the night’s storm has ripped it to pieces. I have no inclination to repair it.

We assemble for the evening fire, Angi shares some rice; I am grateful. Everyone retires early.

I think I’m getting close to sleep. I’m now on a sand dune just above the high-water mark using my hammock as a sleeping bag. The last challenge is a pillow; my clothes that are dry when I go to bed quickly become drenched from the humidity and my sweat.

I lay there looking at the stars, thinking about home and what everyone is doing.

I philosophise on what is most important to me. What is right and what is wrong?

Status Day 14: Looking for a purpose.

Everyone is sleeping. When not sleeping, they’re writing, reading or listening to an iPod.

I’m not sure the maths works for me now, there is no survival (as I define it) at this point, it is conserve energy and do as little as possible.

I have conquered my hunger and could probably routine for quite some time in this state. Many would argue that this is part of survival. For me, without the prospect of food to fish, trap or gather, I would seriously evaluate the rationale to stay.

In a real life situation I would leave the crash site at this stage. It is now an exercise in killing time, 16 more days to be exact. I could create a cool living space, or carve a totem pole, or … This in my mind is not why I’m here.

I try sleeping, I try writing, and I try doing nothing. Finally I head down the beach.

The evening fire is as our routine. The squid boats are closer and light up the beach. I stare at the stars and fall asleep just before dawn.

Status Day 16: Blur.

Adelle brings news from the outside – volcanoes and earthquakes. Nothing happens, everyone sleeps, I go for a walk to beach three. I carve Nick’s birthday present. The day ends.

Status Day 17: Decision.

I have become accustomed to the experience of hunger. I lock it away and it only attempts to escape a few times a day. The day is slept away by most. An hour in bed brings rain, we retreat to base camp and I get a fire going, sleep is a wet, hot, sandy experience. Daybreak brings relief.

Day 18 Status: End days.

I helped Saul with the reef fish. No-one else is up to it. I’m leaving tomorrow, it is decided. I can think of only one reason to stay – today I did it. Reason to leave vastly outweighed it. We played a game of cards. I finished Nick’s carving and wrapped it in leaves. Although only early afternoon I can tell you how the rest of the days goes. Don’t want to hear it? I don’t blame you.

Status: Nothing unfolds as you expect.

From the boat, and from a distance, our beach appeared unspoilt and beautiful. The reality was a little different. Upon landing, the piles upon piles of garbage appeared before us. The heat quickly became oppressive and walking in the sand without shoes proved impossible.

We all went our separate ways to explore. First stop on my journey: the river. It doesn’t flow into the ocean, but rather creates a small lake or lagoon, with a sand dune isolating it from the ocean. The water is slightly salty, drinkable but not pleasant.

After a brief and hot exploration of the beach we set up camp. Most set up hammocks at the west end of the beach, I chose to sleep on the beach at our camp.

We foraged a few coconuts that had washed up, most rotten but a few produced some meat. Dinner consisted of boiled hermit crabs.

It may be the dry season but a downpour hit us just before dark.

A quick swim in the ocean brought me comfort. Corals, reef fish, sea urchins all appeared before me. Many I know – surgeon fish (dora), for example – and many I didn’t. My excitement grew as I swam, thinking Nick and the rest should be here to see this. My excitement, however, was short-lived. I realised that the reef is dying, broken and shattered corals, few – very few – soft corals, and a crown of thorns and sea urchin infestation. The reef is trashed.

To add insult to injury, night brought dozens of ships, lights shining to attract and net squid by the tens of thousands.

Status: The day of the raft

We’ve settled into a routine of sorts. In the morning most of us look for food. When the sun comes over the horizon we hide in the shade and sleep or journal. It’s simply too hot to do anything else.

Caught another fish in the river but I fear there are few more to be had.

Angi, Lisa and I explored the east point. We swam most of it, ending in a little cove that of course required exploration.

Large boulders with nice pools containing freshwater crayfish. They’re pretty safe from the group as they are quite far away.

We continued around the point and found lots of flotsam. We spent the next two hours building a very cool raft – it was quite a journey swimming it back to the beach. We came to Jono and Saul fishing with the trap they found and repaired. Angi spotted a large lobster that retreated under a rock.

Nightfall brought the usual ships that light up the horizon. These ships are spotlighting squid by the tens of thousands. We had a group discussion around the fire about the lack of food on the island. This island is barren of fish, and it’s apparent that the ocean is on the verge of total collapse from overfishing. I did see a clownfish and a blue surgeon, just like Nemo. Nick would have loved this, thinking of all you guys!

Status Day 15: Lost in the doldrums.

Dawn appears over the ridge and I lay in the sand as the warmth permeates everything. I head to base camp to light a fire and brew tea; Joe is already working on a fire. He prepares his rice, I a cup of tea, and Jono, Maya, Huenu and Saul have their morning reef fish.

We chat and head to our respective camps. It’s probably 10 o’clock.

Nick sets a trap for rats and Huenu baits hooks for the lizard; I do not participate. The rats I care little for, the lizard I respect – this is his beach and has been for a while. I am not hungry enough to consider trying to kill him.

A walk down the beach and a swim; I show Jono and Kristen the path to East Beach.

A fire, light conversation and off to bed. So ends Day 15.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day 20
Day 21a
Day 21b
Day 22
Day 25a
Day 25b

Huenu, originally from Argentina, is the owner of Adventure Boot Camp, an outdoor fitness programme for women in South Africa, with a big passion for adventure.

She is the founder of Life 2 The Limit and is very worried about being very hungry on the island!

Status: Whether it’s because it’s April Fool’s Day or because I’ve been planning and thinking about this day for three years, it certainly doesn’t feel real to have made it to the island.

April Fool’s Day, and today does seem like a bit of a joke. I mean, it truly doesn’t feel real to actually be here after about three years of planning.

I sit on the sloping beach, resting my back against a rock, watching the low tide start to rise again. From the emerging coral in front of me I can hear the crackling sounds of fish, crabs, anemones, sea urchins and more that I am now so aware of. And yes, I’d have to admit that I can’t quite believe it.

Today was an amazing day! I had the hugest breakfast my stomach would allow before our boat trip to the island.

Actually landing here – the moment we were all waiting for – was incredible. We all took our time to explore and get comfy with our new surroundings and home for the next month, and then it all just fell into place.

Joe took care of the medical things, Saul taught us all how to put up our hammocks, some went to get water, others made a fire and I even got to do a vegetable garden! Yes … didn’t you know that radishes can be harvested in as little as 25 days? Well, they can! And if you help them along with some special fertilizer, it’s even faster. (Thanks Mom!) So we’ll see what happens. I’m sure that on Day 23 I’ll be stoked if I can eat one of those fresh veggies.

The sun is long gone and the light is very dim now. Soon I’ll be sleeping for the first time in my Hennesy Hammock by the sea (it’s hanging between two branches right on the beach) – and I still won’t believe it. I am really excited and today has been the perfect start to this incredible adventure. I can’t wait for the next 29 days!

Status: They say Day 3 is toughest, and it’s come and gone. All felt it as energies are way down, but we’re all well, alive and ready for more.

Wow, today was a tough day, and if reality hadn’t quite sunk in yesterday, you certainly couldn’t escape it today.

I woke up extremely weak – it was hard at first just lifting my arm or putting one foot in front of the other. The plan was for five of us to go upriver and explore, so Maya and I ate a little of the rice we brought to see if we felt any better (she was feeling as bad as me). But halfway through preparing it I felt really sick and threw up (first in the team!) which made me feel much better, actually.

Five minutes later I stepped on a burning coal that had been left outside the fire the night before, and got blisters on my big toe. So that expedition up the river was not looking so tempting now …

Maya threw up a little after me and she felt better too. We then both had some rice and our spirits started to lift, although we missed the expedition and had a recovery nap to feel better instead – which luckily worked.

Between about 10 and three (wild guess, as we have no watches) it gets so insanely hot it’s impossible to do anything. Best is to chill out in the shade, sleep or write diaries!

As soon as it gets a bit cooler in the afternoon we have about four hours of light, when most of the hunting for food should be done. We’re slowly getting into the routine and everyone is starting to settle into certain roles.

In the afternoon I filtered some water and made fish traps with water bottles (of which there is an insane amount – the rubbish washed up here is sad). You basically cut the head off the bottle and then put it in the bottle facing inwards. Fish swim in to get the bait but struggle to get out. Problem is, we don’t have bait, and what I’ve tried so far hasn’t worked.

I have three of them hanging from a log across the river, so they are positioned very well – let’s see how we go. I also made another fish trap today, very similar to a pool rake, which looks pretty cool.

In the afternoon Maya, Angi, Kristen and I tried it out in the river and we caught a few fish, but too small to do much with. It rained quite heavily so the four of us hid in a cave near the river. It felt, sounded and looked incredible. The rock had holes, so inside we had a natural shower of the freshest water! We stayed quite a while, bathing and cleaning our bodies and drinking from the streams running down the rocks. Great!

We then ran to the river (it was cold outside) and simmered in the warm water, which was also amazing. The river is still (more like a lake) and there was a thin layer of mist over the water, coupled with the water droplets hitting the water and the green mountain jungle in the background. This was a moment I will remember for a long time, and what Life 2 the limit is all about.

After the rain we got a wonderful present: Joe made it his mission to ensure we have fresh water, which so far has meant pumping river water into containers (time consuming, but kills the germs). It tastes gross, but we need to keep hydrated.

So Joe managed to collect about 20 litres of fresh rainwater during the storm – he set up two bowls with angled plastic to funnel the water into the bowls. It was such a treat.

Another surprise was Matt spotting a banana tree from the sea! Just a few metres up the hill from our campsite, so Matt, Angi and I climbed up and brought back a bunch. Sadly, they’re really small and tasted quite horrible, but that was our meal tonight – peeled, sliced and boiled. Quite frankly, one of the grossest things I’ve tasted (some even refused to eat them). But it was food in the tummy so I tried to gulp them as pills.

Thankfully Nick caught a small fish just before dinner so the last bite (it was just one small bite each) was the fish, which left a better taste in my mouth.

From a group perspective, it seems everyone is working hard and pulling their weight, but I’m not sure if anyone is building bonds yet. The interesting conversations around the fire I was hoping for haven’t happened and I’m not sure they will. I’m sad, as I do see this as an incredible opportunity to share more of our feelings, ideas and thoughts.

Thankfully Maya and I spend quite a bit of time together and we’ve talked beyond the daily chores, conversations we’ve both thoroughly enjoyed. I hope team spirit lightens up and that everyone takes things a bit more lightheartedly, as having fun, laughing and chatting is an important part of this journey I think.

Anyway, Day 3 is done. They say it’s the toughest, and it certainly started out very rough but ended well and I got through it, Yeay! 27 days to go!

Status: Lesson 1: Appreciate the things you have. A mere four days and I can’t be more thankful for my life back home.

Maya and I moved our hammocks onto the sand closer to the campsite instead of hanging them in the trees. I love our new spot – we have trees over us from which we can hang our few belongings. But last night was my worst so far. Because of the rain, all my things were wet/humid, which meant I was cold the whole night and couldn’t sleep.

The ground was also moist so my soft, sandy bed was hard, and I wasn’t feeling great this morning. But a tiny bit of rice did the trick and I felt much better after ‘breakfast’. Maya and I counted how much rice we have – enough for about 30gs between us each morning, so we’re going for it as it really makes a difference, even if it’s almost nothing.

Today I had a thinking session during the hot part of the day, and I figured out that I’m so grateful for my life. I really love what I do, who I work with, where I live, and my daily routine back in Cape Town. There are still 26 days to go and I’m looking forward to the lessons I’ll learn, but I won’t deny I’d love to be home. How cool is it to think that?

I’ve also learned a lot about being hungry. It’s insane. It fills your mind almost every second, and you simply can’t stop thinking about pizza and sandwiches and ice-cream and cakes and … We try not to talk about it as a group as it’s pure torture.

I tiny green leaf peeked out of my radish bed today! I was so happy! The evening showers are doing most of the watering, and I keep an eye on them daily to make sure they’re safe and sound. I have three beds – one in a piece of polystyrene box, and two in some plastic tubing cut lengthwise.

The amount of rubbish on this beach is insane.

After my thinking session I did a bit of meditating with a rock my mom gave me for this trip – moonstone. I carry it most places. It keeps me safe and reminds me of my family every day.

Butterflies, which are everywhere, remind me of my brother Pablo, whom I think about all the time. He was supposed to have come with me, but I know his spirit is here, and that he too protects me and shares these special moments.

By the time it was cool enough to move, Maya, Joe, Kristen and I went into the forest to cut out palm hearts. It’s very sad to cut the whole plant just for a tiny piece of palm heart though, as the only edible part is about the size of a pen. They’re also difficult to get, as the leaves have sharp spines, and hacking to get to the heart is exhausting – especially with our depleted energy levels. We got about 12, which when split between 10 is not much food, and we’re not sure if it’s worth the effort.

Later I headed to the river to catch fish with my new ‘pool rake’. It took one and a half hours to get about 50 of them, which I put in my bottle traps as bait. So far though, nothing.

The only food tonight was one small fish for all 10 of us that Nick caught with his net, and the palm heart. Then the rain came – we were all extremely exhausted but had to wait about an hour under a tree.

Saul entertained us with some cool poetry – his own and others he’d memorised.

Eventually I fell asleep on the uncomfortable log. Later, I’m not sure how, I made it to the hammock and passed out.

Status Day 8: The most incredible, long, enduring, tough and memorable hike of my life happened today.

This was the most interesting, exhausting, frustrating day yet. Saul and I (and later five more) decided to cross the island to where supposedly a park ranger lives.

We set off early with a teeny bit of rice in our bellies and followed the river, which would lead us to the other side. It was truly stunning and a true adventure as we dodged branches, stepped over rocks and boulders, moved thorny plants aside etc. This is truly untouched, dense forest.

My whole body felt completely weak but I kept a steady pace in the front. After about four hours we were still climbing and Kristen was really struggling and not enjoying it so she, Angi and Lisa decided to go back.

But the summit seemed to never arrive and we had to make a call. Obviously we’d taken the wrong path at some point, but also this island is not so big that the summit could be that far. We would give it another hour and trust if we were still climbing then we’d turn around.

We were all extremely weak, co-ordination and balance were hard to judge, and getting up after a short rest seemed like the hardest thing in the world. But we also didn’t want to get stuck overnight, so we continued up to the top. The canopy was always extremely thick and we could never see if the mountains or sea were to our right or left, we just followed the river bed.

Then, almost 20 minutes into our descent, Saul checked the compass – we were heading north instead of south. It wasn’t possible. We continued, and we were heading straight back to our beach!

We were so discouraged. We’d been hiking for six or seven hours, on empty stomachs and completely run-down systems, and we’d done it for nothing! There was no choice but to keep hiking. Jono slipped on a rock and hurt his shin, Matt got a major rash on his thighs from the pants, and Saul and I got more splinters on our fingers than we have fingers.

But onwards like soldiers we kept going until, like the Shawshank Redemption liberation, we hit the sea! We had arrived, but where?

It was just a small rocky cove. We realised our mistake and turned left on the rocky shore towards our beach. Our last effort was swimming about a kilometre back, which we did slowly and eventually we were ‘home’!

A teeny bit of rice and water later, I hit the hammock early – exhausted, disappointed but also happy with amazing memories of an experience I will never, ever forget!

Status Day 12: Drenched in a thunderstorm with a potato bag over my head in the middle of the night, the day was off to an interesting start.

The day started very early – the first drops must have come around 4.30am and the thunderstorm was full-blown a few minutes later. The camera equipment was safe but my brother Pablo’s photo, which always rests next to my hammock, was exposed, which quickly forced me out of the hammock to put it in my dry bag. Just in time before the sky fell on us.

In the dark, drenched, with my headlamp on and a potato bag over my head, I sat on the branch for half an hour, as did Maya a few metres away. We must have made quite a pretty picture.

Then out of the blue Matt comes to say the fire’s going if we want to warm up. But it was pouring down! This Canadian genius managed to get the fire going, and made a huge stack of logs and kept it going. So there we were, Maya, Jono, Matt, Kristen and I standing in the pouring rain in silence until the sun came up. And what a sunrise greeted us. It was a magical picture.

This morning I helped Saul and Jono fish and we got nine in about 45 minutes – a record. The only thing that seems to work is net fishing and the guys have it down to an art. First they find the fish, ideally not deeper than neck deep. Jono spears a sea urchin and the fish come to feed. Saul holds the net with one end on the bottom and waits for the big fish to come around, then drops the net. The fish swims fast against the net, Saul pulls it up and Jono, with a glove, holds the fish’s gills tight to kill it (very sad). Saul carefully opens the net and Jono puts the fish in my net, so I carry all the dead fish back to the bucket on the rocks.

The rest of the day was really positive. I feel my body has now adjusted to the new island schedule and I’m ok with eating just two tiny meals a day. I don’t crave food as much and I spend most of the day making the most of the time available. – thinking, planning, and enjoying the experience as much as possible!

Status Day 13: A happy, uneventful yet effective day.

Today was probably the slowest day I’ve had. I had the best sleep, without waking, feeling cold, humid or uncomfortable.

But the bad news is that in the morning I got my period (despite taking the pill right through). This made me very lethargic. I’m happy to say the menstrual cup (they have many names) is wonderful! I’ve never used it before but it’s amazing for camping or these situations. It’s 100% environmentally friendly.

Excuse my going public with something so personal, but I know many friends have asked about this – and after all, half the population goes through it!

Maya, Saul and I have been hanging out more, having really interesting conversations and I really value the time we spend together and the ideas that sprout.

In 20 days I won’t have five minutes to lie down and do nothing, so it’s important to cherish these moments and live them to the fullest, realising the privilege it is not to have the cell phone ringing, the TV on, the emails etc. This will probably never happen again in my life – I give thanks for it.

With so much time I’ve been able to plan a lot of things – including my house-warming party!

So for all my friends out there reading this, please book Saturday 12 June at 6pm!

PS Stu, good luck with Ironman on the 17^th! Will be thinking of you!

Status Day 16: What a simple diary can do.

We all have public and personal diaries. I ran out of my personal one, and today Adelle brought me a new one. For three days I waited for this diary, with the excitement of a six year old before Christmas, almost. It amazed me at how something so simple as a diary – which at home I would have bought straight away – would give me so much to look forward to.

And it’s because at the end of the day, it’s all relative.

Everything becomes so valuable when you have nothing to begin with. This is a great lesson for our daily lives back home. Do we pay too little attention to the things we have? Are we grateful for them? Probably not, but I know this simple diary experience will surface again the next time I dig into my wallet to get the next thing I want – if for nothing more than to say thank you, that I’m able to do this so casually. I believe those feelings of gratitude, thrown out in the universe, will only bring more good things my way down the road.

And so it was that the rest of Day 16, after Adelle’s visit, was spent in the shade, pen practically glued to the paper, page after page, even into my hammock with my headlamp on.

Another day closer to home, and another valuable lesson in store.

Status Day 17: The boat that leads to chocolate and pancakes is coming… and it seems to be becoming more tempting…

There’s talk of people leaving on the boat on April 19^th. But no-one wants to be the first to say it. Jono’s back is hurt, so that’s his main reason, and Angi’s rice seems to have run out, which has been what’s been feeding her and Lisa mostly. Both girls, as well as Kristen and Matt, are not eating fish because they feel sorry for them. Or in Kristen and Matt’s case, they just can’t stand the taste of it. Of course, this means that everyone has no energy to do anything at all.

Maya and I, on the other hand, have rationed our rice to Day 30 and, while the fish is not a chocolate pancake, we eat it because we know our bodies need it. This is what survival is all about anyway, you make do with what you have and you overcome whatever obstacle there is.

I know people will leave on the 19^th and I respect whatever each individual decides to do. However, I see any excuse as avoidable at this stage as there are solutions to the food problem, plus lethargy is part of the game. So if you can’t deal with it, it means you simply weren’t tough enough to make it.

And on the food note, there are rats, lizards and crabs and no-one has attempted to catch any in the past two weeks. I’m not complaining, I’m doing fine and I will make it, but if food is an issue for some, I would make an effort to go and get it. Or much simpler yet, get over the remorse of eating fish or get over your weak stomach and swallow the fish. It certainly makes your stomach better. As for me, I have my routine, the day is long and the hours drag on but I know I can do it. I know I’ll be all the stronger for it down the road.

Day 18 Status: Goodbye Matt, Jono, Kristen, Lisa and Angi –you will be missed.

So it was Lisa who was the first to admit it. She will leave the island tomorrow. She feels she learned a lot and accomplished her goals. Angi followed and is leaving mainly because she does not want to damage her body that much further. Jono decided also to go and join the group. While his back is a bit better, he feels he can’t contribute to the group lying on his back all day and is worried he will make his back worse. Matt has family issues he’d like to go back to Canada to attend to, and Kristen also feels her body is taking quite a bit of strain.

I spoke to each individually and I respect and accept all their decisions. It all boils down to what I’ve written over and over – this is really hard. Lack of food, lack of energy, lack of motivation, your mind has to be pretty strong to combat the opposition. I think it also shows strength of character to decide to leave before the full 30 days.

Of course everyone came here with that goal in mind, and I know it wasn’t easy for the five leaving to make that call. Matt and Jono will go home early and the girls will be waiting for us so I look forward to seeing them again on 1 May. I am proud of the team and how we managed to get along the past 18 days.

Joe, Nick, Saul, Maya and I start a new chapter tomorrow in a way as the dynamics will definitely change, and for that I am excited. Plus, tomorrow is Nick’s birthday and Adelle is bringing us a very nice surprise that I can’t wait for.

Day 19 Status: Is there anything better in the world than chocolate cake after 19 days of starvation? No…I didn’t think so.

Today was by far the best day of L2TL so far! Thank you Mr and Mrs Bennett for bringing Nick into the world today, as his 26^th anniversary brought a lot of joy to the L2TL group! 19 days in and a diet of limited fish and rice only meant that Nick’s birthday cake that Adelle brought along (at my request) was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. The double-decker chocolate with chocolate cream icing on top (and interestingly a drawing of a cow on top too) woke up my taste buds and my spirit to sky-high level. Everyone was on a chocolate high! Plus, I also had Adelle bring us tuna and cheese pancakes, and little treat of chips or cookies for everyone.

The day did have its sad moment, as five of our team members left too. Thank you to those who were generous enough to leave their portions of food to those who stayed, particularly to Matt! The leftovers were divided amongst the five of us, and we decided to keep most of it until the 24^th.

The smaller team is certainly different and all seems calmer and quieter since the group split. But we had a great start, with duties being divided among the five and a more set routine drafted, with cooking time set so we make the most out of each fire relight. Whether it was the food or the smaller team, I don’t know, but everyone was cheery today as we sat around the evening fire. Nick got his birthday card, which we all wrote on, and a few prezzies from the team (highlight being a super-cool checker board that Joe made out of bamboo and wood) and I think it’ll be a birthday he’ll never forget.

As for me, I feel like a huge, massive craving has been sedated and I do not crave anything else at this point in time, which is the first moment of ‘peace’ for my mind in 19 days. It is such a relief! It also has seemed to ignite my creative spirits, as I couldn’t sleep for the first one and a half hours, so I got my headlamp and poured nine million ideas on paper for the next hour. Wow… There is just so much to do when I get home! But don’t worry… part of what I’m doing is organising how to organise my time, so even though there is a lot to do, I am confident of keeping a balanced life in mind!

Yeah for the 19^th of April. And Happy Birthday Nick!

Day 21: An idea sparks, I grab the pencil and I flick off an ant…

Today seemed to drag on for me and the reminder that I still have nine days left was ever-present. It doesn’t help that in 20 sleeps I’ve had maybe two decent nights and the lack of sleep adds to my already exhausted body.

All I can do all day is lie on my sarong, write and think, but I can’t sleep because the ants and bugs are endless, no matter where you lie down, and sleeping inside the hammock is way too hot. So I twitch every five seconds, flicking off yet another ant with my eyes closed, hoping that it will make me feel a little less tired.

Evening (before the mozzies come out) is definitely the best time – the temperature drops and the insects keep a little quieter and you feel a tad more energy than during the day. (continued...)

(continued..)

Although hard to believe, I still think we still have less and less energy each day. Collecting wood this morning felt like the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I only did two trips up and down the beach. To top it all off, Maya and I had a small tiff today. Not ideal for the two girls left in the group, who 100% rely on each other to make it. But I am happy to say that we both said sorry and made up, and agreed that it was the stress of the situation talking rather than our real beliefs. I am so happy that neither of us is the type to hold a grudge and that makes me like her even more. I think our mutual support thus far has been truly invaluable.

On a more positive note, I keep having idea after idea for my businesses, home, lifestyle, etc. They seem to come at completely random moments, so I grab the knife-sharpened pencil (all pens are now finished L) and write them down. I know I said many times that I was glad to leave my cell phone and computer behind, but now I can’t wait for May 1^st to switch on that on button and start putting this all into action! But… still another nine days to go. Who knows what else I’ll think about between now and then?

Day 25: Adios amigos

And so it came to be that last night, after a nice long chat with Maya, we made a spur of the moment, unexpected decision – we would be leaving the island today! As soon as we decided, we hugged and smiled and had we had the energy, we would have jumped for joy too. The thought of just one more night as opposed to six was such a happy thought, it’s almost indescribable. In less than 24 hours, we’d be eating what we wanted, sleeping in comfortable beds, showering, washing our hair, shaving, calling our families and eating some more. I cannot describe the feeling of joy that this even gives me to write.

But to a more important point: why did we really decide to leave and why didn’t we just stick it out another four days after 25 days of survival already? Well… to be honest, the fact that we struggled to answer this question with Maya was part of the decision to go. Of course, there’s the obvious answer of ‘because I said I would and that’s what the challenge was for’. But what does that mean? Is it a promise I made to myself to do it and I would be letting myself down? Or is it a promise I made to my family and friends or even the public and I would be letting them down? None of those resonated with me. Personally, I felt strong by saying ‘I’ve had enough’ and being honest about it and admitting it was extremely hard. And publicly, I know none of my family and friends would think less of me for making it 25 days instead of 30. And if someone out there did anyway, that would only damage my ego, which thankfully is not standing in the way to be damaged in this case. So that was also not a problem in my mind.

(...Continued)

Another thing I’d noticed is that the last couple of days had become even harder than the rest and I was not able to write anything useful on my diary at all. Business ideas were done and dusted it seemed and 99% of my time was spent thinking about that ride back and everything thereafter. Quite simply… did I want to continue doing that for the next six days or did I just want to admit I’d had enough and call it quits?

To be honest, when I popped the question, it wasn’t that hard to decide. It had never been a question before because neither Maya nor I ever thought about less than 20 days. But alas, sometimes things happen out of the blue and I guess this was one of them.

So here we are, the boat is about to arrive and I couldn’t be happier. Not just for what’s ahead, but most of all, for what’s behind. The last month has been a monument of lessons that I will never forget for as long as I live. I know my view of life has shifted, I am more appreciative, more thankful, more sure of what I want to do. I’ve had enormous amounts of time to think, plan, organize and prepare and I know that some of the ideas that spurred in me will be incredibly valuable in the future too. I’ve realised the power of friendship and what teamwork is all about. And while I certainly learned that survival is not as easy as it seems, I know I am more prepared now for whatever life may throw at me in the future. I feel extremely grateful for this experience!

Now let’s get back to civilization and my cheese and ham pancake!

Status: Day 6: If you were a tick, would you decide to make your home sweet home on the inside of Huenu’s eyelid? Well, one nasty little tick did!

Possibly one of my worst nights, last night. Everything wet, I was cold and uncomfortable. Woke up several times but the moon wasn’t moving – seemed to be treading along with all the time in the world.

As soon as it was light I made a new decision to stay happier for the day: I was not to think about food any more! I decided picturing muffins, pizza and chocolates was not going to help, and if I caught myself I’d shift my thoughts to my new apartment and how I’d like to decorate it. It worked, felt much better foodwise, and my daily portion of rice made me really happy.

Brunch was one of the best yet, as the boys had their most successful fishing day, bringing back 14 fish. We had them in a broth and all felt great after this special treat.

But before, in the cool of the morning, I decided to do some beach cleaning – so sad to see such a beautiful beach so polluted. It was exhausting! Simply bending down and up can really use your energy. But by the end I had a full black bag and a clean section of beach to admire.

In the morning I felt as though a mosquito had bitten me on my eyelid – it felt swollen and tender. I showed it to Joe and he found a tick, which had decided to make my eye its new home! Yuck!

Operation Tick Removal followed – freaky, gross and really painful as he pulled the bloody tick away from the inside of my eyelid, some skin and all, ouch! Some local antibiotics later I was back to normal, but my eye will be sore for a few more days I’m sure.

Regular afternoon nap under the huge tree at the end of the beach – they’re essential as almost no-one sleeps well at night.

Interesting to note that for the last six days straight (save for the hike upriver) we’ve had the endless rolling waves as background music. Nice, but there comes a point when you want silence too.

As we’re thinking of other food resources, when it got cooler I decided to focus on snares. I made a cool one out of The SAS Survival Guide we brought (mini version) and set it up on a game path between the sea and the river. It was tricky but quite fun to make, and I’ll have to check it regularly or risk prey escaping. Problem is that while we’ve heard loads of noises from the forest, we haven’t seen any animals at all except some lizards.

We chatted about this tonight and decided to explore more avenues, such as clams, checking other beaches, checking the forest for edible plants and snaring. Hopefully something will give us a decent amount of food as our energy dwindles by the day.

It was nice to see the group working together during this chat. Six days has made us all very chilled and time has slowed down. So when someone spoke, everyone listened, and while our views were quite different sometimes, everyone respected the others’ point of view. There haven’t been any fights to date, and under the circumstances, that’s quite impressive.

Status Day 9: Survival is not easy!

Today was a frustrating day.

Once again Saul, Angi and I tried to get to the other side of the island to the ranger’s cabin. We got lost – badly – and had to cut through the jungle, in and out of rivers etc. If I had no energy yesterday, today I even less – minus the motivation.

One hour there and one hour back, and I was finished, finished, finished. I have honestly never been that tired in my entire life. I completely passed out on the sand after that.

Status Day 10: I’ve realised the benefit – precious time.

Today we moved beaches to about a kilometre west of where we were.

The main advantage is that a beautiful forest river leads all the way into the beach with clean, cold and fresh water. Just 50 metres into it, a beautiful waterfall ensures very clear drinking water that doesn’t need to be filtered (although we still add purification drops). I have a beautiful spot at the mouth of the river which already feels very cosy and homely – I’m definitely happier than on our previous beach.

Despite the positive move however, today everyone’s mood seemed pretty bleak to me. The days are taking their toll and everyone is finding the challenge a bit tougher than they thought.

But what is becoming more challenging now other than the obvious lack of energy? Boredom.

There is talk of leaving earlier by most of the group and enjoying the last few days on the island nearby. To me, that’s accepting defeat.

Because not only is this adventure about survival, it’s also about dealing with whatever is thrown at us – be it fatigue, challenges in getting food or boredom. Boredom is also something we must be strong enough to overcome, and any one that leaves early and says they could have stayed but they just got bored and tired, is simply not able to deal with this challenge.

We didn’t know what to expect and here we are. Throw me fatigue, lack of food, insects, discomfort or boredom – I am going to make it the 30 days.

Ironically, today was possibly my best day ever. Even with a sombre mood around me, I finally realised the huge benefit of this trip – time to think, plan, reflect and just be. It was wonderful.

Day 10 is milestone. And for me, the realisation of the huge benefit of this challenge – precious time!

Status Day 11: Stop DOING and start BEING.

I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind was racing with wonderful thoughts of the life that awaits me from May onwards. I have numerous new goals – personal and business. I wrote it all down and woke up so positive I couldn’t wait to get the day started.

I bounced out of bed, did my laundry, made a fire, cooked some rice, cleaned up the camping area and soaked it all in.

Then Maya and I had a lovely conversation through the hot part of the day that took us all over the world – she is such a special, amazing girl.

In terms of the group, interesting things are starting to happen.

Everyone is friendly and respects each other, but the little groups and bonds are strengthening. Angi and Lisa are very keen to seek more adventure. It’s too bad to me that they don’t realise the positive effects of chilling out for once in your life and NOT doing anything. In the western world, if you do not do-do-do you feel lost. But we need to take time out, to specifically NOT do things all the time in order to find ourselves.

We should learn to be comfortable in our own space and allow our thoughts to wander, play and grow, as well as quieten these down in order to reflect and ponder on what our lives are all about. What a wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and what a pity if some can’t see it and waste it away.

Thankfully for me this is becoming clearer as days go by. While there still isn’t much physical activity in the hot part of the day, my mind has been hard at work with new business projects and goal setting.

Watch out all my staff when I’m back, ha ha! There’s a big potjiekos brewing!

Lesson #2: Use time wisely and don’t waste it – especially when you have it in abundance. Amazing new realisations may emerge when you stop DOING and start BEING.

Status Day 14: It’s up and down. Every day is a mental challenge for me.

Another embarrassing moment, but worth mentioning as it shows how little food we’ve been having. Today was my first poo! My body needs all the food I consume and there’s simply very little it does not use. I’m sure my metabolism is also the slowest it has ever been in my life, and I can’t walk without feeling tired.

Still, I feel I’ve adjusted and that I can make the 30 days. While not as strongly as before, thoughts of muffins, sushi and pizza are still regular interruptions of the mind, and I do know those first bites of real food are going to taste better than anything I’ve ever tasted before.

Later: I’m finding Life 2 the Limit a huge mental challenge sometimes and I cannot stop thinking of home and food. We all talk about it too and I struggle, knowing we are not even half way yet.

I can’t explain what it feels like. Maybe it’s that we’re used to always getting what we want, and I know this is a great experience, but still … another 16 days? Shew! Someone give me the mental power please!

Today was as slow as yesterday. The group’s routine has been summarised into a fire in the morning with fish that Saul and Jono catch (although not everyone eats it), then nothing for about six hours (way too hot and we’re way too weak) and then a fire and dinner in the same fashion. Everyday feels a little slower.

Status Day 15: We’ve reached a milestone – the halfway mark! The countdown to 1 May has begun!

The halfway mark – woo hoo! A lot has happened in the last 15 days and we all deserve to be very proud of ourselves. Even Les Stroud only survives for a week, and we’ve accomplished twice that.

It hasn’t been easy and the next 15 days will probably be harder. But in my mind we’re heading down the hill and the countdown to 1 May has begun.

The lack of energy is well noted – but the challenge now is all mental to me.

And it’s quite a personal one as I struggle with my thoughts for hours and hours each day, hoping the positive, encouraging ones win over the tired, negative ones. Who would have thought that lying on a beautiful beach on a deserted island could be so hard?

Thankfully there are a number of thoughts that get me through:

* The great sense of accomplishment I’ll feel at the end of 30 days.

* All the lessons I’m learning I will keep for life. Like Adelle has said, short-term suffering, long-term pleasure.

* All the truly wonderful things I have to look forward to back home, especially my mom, my work colleagues, and my friends.

* All the food I’ll savour bite by bite with delight.

* Knowing this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and that in the grand scheme of things, 15 days is nothing.

* The positive reinforcement from my wonderful friend Maya, who analyses things with such logic and sees the best in every situation.

So that leaves me lying on the beach with a choice of how to feel. And I choose to feel great! Because I know I’m lucky to be here and that the downhill to 1 May might be tough, but it will make me stronger, wiser and happier in the end, so bring it on!

Day 20: Dreaming under the rain…

Today was the freshest say so far, with permanent cloud cover and a long rain period in the morning. When I fell asleep under our ‘waterproof’ palm roof next to the fire I dreamt about my future ski chalet in France, all made out of stone and wood on the slopes of Les Gets, and full of kids and a warm family vibe, while the snow fell peacefully outside. What an amazing picture! And how inspiring and motivating to think that my dream picture of the future really isn’t that hard to achieve! In fact, check with me in five years time and we’ll go skiing off the chalet all over Portes du Soleil, oui? (I’m not sure about the kids yet J but all in good time!)

This experience has made me value what I have so much, that I hardly have words to describe it. But what I would like to say to those reading this is the following: mom and dad: I love you so much! And thank you for being the best parents in the world! Javier: I love you and can’t think of a better brother out there! Pablo: I speak to you daily, and you know it all already, but again…I promise that I will keep thinking of you every day until I see you again. To the rest of my family and friends: you have all shaped my life into something beautiful and I wouldn’t change a single thing of my past.

Always remember who you are, where you’ve come from, and what you’ve been through. Stay true to it, and live each day like it was your last. Don’t wait for the things you want to happen – go out there and get them! Because nothing is as hard as it seems, and every seed of effort will sprout a seed of reward. Life is amazing – go and get it.

Day 22: Sometimes, when it rains, it pours.

A few days ago I discovered a pod growing from a tree, similar to a fat green bean, but fatter and shorter, like a half moon. This morning, I thought about trying it out.

Boiled four beans to death and discovered that the inside of each had one or two peas, so I did the edibility test with one – you try it on your skin and wait, then your lips, then tongue, and finally you chew it and swallow it, and wait.

I was stoked because I didn’t get sick, and aside from a bitter aftertaste, it didn’t taste bad. So in the evening, Maya and I cooked enough for the whole group, and everyone had two or three, but I had about 10, feeling confident they were fine.

Well… Writing this now puts my stomach in a knot, as soon after dinner I started to feel sick, really sick, until eventually I threw up. And threw up, and threw up.

It was one of the worst nights of my life. Uncomfortable inside my hammock on the sand, feeling incredibly nauseous and not knowing what the hell I’d eaten, it was all a bit scary. To top it off, by about the ninth time I was going to throw up, the sky breaks loose on us and it starts pouring with rain. Somehow I managed to get to our shelter, which is great for sprinkles, but this storm was something else.

So, drenched and cold, Maya and I huddled for hours, trying to keep each other warm, in between me getting sick some more. The night seemed to last forever, and by the time the sun came out, I thought I must be dreaming. I was so tired and cold that its rays on my face were actually the only thing that eventually got me to sleep.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day 20
Day 21
Day 22
Day 25
Day 26
Day 27
Day 30

Status: Contrary to my usual feeling, I’m loving the rain.

Woke up feeling quite weak and took a long time to get going. Not feeling too hungry but I can definitely notice that energy is low. Still not sleeping very well – will try an alternative hammock position tonight. Several people have moved to the beach, believing it’s more comfortable. I may try it in the coming days.

There’s some concern in the group about food supply, as it’s not been as easy as expected to find fish and edible plants. So Lisa and I investigated the palms behind our camp and found that both the growing tips and the palm hearts are edible, which should provide a good supplement. The hearts taste a bit like sugar cane.

There was quite a lot of activity – a group went up river and found good water and brought back bananas, and another group investigated the adjacent beach, but there was little to find. I rested in the shade in the afternoon and had a great chat with Maya and Lisa about various topics – very interesting.

Then I began construction of a crab trap (see picture) which I will complete tomorrow.

In the late afternoon there was a heavy downpour, very invigorating, and we collected about 20 litres of fresh rainwater, which I think was greatly appreciated by all. Certainly I think we will come to appreciate small things much more as a result of this experience, and stop taking them so easily for granted, as we do in normal life.

Nick caught a beautiful, brightly coloured fish with his throw net, and this with the bananas will make a decent evening meal. Three days done!

Status: Pushing on, though it’s sinking in just what an immense challenge this is going to be!

Greetings to friends and family, from our little corner of (slightly altered) paradise. We are all still relatively well and there have been no serious medical incidents so far.

Adelle (our support person and documenter) came today to collect the first round of journal entries and pictures. We were not allowed to talk to her, but just seeing her boat come in for the collection was encouraging and a reminder that time is passing. I am sleeping somewhat better, though I continue to have very strange dreams, but I can never quite remember the details in the morning.

There remain some serious concerns in the group about our ability to consistently find food. We went again to collect palm hearts, this time enough for the entire group, but it’s quite a task and probably not sustainable, so we need to explore additional food sources.

There was a heavy rainfall in the evening which definitely dampened our spirits. We had not expected so much rain at this time of year, and many of our hammocks got wet – not a pleasure to sleep in at all!

Status: Day 6: No rain = dry hammock = awesome!

Here we are, still on the island, ha ha!

Reasonably good day: rice (tick), fish (tick), completed the shack structure for camp (tick) – see the video.

A frustration here is that I have so many ideas of things to do (particularly things to construct) but I simply lack the energy. I continue to have dark and quite disturbing dreams, the sort of thing about which Jung or Freud would have had a field day – perhaps it’s the fish?

We had an interesting discussion around the camp fire regarding the potential environmental impact we’re having by using up the resources of this area.

It’s a difficult question because while we need to eat, we also do not wish to do long-term damage. It remains an ongoing consideration for all of us.

Status Day 8: In touch with nature = great!

It’s a rice day! Ha ha, it’s funny how it all revolves around food. We have had numerous discussions about food in the last few days. I find them excellent and not at all disturbing, sort of a retreat into a fantasy world of flavour.

We intend to move beaches in a day or two, which I think will be a big morale boost, and the water is apparently a lot more palatable, which is also good news.

The stars were quite beautiful tonight and I sat for some time watching two separate lightening storms crusading across the horizon. As I was lying in my hammock listening to the regular rhythm of the waves, I was reminded of one of my main motivations for coming here – to be in touch with nature = great!

Status Day 9: Day 10 and one third of the way through. Good work everyone!

Greetings, earthlings, from this increasingly strange place!

In normal life my mind and thoughts are like a tumultuous whirlwind, rushing around from one thing to the next. While I greatly enjoy most of the thought experiences I have and greatly appreciate the opportunity to have them, I do find the process tiring at times.

Here, perhaps because of the necessity of focusing only on the essentials, I find an inner calm instead. This is not to say I don’t have concerns or that the days are not difficult, but simply that here I find peace in simply watching the clouds floating lazily on the horizon.

Status Day 10: I’m making hot chocolate!

We have successfully moved beaches and our new location seems a good choice.

Everyone took some time to settle into our new home. I must still string up my hammock, but it’s a task I’m satisfied to leave for later.

One particular benefit of this beach is a lovely cool, clear river of sweet water, infinitely superior to our previous source.

So after a dip in the refreshing stream, I waded to the nearby waterfall and sat for some time just contemplating: the river of time that runs through our lives, karma and the question of reincarnation, how meaninglessly small it can seem that we are, and yet how awesome (in the sense of large rather than necessarily good) it is to be human – thanks to the incredible opportunity of self-consciousness. I am glad for it.

As a special treat tonight I’m making hot chocolate for the team. They don’t know yet, but I think we will all enjoy it!

Status Day 12: Somewhere between Day 11 and 12

'Twas a stormy night … so here are some thoughts while being alone and wet in the dark. Looking at the sometimes tragic nature of modern world affairs, and being a firm advocate of evolutionary theory for explaining current human behaviour, I often wonder what drove humans to become so megalomaniacal?

What caused us to reach such an advanced level of greed and lust for power and dominance? At least in part I think it had something to do with cold, dark nights in the rain. There are perhaps few things more pitiful than being soaked to the bone under the blackness of a starless sky.

Repeatedly forced to endure this and the many other inequities and discomforts of an ‘animal’ existence, it seems understandable that our (then still relatively small) brains would have begun and continued to strive for something better. Something more secure. Something resembling a good roof, a warm blanket and a mug of hot chocolate. Only this has long ago been achieved along with much else of genuine value.

Sadly though, the drive which successfully wrought this level of comfort did not stop there, and the ingenuity which was required has been twisted, perverted and diverted to other things far more dark than any stormy night our ancestors had to endure: nuclear weapons, the industries that result in environmental decimation and the perpetual need to find (and, if necessary, create) an ‘enemy’ that can subsequently be destroyed as some pathetic proof of our ongoing superiority.

It is my firm belief that humans are quite amazing and equally as terrible as that. My hope is that we will realise that the physical battle against the world of dark, cold, wet nights has been won and unless we redirect our considerable abilities to the psychological battle within ourselves, we will lose all that we hold dear. And that would be truly sad. The rain has stopped and soon the sun will rise.

Status Day 13: Enjoying the problem-solving.

I have greatly enjoyed the problem-solving aspect of being here – working with limited equipment in a situation that is not ideal and trying to overcome challenges in the most efficient and sensible way in terms of what is available.

As a result of this process (and particularly as a result of working on my bench and dealing with the constraints of limited materials) it occurs to me that the solution is always inherent within the problem and needs to be revealed from within it, rather than being imposed on it from without.

Status Day 16: Hennessey hammock life

Here on our island we all sleep in hammocks as we decided they were the most compact and useful shelter we could fit into our dry bags. Progressively it’s emerged that team members use their hammocks in different ways: several string them up as per instructions. Then there is the ‘end tied up to poles but body resting on the sand’ technique, and finally some of the team are using them like sleeping bags and lying on the ground.

Each to his own it seems.

I string mine up and it’s taken quite some time to get used to sleeping in it, as the sag in the middle means one’s never lying flat. But after more than two weeks I’m certainly sleeping better than I did at the start, which is a relief as we’re really tired by the end of the day.

So here are some sights and sounds from Hammock Life:

1. The pink and orange of dawn, hazy through the mosquito netting.

2. The bright lights of the squid boats fishing through the night.

3. The crackling of hermit crabs moving through the leaves on the ground beneath – quite eerie.

4. The regular chorus of the crickets as they suddenly burst into song.

5. The endless lapping of the waves.

6. The stars.

7. One’s own feet down there at the end.

Good work, Hennessey Hammocks, your product is great!

Day 17 Status: I will be dreaming of some very special time I recently spent in an orange hammock by the beach. Momenticos deliciosos!

Hammock Life part 2. Hello to all. I hope our exploits continue to be interesting and exciting. I will tell you a bit more about hammock life.

While our hammocks are pretty great, they are not water proof. The reason is that because of space considerations and the expectation that this would be the driest month of the year, everyone except Saul left the rain sheet designed to be used with the hammock at home – a decision we have come to regret more than a little.

You see, while the hammocks can provide a pretty decent sleep, when you have to spend half a long dark night hovering under a tree as the sky is ripped apart by thunder and the rain pours down, it doesn’t make for a very happy bunch of campers.

But then the sun comes out again, it is beautiful once more, and it’s hard not to smile. Today Saul made us all actors in a little video he made for a friend’s wedding back home. It turned out to be quite fun, and we were all rewarded with a single jelly bean that he had been saving for the purpose. It was a taste sensation greatly enjoyed by all. Have a great day whoever, and wherever you are.

Status Day 18: Going to make it!

Several of the team, for a variety of reasons, have decided to leave the island tomorrow. I’m sad at this prospect, but in the end perhaps it’s not unexpected considering the difficulty of what we are doing.

I’m resolved more than ever to make it the full 30 days. I believe I have the stamina to do so.

On a happier note, it’s Nick’s birthday tomorrow, which I think is giving everyone something to look forward to.

Status: Sad to see our friends leave, but I’m slightly relieved as I have fewer potential patients to worry about.

We had all looked forward to Nick’s birthday as a real milestone for the team, so I think everyone woke up this morning quite excited. In addition, Matt, Angi, Jono, Kristen and Lisa decided they would leave here today, so there was their excitement of going home in the air as well.

We celebrated the birthday in fine style, and I think it will be one Nick will not soon forget. The present I made for Nick (a checker board from bamboo and other drift wood) seemed to be well received and I certainly working on it has kept me going the last few days.

Then we said goodbye to five of our team mates, which was certainly sad, but I think everyone did really well to get as far as they did, and obviously they each have their reasons, as well as many good things to look forward to.

Happily Jono’s back has improved enough that he was able to move relatively easily, and I think he will make an uneventful recovery.

For the five that remain, we discussed shared tasks, and reorganised ourselves a little. And I am confident we will all continue to do well over the coming days.

Day 22: Yes, 30 days should be just about right. Glad I came on this thing.

Had a great day today, really finding myself in the rhythm of things in terms of writing. And greatly enjoying the opportunity of hanging out with Saul again after so many years.

I have decided that instead of staying on the populated island close to this one, I might try to book several intervening flights and visit some friends in Singapore for a few days before returning to London.

So, Justin and Kate, if you are reading this, expect an email in about a week. I hope I can catch up with you guys.

To everybody else, thanks for reading these messages.

Certainly I don’t think an experience like this is necessarily right for everyone, but I do encourage all of you to put yourself in situations which challenge you, whatever they may be, as it is when we’re outside our comfort zone that we have the chance to learn a great deal and gain (as I have here) valuable perspectives on the daily lives we normally lead, often without thought or question.

Day 25: Two men left.

Status: Very much looking forward to a toasted ham and cheese sandwich but otherwise doing ok!

Huenu, Maya and Nick all left today. Nick had been planning to go for several days, but Huenu and Maya decided rather hurriedly on the evening of the 24^th.

So by the afternoon it was just me and Saul left on the island. Who could have guessed the number would have changed so fast, from 10 on Day 19 to two on Day 25!

But I am happy to still be here and happy that Saul is with me. We spent the afternoon just relaxing, discussing various things and taking short video clips.

It is certainly very beneficial for me to continue to have so much free time for thinking and writing. But of course I am looking very much forward to the people, food and comforts of home.

I think the remaining days will be quite quiet and I’m happy with that. So rarely do we get to have real quiet time that I feel privileged. Especially since I will get to enjoy it in such a beautiful natural setting.

The sunset was quite magnificent, a pleasure to behold. Just to think, we could see such wonder every day, all around us, if only we opened our eyes every once in a while.

Buenos noches mi hermosa. Alvermas con los engelitos!

Day 26: The monsoon is coming.

Status: Hoping the monsoon holds off for three days!

We had a strong indication today that the rainy season proper is just around the corner or, indeed, upon us already. A heavy storm with wind and driving rain swept through in the afternoon and everything was wet as a result.

We sat huddled under the rain sheet of Saul’s hammock for several hours, swapping stories about extreme encounters we’ve had in the outdoors.

Eventually the rain eased and we decided to try and get a fire going. Luckily, with Saul holding a plastic bag over me and the fire, we were successful, and cooked some of the extra rice that Maya and Huenu had left us – much appreciated guys, it really helped to lift our spirits.

Then, because my hammock has no rain cover (yes, yes, I realise I should have built a shelter weeks ago, but it just hasn’t been necessary till now), it was decided that I would sleep on the sand with the cushions and emergency blanket, lying beneath Saul’s hammock so as to be protected by his rain sheet.

In the end the whole thing was very unsuccessful – I was very uncomfortable, though I was warm and dry, and Saul was very cold as my emergency blanket blocked heat from the ground from travelling up to him. It was worth a try though.

Joe, 32, is from Cape Town, South Africa. He enjoys playing frisbee, reading philosophy and photographing sunsets and can't wait to immerse himself in nature and live by his wits.

Status: Glad to be here. Looking forward to seeing how it all unfolds.

So the beach was quite different from what I’d expected, the waves breaking far more roughly than I would like. We had no initial plan on arrival, so people wandered around a little and did some exploring. Carrying the med kit down the beach was no fun as it is REALLY heavy.

Most of the group then went about finding somewhere to put their hammocks, but I decided to check out the water quality first. We tried out the mini filter pump with good effect (there was much debate about bringing it, but I am very glad we did!).

The water tastes ok, a little brackish, but I don’t think dangerously so. Then, with the help of Kristen and Maya, I constructed a frame to support the med kit off the ground. Worked well – I love constructing stuff.

This took a lot of the afternoon, and then in a rush I had to find a hammock spot with the help of Nick. In the meantime, Matt found a coconut, which we all enjoyed and everyone was picking up hermit crabs, including some very big grand-daddies for dinner. They were boiled and enjoyed by everyone.

We sat around the fire chatting for some time, but everyone was pretty tired so we headed to bed. Getting into the hammock was a bit tricky, and that was the end of the day.

Status Day 11: My new hammock spot is great and the sweet water here quite delicious.

I have the feeling that soon one or several team members will choose to leave the island. I don’t know who or when or why, it’s more a subtle impression that I cannot shake. If this does happen it’ll sadden me, as

I would dearly like us all to make it to Day 30. But of course it’s difficult and each must make their own decision.

I’m pleased to say there is time to watch the constant busyness of insects – something which I greatly enjoy as an inducement for thought. They go about apparently frantically, labouring in heat that completely exhausts us, and yet they are undoubtedly living out a highly developed programme of behaviour, which has allowed them to continue to thrive.

This causes me to wonder at our own existence and whether our apparent freedom (if and when we actually get around to using it!) is in fact a cunning ruse. Perhaps we too are merely living out a programme, but one so ‘cleverly’ developed that it allows us to believe we are autonomous… mmm …

Status Day 14: Soldiering on. Seneca would be proud!

Today is two weeks since we arrived on the island. I think we are all doing really well. I will have fresh clothes after laundry, which is great. The tide has come up very high the last two days and today washed out our fire. Not too nice!

I had my best sleep of all last night, which was much needed. And good dreams – a pleasant change from the first few days.

Status Day 15: Started a new woodwork project – a present for Nick’s birthday – and it’s certainly keeping me busy, which is good.

Greetings all readers and thanks again for the support. It’s very exciting to have reached half way, and I think psychologically it’s important for us all as we can now begin to count down instead of up.

However, as Saul remarked to me today, ‘it would be sad to wish this time away’ – a mistake I often make in normal life – as despite the difficulty, there is much to be gained from being here.

Luckily everyone is still in relatively good health and there have yet to be any serious medical accidents!

I’m missing food a great deal, from simple things like a ham and cheese sandwich to elaborate, multi-course feasts that I dream up in my head.

Certainly I am beginning to understand how difficult it can be to function well when hungry, which re-affirms my choice of the Peninsula School Feeding Association as my charity. Don’t forget donations are still open and we hope to raise as much as possible.

Day 20: Watching the huge thunder clouds roll past is GREAT.

Our first day with just the five of us passed uneventfully. I’m certainly less busy than I was, with fewer medical jobs and less water needing to be pumped. Physically I’m feeling well, so we did a big firewood collection in the afternoon, which I hope will last us several days.

Me, Saul and Nick have started playing the card game Hearts on a regular basis to pass the time and I must say, I do miss being able to settle down with a good book. I’m not missing my cell phone at all, or the internet for that matter, and that is kind of nice.

Life here for me continues to be about routines, but I’m also starting to take great advantage of the free time, with some more in-depth thinking and writing than I have felt up to till now – it is a rare chance that I plan not to waste.

Besides occasional food fantasies (today for hot toast and strawberry jam) I am not troubled overly by hunger, which I’m very glad of!

Bonita chica lunda: como estas? Soy est bien. Te mandar besos e arazos. J

Day 21: I haven’t been inside a building in 21 days. How odd, yet how awesome!

Today was probably one of my best days in spite of an inevitable degree of tiredness. I did a good deal of thinking, particularly with regard to my upcoming studies in London and several other things, including the possibility of returning here in 10 years (with more numerous supplies of course!) for a period of review and reflection similar to what I am doing now.

Nick and I also processed a large amount of firewood so our stock pile is at a high level, which is very comforting as it means less energy expenditure over the next few days.

Saul and I had a great discussion about books we would recommend and why. I wrote and thought quite a bit about the sort of life I wish to have in the future. Certainly the time here to just think, with minimal external demands on my time, has been enormously valuable as it is so markedly different from the hectic pace of my ‘normal’ life – which makes me wonder, of course, how I might need to begin to change aspects of that life.

I was once again privileged to witness an incredible thunderstorm on the horizon at night from my hammock – evidence once again that time spent in nature is its own reward!

Day 27: The low levels of bacon on this island are appalling!

After a very bad night’s sleep and constant rain throughout the morning, I probably felt my most frustrated and grumpy. I had been hoping to dry enough wood to last us to the end, but the sun was just NOT playing along.

But after some carbs (in the form of my and Saul’s rice and couscous mixed together) my mood lifted – it has been amazing how food can do this.

The sun showed itself and by the end of the day we had three big bags of pretty dry wood.

In the afternoon we added a roof to my hammock constructed out of the emergency blanket. The only real concern was strong wind, but luckily through the night it was calm with thankfully no rain.

I was able to sleep though I got a bit cold through the night, only to discover in the morning that the Velcro strip on the underside of the hammock was OPEN! Go figure.

Hi to all out there still reading these messages. Don’t forget to donate if you haven’t already. Thanks for all the support and I hope it has been interesting. Love to you all.

Day 30: Final day

It rained heavily last night but my improvised emergency-blanket rain sheet worked excellently and I was dry the whole night. I didn’t get much sleep though, due to the excitement of knowing that soon I will see friends and family again.

I got up very early, while the one-day-past-full moon was still in the sky and the horizon was dotted with the as-always magnificent cloud formations. As the pink light of the coming day seeped into the sky on a soft underbelly of cloud, I was reminded not to waste a single moment of this life. Not only because it is fragile and might end at any time, but also because it is, quite simply, marvellous, and I felt privileged to be able to witness such a beautiful example of the daily spectacle of sunrise.

Camp pack-up was simple and quick. My fire from last night was still smoking despite the rain so we got that going just for fun, and now we will write a message to place in a bottle to release at sea during our return journey.

We have pushed the locator button on our one-way communication device and hope the boat will come early, as the tide is very low at the planned pick-up time in the afternoon, which would leave us stuck here another night. No thanks!

Status: Thanks again to all who have read this. I hope it has been interesting and worthwhile. It certainly has been for me. Live long and prosper!

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 14
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18

Jono, 31, is a born and bred Joburg man currently working as a private banker. He pushes his mind and body to the limit by partaking in various endurance races from mountain biking to road running and can't wait to test his capabilities on the island. He lives fast and takes chances because why tip-toe through life only to arrive at death's door quietly.

Currently living in : Johannesburg, South Africa

What's your occupation? I am a Private Banker - I look after rich people!

Status: ‘Jungle King’ explores new terrain

The boat trip was long and except for a few moments of silence I spent most of the trip talking to Kristen, which helped the time go by. We rounded a headland and there the beach was. Can’t really say what emotions I was going through – it’s kind of been like that since I left JHB. All seems normal, which to me says that this is right.

We jumped off the boat, said goodbye to Adelle and just like that Life 2 the Limit officially started. So many months preparing, and we just stepped onto the beach we would be leaving only in 30 days time.

We decided to spend an hour scouting around and poor Kristen ended up with me and the Jungle King II knife in the actual dense jungle. It was unbelievably dense. We stumbled across a few lizards but that’s about it. Probably too hot for other animals to be out.

After our trek we picked a spot for our hammocks and set up. We all scavenged for bits and bobs and collected hermit crabs along the way. Saul found an old fish trap which we fixed up, baited and swam out to set.

We rinsed in the river, by which time Joe and Nick had water in bottles for us to drink. It’s horrible – that’s all I can really say. Not refreshing in the least.

Some of the others had got a fire going and by the time the sun was down we had a couple of big hermit crabs. Kristen and Saul boiled the crabs and we each got a tiny piece of meat in a leg for dinner.

I lay around the fire for a bit and then we all headed for bed. I hardly slept. Besides not being able to move much in the hammock, I guess I’m just not used to it. The jungle came alive at night – things crawling around, amplified by the dry leaves under our hammocks, kept me up the whole night.

Status: Mind slipped this morning, but recovered.

I woke feeling like I’d been run over by a train. I have a headache and my back is pretty stiff. Saul woke me to go fishing, but I couldn’t open my eyes.

I got nicely sunburnt yesterday, which isn’t helping the way I’m feeling – which is spaced out and battling to focus.

I tried to spearfish in the rock pools but couldn’t see anything. My mind started drifting – this whole thing is going to be harder than I thought.

Heat is madness and I reckon it’s only 9am. Matt and Saul came back from a fishing trip with nothing. Fish are going to be a problem. Hopefully our trap will have something.

Huenu says Day 3 is the hardest and by Day 4 we will start to adjust. She threw up this morning, and Maya isn’t well either. I think it’ll be good to chill the whole day today.

Had a little sleep, then went to check the trap with Saul – Vibram shoes working well, by the way. Trap is empty. Grrr. A lot of energy used to swim out there. We fixed the trap and then I slept again. Woke up to sound of thunder. Rain again, which is awesome because it tastes amazing.

Saul and I prepped the trap and headed out, this time to the other end of the beach. We went far out – I was feeling better than this morning. The fish seem more in this region. On the way back we tried to spear another eel, still no joy.

Rain came down and Joe collected a lot of it – such a treat to come back to.

Earlier in the day Matt saw a banana tree and brought back a bunch of really small and green bananas. This was going to be dinner, along with a fish Nick caught. Kristen and I gutted and fried it. You must imagine fish 15cm long being divided by 10!

Chilling in my hammock now to write. The bananas were nasty. They were so bitter you had to eat with water to gulp down.

I’m stating to smell – got quite a shock to smell my own armpits. Being in the sea so long I thought I’d be clean! Might consider washing tomorrow evening.

My hammock has sand in it. Awesome. Second night in my new beachfront apartment. Hope it gets better, or else I’m off to find new accommodation.

Status: No emotion in the kill. I thanked it for dying.

Didn’t sleep last night - it rained, so was wet and got up to change into something drier. Rain made the sand hard so tossed and turned rest of night. Woke before sunrise to go fishing, Matt was already at the river. I had no joy but Matt got one. Nick was gutting fish on the shore and he saw another eel. Yes he got away. I finally know where the saying, ‘slippery as an eel’ comes from! I will get him, mark my words.

A spoonful of fish and a small piece of coconut was breakfast. Chatted to Kristen about why neither of us brought food. Why do we have to test ourselves like this? Angi and Nick offered me rice last night and I turned it down!! Pride? Ego? I know I battle to accept help from people and maybe this is the time to ‘give in’. I think all our minds are doing a step back and questioning this whole trip. Without being over dramatic, none of us wants to die here! Could it get to a stage where we decide as a group that enough is enough?

I still think it’s early days and the body is adjusting to no food. Don’t assume it will get easier. How much of an impact is the rest of the group having food, having on the motivational levels to catch food? Certainly we have not tried everything. I’m calling a group meeting tonight to discuss a plan. We need some structure. It can’t be two people fishing, it must be five!

Nick just trapped a lizard that was after our fish guts. We poured him into a big bucket and I stabbed him through the head. I did apologise to it but it wouldn’t die, so Nick had to stab him too and then I gave him five more piercings to end the battle. His body is about 8cm long. We’ll braai him tonight and split it. Nick didn’t enjoy that kill, but he’ll have to get used to it.

Saul and I checked the trap – nothing again. The swim tired us out badly. We rebaited and dumped close to where Matt saw a lobster.

I used my Sea to Summit body and hair wash. The smell was great.

We started to talk around the fire while various people were preparing meals. The Viking Maya was quite happy to gut and cook the lizard, which I found quite funny. The women in the group are tough, that’s for sure. Don’t know many South African women like this.

The conversation steered toward putting up a shelter and we agreed we hadn’t exhausted all resources.

No doubt that people are thinking of leaving. You could sense it. Each person was coming up with real and valid excuses as to why he/she didn’t think we can make the 30 days. We’re all concerned with the availability of food. Every night we can see more and more fishing boats pillaging the ocean – last night was easily 20!

Don’t think I mentioned how awesome it is to brush your teeth. The taste of the toothpaste is incredible, it’s hard not to brush for 10 minutes, you just want the taste to stay.

I woke in the night with lightening – not good. I checked with Kristen and she was awake – we had to make a plan, quickly. She had a space blanket and I had a plastic bag – but lucky for us the rain didn’t come.

Status: Day 6: A snail could outpace me.

Up early and woke Saul. We fished like champs – 14 fish! Sadly only three were of size, but it was the most meat we’ve had in six days – about two and a bit mouthfuls. Matt gave some of his too. He’s not too strong today so I was surprised.

After sleeping, went and cut palm leaves with Kristen for our shelter. I can’t go fishing as I’ve picked up an ear infection of sorts. Doc Joe pulled out a clot of pus in the morning and put in some drops and cotton wool – so now I’m battling to hear people talk – I have to turn my left ear to them – big joke!

It takes a while to get going here. Putting shoes on can take 10 minutes. A while ago I found myself sitting on a log doing nothing but stare and the tree I wanted to chop down. Eventually, after repeating ‘get up, get up’ in my head, I did. Mind is slow and body slower. Honestly, a month might be too long for all of us! After tomorrow a week will be up. Madness, I tell you.

I cleaned the dishes for supper, and Maya gutted the 11 fish that Saul and Nick caught. 25 fish in one day!

But they’re small and may be protected. Which starts an interesting conversation over dinner about this thing we’re doing. I don’t believe pulling out almost 600 reef fish over out 30 days is a good thing – a feeling shared by most of the group. Again though we agreed we haven’t exhausted all our options.

We’ve split tasks for the morning – Matt, Angi and Lisa will go around the point with the raft they built – if our beach collects so much random junk, maybe others have more interesting junk?

Saul and Nick fishing, Huenu, Joe, Maya and myself will sort out camp.

In the afternoon Kristen and I will fetch water and set snares, and look out for edible plants and fruit. So that’s tomorrow sorted.

Stars are bright tonight. By the way it’s Day 7 tomorrow and I have not had a poo. Not cool.

Status Day 9: Recharging batteries for tomorrow’s move.

Saul and I caught some nice fish this morning, which Maya prepared. Weather was nice and overcast so we could sit and eat breakfast by the fire. Had a good portion as four people didn’t want any.

Decided to rest today because of our expedition yesterday, so lazed around chatting to Joe, Maya and Kristen. Really awesome to tap into their brains – wealth of information. Getting lots of nutrition tips from Maya.

Got a little bored this afternoon and started feeling hungry. Drank lots of water to get rid of the feeling.

As dusk was approaching, Saul and I got five fish for dinner. Joe cooked a massive batch of rice for all of us. Again so generous. We each managed three mouthfuls of rice. We chilled round the fire and went to bed.

Dad, I still haven’t had a shit. Do you feel my pain?

Status Day 10: Change is as good as a holiday?

Day of the big move to greener pastures I hope. Packing up was easy, unpacking on a new beach not so easy. Sapped of all my energy. No food in the morning of course.

The new spot is good. Nice to have a fresh source of cool water and it tastes great. Kristen, Matt, Nick and I set up in the same place. It took a while because I was finished.

It’s official – mornings and nights I’m good, but during the day I’m useless. Need to figure out how to get through the day. Perhaps my little Soduku book will help.

Saul and I went fishing in our new territory. A lot of coral, which makes our net fishing more challenging. We got only four as it’s only Maya, Huenu, Saul and I that are eating fish. Joe surprised us with hot cocoa after dinner. Awesome treat – and then hit the hay.

Status Day 12: Felt strong today despite heavy rain.

Rain must have started around 4am, I’m guessing. Climbed out my hammock and sat with Kristen, Nick and Matt under Nick’s hammock. I was cold. I was sitting with no shirt on and rain dripping off the hammock onto me. I just put my head on my arms and prayed it would stop. Matt the wise old man went to light a fire. To everyone’s amazement he did, by which time the rain had stopped. Soaked to the core, a group of us huddled around the bonfire getting dry.

As the sun started to come up Huenu, Saul and I went to fish the other side of the bay. Success! Nine fish! As we came out it started to rain again and stopped briefly for us to eat.

I had closed my eyes next to the fire and was woken by chef Maya. Started to add salt to my fish that my mom insisted I bring, among other things that I wish I had listened to her about.

On flavours, I reckon in 12 days we’ve tasted rice, fish, salt, coconut, water, tea, and a sip of rum and Joe’s cocoa, but besides that I have six flavours on this island. Taste buds will go crazy when I eventually hit the mainland.

Started to clean up around our hammocks. What a mission. There are a billion ants on this island. We are constantly covered in them. A little irritating to say the least.

Some of the team went for afternoon oysters on the rocks. I’m allergic to them so shame for me, it’s fish for a month. Surge was hard work for our fish tonight, but we got a few. So uncomfortable around the campfire, how I miss a chair or a couch.

Status Day 13: The eagle has landed

Felt good this morning as we went out to fish. Sea was rougher than a bear’s arse. Talking of arses, I went for my first bowel movement in 12 days! Sat on some polystyrene, wiped with leaves, then ran naked into the sea to wash off. Less than ideal for what back home for me is a meditation session or an opportunity to call friends.

Daydreamed most of the day. As I thought, boredom is going to be a major factor.

Bad evening fishing session – throw net has a hole and we only got one fish, which Saul and I shared. Revenge tomorrow.

Status Day 15: Jono to return as a culinary chef.

Picture-perfect sunrise this morning. My appreciation for my surroundings continues. Saul was a little grumpy this morning but as soon as we had that first fish his mood changed. We caught 10 and even tried a new technique, where I held one end and Saul the other and we simply dropped the net on the fish.

We are still spending a lot of time in the water – I reckon we average four hours a day!

Hung around my hammock most of the day, and in the late afternoon went for a walk to a next door beach with Matt and Kristen. Sadly no coconuts.

My back has been suspect for the whole day. Not sure what I’ve done to spur it on as it’s been good for a while now. Joe gave me some pills and Maya rubbed my back.

We’ve decided not to fish in the evenings anymore, so we’re down to one meal a day of SURPRISE fish.

I decided today that I’m not doing 30 days for sure. There are a few reasons and all will be revealed soon enough as to when exactly I’m escaping the island.

Status Day 8: Lost and found

Slept pretty well actually. Feeling a little stronger today. Huenu and Maya cooked up some rice which was also given to Saul. He called me over and I had a spoonful. Never knew rice tasted so good. He tapped me on the shoulder and said: ‘You’re coming with us.’ And like that I got up and a bunch of us hit the river to see if we could cross the mountain to find other food resources.

About halfway up Lisa, Angi and Kristen turned back. The route was hectic, but they volunteered to return and tell the rest of the group that we might not make it back to camp before dark. Huenu, Matt, Saul and I continued.

The jungle is relentless. Vines, thorns, rotten tree trunks that break under our weight, it’s exhausting. But at least we were protected from the searing rays of the sun by the jungle canopy.

Long story, but we got disorientated and ended up not far from our beach. Amazing. The dense forest scrambled our bearings completely. We had a fairly long swim back to the beach.

Nick and Joe had sacrificed some of their rice for us and it was ready when we had taken all our wet clothes off. This time I had more than four teaspoons. Awesome and so generous of the boys. I sat exhausted by the fire and went to bed early.

Status Day 11: Maya the Viking teaches nutrition.

Woke a little late, Maya cooked the fish Saul and I caught. We made light work of it, with Nick assisting by holding a basket for us. Used my Zambuk for the first time for my many bites, know it will do the trick!

Played some Sudoku and did a crossword with Saul.

After a midday nap chatted to Huenu and Maya – tossed some ideas around. Such a cool bunch of people to use as a sounding board.

Think I may have fixed my hammock now, although I won’t hold my breath.

Managed my boredom ok though today. Those puzzles definitely helped even though the brain is slow.

Been a fair amount of talk of people leaving early. Guess it crosses all our minds on an hourly basis. I’m just setting short-term goals to get me through. I’m still envisaging a rapid decline in health. I know the human body is strong, but how!

Maya and I chatted for ages in the afternoon. Getting all my nutritional tips from her. We walked down the beach to see Saul, who has set up a palace. Looks great and inspired me to fix my spot up. Going to rope Nick into it.

Only caught one fish tonight, which Saul and I shared. Pickings were so scarce tonight.

Hit the sack early. Yes, still have not gone to the toilet!

Status Day 14: Two weeks – pat yourself on the back.

Slept like a champ last night. After Saul fixed the throw net we hit the water. Flat out exhausted but we caught some at least.

In our morning conversation I mentioned my hammock was beginning to smell. Saul said, ‘Of urine?’ Indeed. Apparently in a state of ketosis, which are bodies are in, where we are burning proteins and fats, we will perspire urea to a small extent. Coolio!

I fear Saul and I are expending so much energy fishing that we’re not able to give back to our bodies. Head rushes have got worse today every time I stand up. I might not have had enough water!

Starting to think more about home and obviously the food I miss. My brain is trying to make sense of this monster that is Life 2 the Limit. Knowing one’s limit is one thing, to act on it is another, especially when ego is involved.

Fourteen days like this has been one hell of an achievement, which upon reflection I will be proud of. How much longer I stay I’m still not sure. I don’t see myself doing the 30 days. I just don’t think it will be healthy for me, and a lesson I keep reminding myself of is to stop ‘punishing’ my body. It’s given up on me before as a little eye-opener and I need to start listening to it more. Respecting it!

Messages: Mom, I dreamt you won R120 million in the Lotto. Wait for the right game!

Joffers, did you win the Two Oceans?

Good luck for Ironman Duncs, Gav and Fred.

Dad and Dee, hope the deal is done.

Jas, Claire miss you too.

Caught one fish tonight. I didn’t eat it. Felt really good this evening though. Stayed up chatting with Maya and Joe by the fire. I really took note of my surroundings this evening. Had an amazing sunset while I was still in the water, which I think kick-started it for me.

Lying in my hammock now I see 20 chukka boats raping the ocean, but the stars are incredible. I’ll close my eyes staring at them.

Status Day 16: Fish for nothing

Starting to battle to get the fish down, I couldn’t eat my full portion today, but got enough down to take my tablets for my back. Back has got worse – it’s the disc bulge causing back spasms again. Joe’s given me more tablets, which just makes me sleep more.

Angi and Lisa gave me some of their rice and lentils, which was very generous, so I could at least take a stronger tablet in the evening. It’s occurred to me tonight that for all the fishing I’ve done for Huenu and Maya, Huenu has never offered me any of her rice. Maya has given me a mouthful before. Don’t know what that’s all about.

I’m becoming more frustrated with my back, and the fact that Joe won’t give me an injection now makes me more frustrated. I’m thinking of stealing it.

If the back gets any worse they’ll have to carry me off this island, and I don’t think he realises that.

I think I’m starting to recognise a pattern with my back – it’s definitely telling me when my body us under stress and has had enough punishment.

Day 17 Status: Drugs are good, mmmkay?

Maya brought me breakfast in bed this morning, something unexpected…FISH!

Had to eat to be able to take an anti-inflammatory. Been sleeping on and off but don’t think there is any real change. Decided to steal injection tomorrow night under the cover of darkness, I might need an accomplice though, who to ask? Matt agreed to help, knew it! Taking so many pills, don’t know whether I am coming or going. Drunk if you will. Sure passes the time. Lay by the fire for a bit, then Joe helped me to bed. I have to pee in a bottle now because it’s too much to get up in the middle of the night. Kristen gave me pearls of wisdom tonight as we lay in our hammocks. She said ‘You need to celebrate your achievements.’ Hit me like a ton of bricks. I NEVER do that. After any big achievement I simply throw my medal in the cupboard and continue. From now on I am throwing a party of sorts to acknowledge the event.

Day 18 status: Ships ahoy!

Kristen brought me fish in my hammock. Shoved it down just so I can take pills. I can’t see myself eating fish for a while or ever again.

Happy Birthday Ma! I hope you have a great day. Miss you and love you lots.

I’m 100% sure I am going to leave the island tomorrow. I’m useless with this back, plus the dynamics of this monster changes tomorrow. Allow me to elaborate.

Nick’s birthday is tomorrow and Huenu has decided, as the puppet master, to order a massive birthday cake, cokes, Oreos, chips and chocolate bars!

And just like that, sports fans, the ‘game’ changes.

Who knows why she did this? My thoughts are that she did this to bribe us to stay, as we knew about this treat on around Day 10^, as a few people were already talking about leaving around Day 13.

But the main reason, I believe, is that she has been suffering. For the last couple of days she does nothing but lie around the whole day, while Saul and I fish for her and Maya prepares the meal. She has used the excuse of Nick’s birthday as an easy means of bringing food into the game, and don’t get me wrong – no-one would persuade her against it – but for me this fundamentally negates the basic premise of Life 2 the Limit.

I therefore feel there is no need for me to stay longer. I will spend the rest of the day sleeping and trying to take care of my back so that I will be well enough to endure the boat ride ‘home’.

Joe has agreed to give me an injection in the morning to ease the pain for the trip back. (Thanks Joe!)

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18

Kristen is a 30 year old event planner living in Calgary, Canada.

She is constantly on the go, immersing herself in new opportunities whenever she can.

Kirsten is passionate about food, wine and people. She spends much of the little spare time she has photographing the world around her, writing, cooking and traveling to new destinations.

What's your occupation? I am an event planner at a small boutique style catering company called Devour Catering.

Status: Excited, optimistic, a little curious.

Wow, what can I say about the first day? It was pretty unreal. It felt like we were going camping for the day …

When we got on the island the first thing I did was go on a jungle hike with Jono. We tried to find a trail head or clearing of some sort, but no luck. Then again, Jono brought this Jungle King knife! So we cut in from our drop point. It was shocking – walls and walls of canopy built naturally with all sorts of vines. It wasn’t as threatening as I’d imagined though.

We must have cut through for a half hour or so until we came across a dry creek bed. We figured if we followed it we’d hit the river somewhere. Well, fat chance of that. The canopies were so tightly wound. Jono tried to go on top to weigh them down, I tried to go under because I’m smaller … It was like a giant human trap.

We could hear the others on the other side but had to journey back through the creek to get to them. There were a few fish we could probably catch but the hike in seems so unworth it. There were a few snake holes, a couple of spiders, lots of webs and millions of ants. Plant-wise, yikes! Not a lot of food in there, if any at all!

Next we set up camp a little. Found a place for our hammocks in the trees on the beach.

Then comes dinner: hmmm…

What do we do? Well, our fish traps haven’t worked yet so we opted for hermit crabs. Some pretty good ones too.

So on our first day I’d have to say, all in all, it was a pretty good one.

Status Day 8: A great sense of accomplishment today, both mental and physical.

This morning we got the idea to trek over the mountain to a ranger station to barter or beg for food. Angi and I stuffed a few bucks in our bags just in case.

So Huenu, Lisa, Matt, Jono, Saul, Angi and I set off, following the river. The hike was supposed to be about an hour, according to one of the locals, but looking at the mountain I would say at least four hours up and two or three down. The jungle was dense, wow! The climb got steeper and steeper, with boulder after boulder, two to five foot in height. It was a push to get through, having had little food for eight days. Wearing my Vibram Five Fingers shoes was a good idea – you can feel the rocks beneath you.

We climbed for three hours or so – seemed never-ending. Jono noticed a ridge we should have been heading over. We checked the compass and realised we were going due east instead of south east. We went up another bit and realised we wouldn’t make it back that night. We hadn’t told the others we’d be gone that long, so Angi, Lisa and I trekked back so they wouldn’t call an emergency. While the others continued, we had a nice jaunt down, a tough one but almost relaxing in a way. We took a couple of breaks and chatted a lot.

I really feel lucky to have met them both. They’ve already influenced my life and I so look forward to keeping in touch with them. Angi at 42 is just an amazing, inspiring woman. She definitely gives you something to strive for. She’s like the Energiser Bunny, so positive and so full of energy.

And Lisa is so ambitious, daring and at the same time a really giving spirit. She and Angi have been great supports throughout our adventure. Anyways, enough of the sappy stuff.

Back at camp we said the others would be gone for the night. Angi kindly made some rice (which I didn’t bring). It was an amazing boost.

Not even an of our beach. Somehow we went hour later the jungle hiking team came down the beach looking dejected. They’d come out on the other side very wrong.

There were a couple of highlights. Angi found a quarter bottle of Pepsi and those of us that went trekking had a swig, a little sugar boost. The things you do. Mom, I know you’re probably grossed out but seriously it tasted so good.

Then before we went to sleep we had some tea, which had also washed up. Wow, such a treat. We felt a little posh, like we were on a camping trip drinking tea by the fire – albeit in Styrofoam noodle cups.

Status Day 9: Intrigued, a little lazy and curious as to what our group will be like in the coming days.

I knew today would be a lazy day after our hike yesterday. All the scrapes, bumps and bruises have surfaced as a reminder of our accomplishment. I didn’t sleep last night at all, staring up at the sky through my hammock at the trees, the lightening and the little creature taunting me in the tree above. This is the second time that little thing (whatever it is) sat in the tree shaking the leaves and what felt like throwing things at me.

I woke up feeling like a zombie. It took 15 minutes of sitting, a swim in the ocean and a dishwashing session before I felt even remotely awake.

It was a thinking day for me. I wrote all day which was nice, so many thoughts and so many recipes. You’d think writing about food would be torture, but in fact it’s soothing. Also gives me something to look forward to when I get home.

We had a few good chats today, which brought a couple of things to mind:

I’m not really the lie-down-on-the-beach type. Once in a while it’s great to grab a book and sit with your thoughts. But 30 days – don’t really think that’s me.

When I decided to do this I was hoping for more, I guess, which is a learning experience itself. I keep thinking of a saying a friend often says to me: ‘Live, don’t exist.’

I think about that often, but thinking is not action and action is living. I’ll wrestle with my thoughts of staying or going for at least another four days. But sitting on a beach, starving my body and eventually my brain is existing, not living.

I feel no less successful though, in body, mind and spirit. I have learned and taken in a new world of sorts. There are a million and one things to think about, and when it comes to staying or going, the topic has been out in open discussion almost every day for the last three.

I know for a fact that all 10 people could make it the 30 days, no problem. But at the same time these 10 people have no real connection to the 30 days any more. The connection is to living and learning, time frame being exempt.

Tomorrow is Day 10 and we are moving to the next beach over. I’m really excited, I think it will be a spirit lightener for us all. A little motivation to make a new home and start the next period of time with a fresh outlook. Oh the month is young…

Status Day 10: Refreshed, uplifted and game for at least three more days.

Today we moved beaches, yahoo! The change of scenery was very uplifting and even better, there is a waterfall with a stream coming literally right on the beach. Part of me wonders why we didn’t start here in the first place. Nonetheless, it’s a great lift to the body, mind and spirit. Who knew cold, fresh water would be so powerful?

So we set up our new digs and tried our best (lacking energy) to make a home. Today I think will be the day where we truly will not have any food at all, not even a morsel.

I’ve now tested seven or eight plants and roots for edibility – we are shit out of luck. Twenty more days to go and quickly running out of plants to try.

Shockingly though, I still haven’t felt hungry – I mean I know I’m hungry but I haven’t actually felt it.

So tomorrow is our first and whole day on our new beach. I will be praying to the food gods all night.

Status Day 12: Torn between a few things – to eat or not to eat. To stay or go

Late yesterday afternoon Lisa, Angi and I went for a boulder hike along the ocean to check out the oysters – quite a distance, probably 125m down the beach and then 75m of rock climbing. But then it was like heaven. I must have eaten at least 18 oysters fresh off the rocks, with a little cayenne pepper. Yummy, honestly the best thing I’ve had (aside from the obvious rum, tea and hot chocolate) since I’ve been here.

Then at night Angi and Lisa shared their rice with Matt and I. It’s an amazing and selfless thing to do in a situation like this.

Our actual Day 12 started off with a bang – at about 3.30am it started to rain, and I mean the tropical kind that soaks through to your core in about 30 seconds. Matt and I joined Nick under his hammock in the jungle, Jono joined us a few minutes later. Nothing else we could do – there is no real shelter.

It rained until about 6am.

It will get interesting to see how things change if we have no shelter, possibly no fire, nowhere to sleep and no dry clothes.

You can see the group dynamic changing already. Some are less willing to share, some are more. Some really only spend time with or try to get to know one or two people. And some are more like social butterflies. I have to say though it’s been 12 days, so at a psychological group level we’re still doing pretty good.

It seems the division has come into play based on reef fish, funny enough. There are those that eat it and those that don’t. Everyone has a different moral compass and at the end each individual has to make and be satisfied with their own decision.

I admit it’s tempting, but as the world crumbles beneath us in a million and one ways, knowingly adding to the collapse of an ecosystem isn’t quite where my compass lies. Times are tough, but are they that tough?

Status Day 15: Feeling a little creative today, unfortunately bound to the limits we’ve created.

The halfway mark – we made it. Each small milestone feels like a massive victory! Adelle comes tomorrow and believe me when I say it’s tempting to just jump on her boat and head back. I wandered around taking photographs this morning, which I truly enjoy. But on this island there are only so many things to photograph before they’re all the same.

It was said a couple of times yesterday to just enjoy the boredom. Funny, it’s like being a child and expecting your parents to find you a way out of your own head. I’m stewing in my mind about why we’re here, why I’m here. I think Matt put it best: ‘The reasons will remain unknown until some time down the road when you least expect it.’

It’s hard because you want to apply some form of logic to make it all make sense. I’ve concluded that whatever the reasons are, they are in existence fundamentally, I just can’t see or feel them for now.

I have resolved not to leave on Day 16 which means I’ll at least make it to Day 19, unless of course I make a rash decision tomorrow morning.

I think the train will start soon. Once one person leaves, it’s like a domino effect, others will follow. No-one likes to be first, but really, who’s counting?

I’m still feeling (although in a weak sense) that I am living – but existing is just around the corner. That’s the end of my journey. I will remain happily trapped in my head for a little longer, ‘Living with limits’ as this has been dubbed.

Hoping I come out the other end with a clearer picture of where I’m headed.

Status Day 17: Feeling a little bit of homesickness.

Another day of thinking lies ahead. Last night I must have been hallucinating. I lay my shirt on top and I swear one little part smelt like cinnamon buns (and an odd combination of sweat, salt water, sand etc). I went to sleep almost suffocating myself with it.

So many things run through your mind when so you’re so far away. I can see when you’re in a survival situation (not a contrived one) how they could kill you or keep you alive. I really want to go swimming with my nieces and then out to dinner with them. It’s been less than four weeks since I’ve been gone, and I bet Kallan looks totally different. And Melissa, can William have a full-on conversation now?

I saw Desmond and Aiden before I left too – like little men. I think about you and the fam Lorie. I look forward to seeing your beautiful smiling face Trena, plus a huge hug and kisses to Laine and Chloe. And a big bottle of red wine.

It’s amazing in your everyday life that you have these moments and that’s it, all you think about them. Being away, I cherish them. I feel so lucky to have you all.

Sweet Tash, I’m thinking of you and Jared, you boast more strength than most I know. Just know that today I’m thinking of you and what you make up in my life. Your laughs, love, chats, your generosity, brutal truths, hurts, strengths, weaknesses and your support.

As someone once said, ‘A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature.’

Day 18 status: A little torn.

So today is D day – decision day of sorts. There are a few team members set to leave tomorrow on the 19^th. I have thought profusely of leaving with them.

There are lots of reasons. For one, as of tomorrow the dynamics of living Life 2 the Limit have changed. Huenu and friends have decided that Nick’s birthday (which happens to fall on the 19^th) is a good excuse for food to be brought in by Adelle. So everyone will get a treat, so to speak – a pop, some junk food, and a birthday cake to share. As far as I’m concerned, as hungry as everyone is, it fundamentally changes the challenge. We are no longer living off the land.

Secondly, as mentioned before, a couple of my friends have been generously donating a few spoonfuls of rice a day. This ration will no longer exist so I will be lacking in food sources, save for the few oysters I can bang off the rocks.

Thirdly, the effects of little food and lessening muscle activity are taking a toll on my body. I have lost my immaculate co-ordination, now I look perma-drunk when I walk. To continue on this path for long will definitely bring me to a position of mere existence and nothing more.

Nonetheless, I struggle with whether it’s the right time for me. I have one more day and night to ponder. I will make my decision tomorrow. This may in any case be the last blog from the island, or I may write a few more. You’ll just have to stay tuned to find out! ;)

On a lighter note – Saul gave everyone one jellybean yesterday. Mine was green apple. I know you don’t care, but I have never loved a jelly bean more in my life, or made it last so long in my mouth. Amazing, just having flavour in your mouth is an overwhelming

Status: I’m hopeful but nervous that we’ve chosen an island that’s devoid of food and resources.

Maya and Huenu woke up sick, it’s only the beginning of Day 3. The reality of having NO food at all was starting to set in.

I woke up feeling pretty good, actually, a little tired but that’s about it. I decided to take it easy yesterday, as about an hour after I woke I felt this massive loss of energy. I lay down to write in my journal but even that seemed like too much effort. A little later I had a small burst of energy and decided to make a little spear to stab things with. This isn’t finished yet …

The day was pretty good, just a scary picture of what might really happen over these 30 days. We have two big fish traps that washed up on shore and we’ve set one of them twice, with no success.

Matt, Saul and Lisa have swum out to the west point three times (there’s another point around the corner with a couple of beaches) and there are NO fish. The water’s dead out there. At night there are anywhere from eight to 15 fishing boats, huge ones … I’m sure they’ve been cleaning out this ocean for some time.

As thoughts of what to do with dwindling energy ran through, a storm came in (it’s rained every day of our challenge so far and it’s supposed to be the driest month of the year). The good thing is that the water’s really refreshing. A few of us went into a little cave on our way to the river and it was amazing. A hot, fresh shower in the cold rain. Plus drinking water off the rocks tastes amazing.

We’d also built two rain catchers … thank God for my garbage bags. We got about 10 litres of fresh rain water. It’s amazing, I can’t explain the taste. I never thought I’d say that about water.

We also found a banana tree, but the bananas are very unripe and young. We grabbed a bunch because we’d had nothing else to eat.

I peeled the top layer of the skin and left underneath. We’d normally never eat that part, but beggars can’t be choosers! I cut them into medallions and poured some noodle seasoning that had washed up on the beach. Then boiled them. It was absolutely disgusting. The banana was so young it was the most bitter little piece of food I’ve ever had. It was like a big, bold French red that needed to lie for 10 or 15 years because the tannins were so strong.

Huenu and I also managed to catch 20 or so little minnows out of the river. Maya put a live one whole into my mouth – it was fine, tasted like nothing. I bit it in half so it stopped wriggling in my mouth.

Status: I’m feeling a little bit overworked, a lot of gratitude and a little motivated.

Nothing much has changed, really. It’s a bit disappointing that our search for food has taken over living life to the limit. I was hoping there would be more of an opportunity to think, wander, write and chat with one another.

After I woke up – a little damp from light rain – I walked over to base camp and Joe pointed out a lizard. I stood there with a stick for about 20 minutes, watching its every move, trying to whack it. I missed. Outsmarted by a lizard, shit.

Joe, Huenu, Maya and I went into the jungle to cut some palms to get the palm hearts. Wow! It’s an amazing amount of work for almost nothing. You have to hack down the palm leaves, which are covered in spikes, then chip away at the root until you get to the middle. That’s where the hard part starts, to cut out the heart. And no, it doesn’t taste anything like the yummy palm hearts you get in a can at the grocery store. More like spicy sugar cane, if you get the soft part. If you don’t, it’s like chewing on a stick.

So once you’ve dragged this out the jungle, it takes another 30-45 minutes to scrape the layers of thorns out of them, so you can actually put them in your mouth. But it’s food!

While I was gone Nick killed the lizard. I’ll take victory through friends any day. And yes, it does taste like BBQ chicken. If only we could find some frogs or scorpions (they supposedly taste like peanut butter).

We also had one fish that Nick caught in the net. It’s kind of amazing. I thought I’d have a little trouble thinking about and especially having to kill something. I can tell you right now, if I am able to kill it, any animal in this jungle is dead. Even if it was cute and cuddly, it’s dinner.

There are some decent conversations going around now. It’s hard, because as soon as we start talking, we talk about food – ice-cream sundaes, cheese burgers, hot dog drenched in mustard… I’m craving a Coke and a Twix

It’s a little crazy though, I can feel my energy dwindling, but I haven’t felt hungry once. Guess it pays to have decent water to drink, and by decent I mean just that – it tastes like oil and salt.

We all had a little pow-wow about what more we could do to increase our food sources, because the beach is a dead zone. We also talked about other priorities like a shelter – I mentioned it again but no-one seemed too keen because we’re in the dry season – ha ha, it’s rained every day! And then, the icing on the cake, just before we went to sleep a storm came in and kept us all up for another hour or so.

Status: Day 6: Feeling a little wondrous, appreciative, and really curious for what’s to come.

Well, the day started off a little crappy. Last night after the storm my hammock (which I’d turned over and tied shut) was soaked, I mean soaked – there were actual puddles. It sucked, but strangely it just gives you the motivation to make our space better. So today the mission: get bamboo, wood and palm leaves to build our shelter to go over a couple of hammocks on the beach.

Quite a mission when you’re hungry, even though we ate a decent amount today, 17 little ocean fish – sounds a lot but it’s just enough for a few mouthfuls. Definitely grateful though, it’s the most food we’ve had this entire time.

The only difficulty I had was swallowing it. Today’s the first day I really felt off. I thought I was going to puke but after 20 minutes it passed. Can’t remember the last time I felt like barfing.

Anyway, we gathered the resources to build the shelter; the challenge now is to motivate ourselves to put it together. Interesting that we had no idea what this would feel like. Our goal, as Lisa put it, was to ‘Swiss Family Robinson the shit out of this island’. Oh what a dream.

I’ve been praying to the food gods to allow a few bags of chips to wash up on shore. I know it sounds stupid, but if you could see all the other crap that’s washed up you’d understand it’s a possibility. So far we’ve had coconuts (although not for a couple of days), a steady supply of garlic (weird, I know), and even a lonely little shallot. Food, food, food is on the top of everyone’s mind.

It’s really hard to accomplish anything without a ready food supply. I was hoping to be a bit more creative, learn to carve things, write a lot more… Also to get to know the other nine people a bit better. It’s a mission.

I can tell you I have a bigger appreciation for food. I love food and I love to cook, but it’s so easy to waste. Not wasting it will be top of my mind at home all the time; you can hold me to it.

Well, tomorrow is Day 7, a little victory I suppose. Although it’s been talked about, we would have the opportunity to leave tomorrow as Adelle is coming. No-one is leaving, I’m certain, and that’s great! At least three more days to band together and search for food.

Status Day 11: Bored, fresh and …well, still a bit bored.

Well yesterday was my first day without food. I did cook up four reef fish Jono and Saul caught but frankly I can’t stomach it anymore. I made a broth with cayenne, onion powder and cumin, along with a little salt water from the ocean and the fish heads, and I did have some of that.

The little treat we did have last night was hot chocolate, yippee!! Joe brought some for us and decided Day 10 was good for a spirit lifter.

Today has been nice in a sense – I washed my clothes, first time in 11 days, as well as my hair. I also shaved, which felt awesome. Feel a little like a new person.

Aside from that the day was like any other. It feels a little like a beach vacation, sans food, frozen drinks and the desire to explore.

Status Day 13: Introspective, humble and thankful.

The challenge continues. Adelle came again today, yet another chance to escape. I’m sure some had thoughts but no-one took the plunge. So we’ll all pass the halfway mark, a definite accomplishment for us all.

The group dynamic is still changing. Who knew reef fish would have such a psychological impact and create such a barrier? I think even if the six people that aren’t eating it wanted to, it seems it would be unlikely they’d be given the opportunity.

The spring tide came in and when it went out it exposed two rocks covered in oysters. I was in food heaven long enough to take down half a dozen or so.

Angi and Lisa continue to share their rice – it is definitely a huge factor in helping me through (it’s been two nights in a row) but the guilt is weighing on me. I will opt out today for sure.

I’ve now been asked by pretty much every group member if I’m planning to leave early – it’s turned into almost a high school game. Wondering what value the information has and why everyone wants to know so badly.

Besides, when I know, you’ll be the first to know. It would be easy to leave, but truthfully it would be just as easy to stay. What’s difficult is making the choice that means something to you, that you feel is right and you’re happy with.

Some things though have definitely been on my mind. I have a new-found respect for my body; it’s an amazing machine when you take care of it. On the flip side, starving and abusing it can break it down so quickly. I will never look at a hungry person the same way. The impact of having or not having food is so detrimental to your other successes.

I will always make time for myself, but I won’t forget others. Having a support network is a privilege, maybe the best. I cherish these people and those moments.

Probably the most impactful thing floating around in my mind is: be true to yourself, believe in yourself and don’t sacrifice your self-worth to benefit something or someone. Without you, there’s nothing on offer.

There are many lessons you can learn in life. It’s important to be open to them. I do not agree with others trying to force what they believe is a lesson down your throat. There are those that believe we should all be here for the same reason, and there are those that understand we are different from one another.

Every opportunity isn’t made for everyone. But I firmly believe when you are given one, you will know, open up to it and take it as far as you can.

As I’m writing the now familiar waves are crashing on the beach. It’s beautiful, peaceful, but still daunting in a way. You know you’re so close to everything, just an ocean away.

Status Day 14: Nostalgic, thinking about a number of people in my life. Also feeling a lack in team spirit … well I’m particularly not, I’m game for the team, feeling though it has been dissipating for a few days.

Two weeks. It feels like a lifetime. It’s a challenge now every day to find a reason to stay, but we’ve all managed to continue on. I feel this is a compliment to us all. We’ve made it through what according to some is the toughest part.

As I was writing yesterday I thought of my mom and John, strangely enough just a brief thought of them brought three tears to my eyes. Good tears, the ones that make you smile. Was thinking of the last time I saw them before I left. My mom forever giving advice and being overly cautious (I love you for it) and my stepdad just smiling like he knows you know…

The days seem to get longer and longer. I swear it feels like at least eight full hours of hot, hot sun. I feel like we mostly look forward to nightfall when it cools down and you feel useful again. It’s also the time when I can indulge in a few oysters off the rocks at low tide. Plus a box of tea must have gone overboard somewhere because tea keeps washing up on the beach, so that’s become a regular evening and morning treat.

I’ve started writing some of my cravings down – one for sure is weird for me. Chocolate – and for those that know me, I don’t even like chocolate. Interesting what having nothing will do to you.

As I lay here I feel somewhat trapped in my mind because of being trapped in my body. It’s definitely weaker – every step feels like work and my limbs feel heavier every day. The 50m to the waterfall is tougher every day. My hands have started to periodically go numb, only for a minute or so at a time, but it’s weird.

Because of exhaustion and lack of food we’re made to sit and stay in our own minds. Boredom is setting in at an exponential rate.

Plus already it’s turning into a ‘fend for yourself’ dynamic. Already I see one or two group members heading to the waterfall to fill only their bottles, instead of filling the lot for the group. It’s a little disappointing.

There was also a fairly (not sure what the right word is) childish, I guess, conversation last night about ‘those’ that may leave before 30 days. Words like ‘flake’, ‘failure’, ‘no follow through’ etc were thrown out. I thought for a moment to call out on the judgement. Instead I kept my mind at peace, believing in everyone’s right to make the decision that works best for them, without judgement

Status Day 16: Hungry, hungry and hungry.

Yesterday Jono and I boulder-hopped across the point to the beach on the east side, just for something to do. Nice actually, hard on slowly deteriorating bodies, but great for our spirit.

The island is beautiful if you take a step back, but most of the time it feels like a jail cell; stuck with no real place to go except deep inside your mind.

It’s been a long couple of days. The mornings and evenings are great (cooler) but the daytimes are exhausting and seem to last longer and longer every day. Tons of time to daydream.

Mom, all I’ve been able to think about for two days straight are those breadsticks and cinnamon roles you used to bake when we were kids.

So if you still have these recipes, I want them please!

I’m also dreaming and tasting those cheddar cheese pretzel bites, honestly.

Although I know my body was taking a beating earlier on, I swear I can feel it now in every muscle and cell in my body. I think about what my body is worth, something I didn’t pay attention to before. I will definitely treat you better than before, you deserve it, little body. But only after I thoroughly abuse it with shitty food for at least a week; pizza, burgers, yam fries, chicken wings, popcorn, ice-cream (Jeff, we are so going to Dairy Queen) etc.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day 20
Day 21
Day 22a
Day 22b
Day 25a
Day 25b

If travelling was an Olympic Sport, Maya Blix, 34, would be a gold medal winner. 'Ask and you shall receive' is one of her many mottos, and there is no such thing as taking 'no' for an answer. She loves random facts and is renowned for her Q & A sessions amongst friends.

Currently living in: Oslo, Norway

What's your occupation? I work for the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) - an independent, humanitarian organisation which provides assistance, protection and durable solutions to refugees and internally displaced persons worldwide. I am also a Holistic Nutritional Therapist and work with people who want a healthy body and a healthy mind.

Status: Lizards taste deeeelicious!

Day 3 already – time flies when you’re having fun.

Just a quick recap of last night’s dinner: I ate a lizard. Ok it was just a tiny little bugger, but oh my word did he taste beautiful. I speared him on a stick and roasted him over the fire for about five minutes. Yum. A bit like crispy duck. Well I’m not talking gourmet style here, but food is food.

Oh, Huenu’s just said that a couple of the others have found bananas! That’s really great news because fishing is proving to be quite a challenge.

Later:

OK the bananas. They taste revolting. They’re only tiny little suckers, about 10cm long and 1.5cm wide. We peeled the outer green layer, cut them into small bites and cooked them over the fire for about 10 minutes. They have big, black, crispy seeds inside, and they taste very, very bitter. So, not much to shout out about.

Good news is that Nick caught a fish this afternoon with his throw net. It’s probably one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen – all the colours of the rainbow. We shared him for dinner, and although it was no more than a spoonful each, it was still good.

After dinner we all sat around the fire telling stories, then Huenu and I went to bed pretty early.

We moved our hammocks onto the beach today. Anything that makes for a decent night’s sleep, I’m game. I’d rather be stretched out on the sand than hang off the trees and not get much sleep at all.

I was sooo weak when I got up this morning. I literally got up, felt the worst head rush from low blood sugar, I sat down again and puked. There wasn’t much there, just water, but I felt much better afterwards. Huenu puked too.

The highlight of the day was definitely the rainstorm. It poured heavily for about half an hour, and we found shelter in a cave close to camp. Fresh water was dripping off the walls of the cave, and we found an opening in the roof which provided a natural shower! Beautiful – I had a proper rinse.

I’m very happy to have Huenu on this trip. Not only is she a great friend, we think in the same way. I spoke to Lisa and Joe today about lightening up the atmosphere a bit, and they agreed we have to laugh a bit more.

I think we’re all still trying to find our bearings, and get over the realisation that fish is scarcer than we thought it would be.

Still, I’m missing a bit of camaraderie in the group. We’re all getting along with each other, and doing our daily tasks, but it would be nice if we could laugh more together too.

Hopefully, it will come.

Love you all, Maya.

Status Day 8: Who’s up for a poo next?

Another day in paradise! Ok, I’m just trying to trick my mind. I actually had a decent night’s sleep and now I’ve moved further down on the sandy beach, closer to the water.

I find myself completely immune to any creepy crawlies than might head in my direction, and trust me, that’s a good thing. Spiders, mosquitoes, caterpillars, small and big crabs literally all around us. They don’t bother me at all. I’m walking barefoot all day and night, and I’m still in one piece.

Here’s an interesting statistic: of the 10 of us, two still haven’t gone to the toilet ‘properly’ since we got here, one person has gone twice, and the rest have gone once in the last eight days, most on Day 1.

I had my ‘sacred moment’ on Day 1 and I haven’t ‘waxed lyrical’ since. Being a nutritional therapist it’s quite interesting. I’ll keep you posted. I’ve definitely lost some weight and one of my bikini bottoms is now hanging off my hips. I look like a saggy assed old woman, not pretty.

Xxx

Status Day 9: Slow and steady wins the race.

I’ve had it with the hammock for now and I’m moving out onto the beach. I woke up in the middle of the night of thunder of lightning, and the air was so humid I thought someone had put a wet cloth over my face.

So I grabbed my sarong and my pillow (a ripped old white rice bag washed up from the sea) and moved onto the sand by the water. At least there was a slight breeze there and somehow I slept in 15-minute intervals.

Mosquitoes don’t seem to like me – I have no mozzie bites! I swear it’s the skin of red-headed people… everyone else seems to be covered in insect bites.

I’m feeling very upbeat and positive today, and my spirit for some reason is on a high! We have all agreed to move tomorrow, to another beach with better access to fresh water.

Day 10 tomorrow and still going. One day at a time.

I’ve decided to start a new career as a super model when I get home – London, New York, Milano, here I come. Hip bones are nice and pointy, ribs are starting to show, boobs are disappearing. Think I will go for the heroin look.

I miss my mama’s cooking…

Lots of love to all of you! Maya Bee Xxx

PS: Jono and I are climbing Kilimanjaro together in December. Let me know if anyone wants to join – we can all go and chill in Zanzibar after.

PPS: Dear colleagues at NRC: I am bringing a MASSIVE chocolate mud cake to work on 5 May – prepare yourselves for a food feast! Miss you all!

Status Day 10: Moving day today.

Our new beach seems nicer, with whiter sand and a moving river with COLD fresh water. This alone is very uplifting. I’m pretty low on energy today and I’m still weak. I can only assume that things will remain this way as our food situation is unlikely to change.

Huenu and I have established a routine of boiling three spoons of rice in the morning, half fresh water and half sea water to add some flavour. Other than that, we normally eat about three mouthfuls of fish and a few sips of broth made of a mix of fresh and sea water and a little cayenne pepper/onion salt (that Joe and Kristen brought).

The evening is soon here – so another night and then we’re on to Day 11. Phew!

Lots of love to all you guys back home, xxx Maya.

Two hours later: I just walked to the other end of the beach and I’m completely buggered. I am seriously SO low on energy this afternoon, and it’s only Day 10. I had to give myself a serious talking to. Hoping for a better run tomorrow.

Xxx Maya Bee.

Status Day 12: I’m definitely staying.

The day started at 4 or 5am, when we were all woken by a drizzle that later turned into a proper rainstorm. It was pretty hilarious – we were all trying to wait it out in our hammocks. However Matt built a great fire at base camp – which allowed us to warm up and dry our clothes.

Anyway, I’m all happy now, drying out my stuff, loving the warmth from the sun again. My tummy is even full of fish, so the day has definitely been saved. And it’s only about 11 or 12!

So I have to admit something today. I’m getting slightly tired of listening to people talk about leaving. Although I do agree that there must be room for airing our thoughts and ideas of our time here on the island, I personally am a little disappointed in a couple of my group members when they say that they will consider leaving due to the fact that they are bored, or because they want to have more action-filled days, or because this isn’t what they thought it would be. And so on.

Some say they’d prefer to check out the main island and get to know the locals over there better. I am trying hard to understand these points of view – but I honestly find it difficult. I just don’t see why you have chosen to come on this type of trip if you can’t handle boredom, or lack of activity, or adventure or whatever. I know that each person is in it for their own reasons, something which is becoming clearer day by day.

Other than the obvious challenges (which are the main reasons of me doing this) there are also a couple of ‘practical’ ones which are important to me. One, Huenu has invested almost R200 000 of her own money in order to create this opportunity for all, and two, my work back home. Norwegian Refugee Council has generously given me time off to do this – even though it was a bad time for me to leave.

Just these two reasons alone give me plenty of motivation to stay until the very end, and trust me I will never consider leaving just because I’m bored. There is so much to learn in these 30 days, and I truly think the adventure has just begun. This month is also such a wonderful opportunity to step out of the usual go-go-go lifestyle back home.

I’m definitely staying, and there are only 18 more days to go!

Love you all, Maya xxx

Status Day 13: Just another day

Thank God, a dry night last night. I pretty much slept the whole way through, but felt pretty weak when I woke. But Jono and Saul caught four fish (small) for breakfast. I find it a bit bizarre that only four people in our group of 10 eat fish (Jono, Saul, Huenu and I). The other six either don’t like the thought of eating reef fish, or they don’t enjoy the taste or the texture. I understand that no-one wants to harm these beautiful creatures, but what we are doing is 1) legal, and 2) a ‘must’ as this is a survival trip.

Other than the tiny amounts of fish, I eat only three spoonfuls of rice a day. And as of yesterday I’m also eating oysters.

However selfish it might sound, I’m actually not bothered that so few eat fish – it means more for me!

Ha ha Jono just announced he has done his first number 2 in 13 days. My status still hasn’t changed.

In terms of bonding with my group members, I’ve definitely developed a connection with a few. Being a close friend, Huenu goes without saying and she is becoming dearer every day. She is very inspiring, and we think along the same lines in general. A very special girl indeed.

I’m also having great chats with Joe, Saul and Jono – the three of them are very uplifting, interesting and sweet. Jono makes me laugh a lot, and he is a silly bugger for sure. I think we share the same sense of humour.

Nick is great too, although a little more serious as a person. I like him a lot.

Matt and I have a more superficial bond, although we do share a passion for skiing. We even know some of the same people back home.

Angi, Lisa and Kristen are all great girls, although I feel I’ve yet to reach a deeper connection with all of them. Hopefully that will come soon.

I want to send a special greeting to my family back home to let you know I’m doing great and please do not worry. I promise to put on all the weight I will lose! Love you, Maya.

(continued...)

The work that I do for NRC is actually part of a huge event which take place in Norway on the third Sunday in October every year: ‘TV-AKSJONEN’. On this day the whole of Norway comes together to raise funds for a human aid charity – which this year is NRC. People do all sorts of things to raise money, and there’s a nine-hour TV show that documents people’s efforts.

Schools, big and small companies, sports clubs, individuals – there are no limitations to people’s creativity. To top it up (and it is actually unbelievable!) 10 000 volunteers walk from door to door to two million households in a matter of three hours on that Sunday afternoon. Which means no matter where you live in the country, you will have the opportunity to give money to people who have lost everything they own.

I don’t know of any other country in the world where this happens, and I am proud to be a part of it.

I’m running out of space here, but I’d like to encourage all of you to get involved somehow with this year’s TV-AKSJONEN. So save the date for Sunday 27 October, and please contact us if you or anyone you know wants to contribute, it means a lot.

So, as nothing exciting has happened today, this is what you’ll get from me.

I hope it will inspire you.

Big hugs and kisses to the most incredible colleagues in the world!

Love Maya, xxx

Day 25: Life is good!

Today is a milestone day of L2TL as we have made it to day 25. It is in the middle of the night when I am writing this, probably around 4 o’clock, and I’m sitting underneath a star-lit sky with only my headlamp to light up these pages. The reason I can’t sleep is because I am so incredibly excited, and let me tell you why. Last night, after having completed bullet-point 71 on my favourite foods list, Huenu and I laid on the sand, chatting about things we love about life in Oslo and Cape Town. The day had been incredibly long, and we were both thinking desperately of positive things we could focus on for the next day. ‘I think I will write down everything I do on Christmas Day, from A to Z,’ I said. ‘And also what my future husband is like, in detail. ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Huenu replied, as she had just written 96 points on her ‘Why I love Cape Town’ list. We sat for a long time in silence, which we do most of our days here, mainly due to the fact that we are so tired and weak and feel at least 100 years old. ‘Why don’t we just go home, Maya?’ I looked up at Huenu and I honestly couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘Are you kidding me?’ I replied, and I honestly thought she was just having a laugh. She stared at me, point blank and said ‘I’m not joking. Seriously, what more is there to learn at this point after 25 days, and why do we insist on staying until the very end when we are both suffering like we are?’ She ended her round of questions with a simple, ‘What makes you want to stay at this point?’

I actually had to think for a few seconds before I replied that I have decided to stay until the end, and that I normally do the things I say I will do. At this point, no other reasons came to mind, as I feel like I’ve already learned a million lessons in the last 25 days – lessons which I will most likely carry with me for the rest of my life.

‘Well, then let’s talk about it, Maya, let’s find out what is really keeping us here.’ A seed had been sown and there was no going back. Long story short – and you are going to love this – I have an ego. Ok, so we all have an ego to some degree, but it’s something I have been trying to rid myself of for a couple of years. Eckhart Tolle can tell you all about egos and how they play with human nature, as well as how tempting it is to get attached to them. Even though I say that I am doing this trip for myself only, I know deep down that there is some level of satisfaction by telling the world around me that ‘I can do this’. And that, apparently, is what is keeping me on this island at the moment.

I could write the rest of the conversation in detail, but I think you all know what is coming...

Huenu and I have decided to leave this beautiful island after 25 days of what has been the most amazing experience on so many levels. I have been thinking long and hard about my decision, and I have come to the conclusion that perhaps the biggest lesson of all in the last month is to detach myself from my ego and tell myself that what I have achieved is great and to be happy with just that. We all know it’s been one hell of a 25 days, with minimum amounts of food. Actually, minimum amounts of just about everything. I am very thankful for this experience, and life as I know it will never be the same. Somehow, I came into this month bringing very little with me and I come out much richer than I could ever have imagined. And that, my friends, is absolutely priceless.

Adelle will be here in a few hours to pick us up, and I feel like a child does the night before Christmas. I haven’t been this happy in a long time as I know that food and rest await. Thank you for all your support along the way and I will promise to donate 100% of your contributions to my charity.

Keep shining you wonderful people – I really can’t wait to connect with you again.

All my love, Maya xxx

PS. One more thing… the L2TL adventures don’t stop here. Huenu and I have already planned another trip for the end of this year, and trust me – it will be as mad as this one, although in a completely different way. So, watch this space…

Status: The adventure has begun …

Ok, so our first day has passed, and I am very happy to say we have passed the test with flying colours. The first thing we did once we arrived was to scout out what will be our home for the next 30 days.

We arrived with the high tide so the beach looked very small, but as the hours passed by our playground continued to grow. It didn’t take long before we found a perfect ‘bedroom’ in our new ‘house’.

There is this beautifully shaded area at the right end of the beach, and this is where we decided to hang our hammocks. By the way, these hammocks are genius. We were very lucky to be sponsored by a company in North America, Hennesy, and they allow us to travel light as well as protect us from mosquitoes. And, I must admit, they are comfortable – which is a massive bonus.

After we had found a place for our shelter, we continued on to the next important task: water. There is a fresh-water river on the island, and with a water filtration pump, we will have plenty of water to drink.

Dehydration is a major concern, and we need to drink up to six litres of water per day. In addition, we need water to clean things with, as well as maintain a decent level of hygiene. It takes about a minute to filter one litre of water, which means we will spend about 100 minutes pumping each day.

The rest of the afternoon we all worked like busy ants. I’m very impressed by the fact that we all got our heads into small jobs once we had established shelter and water.

Some repaired an old fish trap we found, while others collected rubbish and cleared what is our common area, or ‘lounge’, if you like. As much as all the rubbish on the beach makes me sad, I still see it as a huge bonus, as we can use it in more ways than a hundred.

So far we have found lots and lots of plastic bottles – probably close to 50 or 60 – a few plastic baskets, old fish nets, a broken plastic chair, about 20 flip-flops (unfortunately they don’t come in pairs!), lots of rope (very helpful) and a few coconuts washed up on the shore. I even found a head of garlic, which we’ve already used to flavour our food.

The after-dark hours were spent gathered around our new fire pit – cooking a few crabs that we managed to catch during the day. I must admit I felt quite hungry when I went to bed, especially since my last meal at the resort in the morning was only three pancakes with jam and syrup. But, come on, I knew I would get hungry … In other words, everything is going according to plan.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow – who knows what the day will bring. Being hungry, I feel bad when I think of how much food goes to waste at home.

Mental note: must stop wasting food …

Lots of love to all of you, xxx

Status: Hasta la pasta, amigos

Sleeping on the beach is better, even though I was wrapped in a damp sarong with a mosquito buzzing in my ear. My pillow is a piece of Styrofoam, so I’m quite comfy. I’m learning to conserve my energy when the sun is at its strongest – I do my chores in the afternoon.

So far today I’ve had two spoonfuls of cooked rice, four tiny pieces of coconut fat, one spoonful of fish, which Matt caught this morning, and that’s it. Energy levels are pretty low and I get exhausted from very little activity. But we need food, and everyone must pitch in.

This afternoon Joe, Kristen, Huenu and I went ‘hunting’ for palm hearts. Joe did a food-test yesterday and they seem ok to eat. They’re tiny sections of semi-soft, fibrous plant material with a sweetish flavour. Nothing super exciting, but they will have to do for now.

Nick also caught a 20cm long lizard, which will be dinner tonight, yum, I honestly can’t wait! Lizards taste delicious, who would have thought?

I’ve decided to take one day at a time. If I start thinking of how many more days we have left, I might get a little overwhelmed. I’ve chosen to come on this adventure purely for myself, and I don’t feel any pressure or expectations from anyone at all. I still believe I will be able to see the end of this trip. I know I’m not one of the strongest, but I have a fairly strong mind… time will tell.

I am already so thankful for living such a privileged life – I have an amazing mom, dad and sister, and wonderful friends spread out all over the world, the best job with the funniest colleagues of all … and I’m generally very healthy and happy! I really look forward to appreciating my everyday life back home on a new level.

So far we’re doing really well as a team – no dramas or disagreements at all – and there’s a nice, peaceful vibe in the group. I was thinking of one of my favourite poems today – The Invitation, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. I really recommend it if you haven’t read it. I wish I had it here with me.

Another thing I wish I had here with me now is a big FAT muffin. Do me a favour, friends: enjoy your food.

Hasta la pasta amigos, got to go and have some lizard for supper.

Love, Maya.

Status: Day 6: My body is starting to accept.

The night was dreadful, as I was sleeping in a damp shirt the whole night, head resting on an even damper and stinky sarong. Anyway, new day, new opportunities and I actually feel quite good.

I think my body is starting to accept the low intake of food, and I feel much better than I did on days 3 and 4. We know it’s not good for our heads to talk about food, but it’s impossible not to. The image, taste and smell of a big fat bran muffin with lots of seeds, nuts and lots of butter, keeps reappearing in my mind. That and gorgeous pancakes with choc sauce, coke (funnily enough, I haven’t drunk it in five and a half years!), pizza and a million other beautiful types of food. I will indulge when I have the chance.

Today I have gutted 14 fish, mostly tiny, cooked them in a broth and fed the gang. It might not sound like a big deal, but when you’re in 35-degree heat, in the sand, next to a smoky, hot fire, without much food in your stomach for the last six days … it’s tiresome.

But, it tasted good, and thank you so much to Saul and Jono for catching them.

A very hot day, so much spent resting with the rest of the crew. Kristen and I did a water run, and I’ve been filtering this afternoon.

There are all sorts of activities going on – collecting firewood, fishing, constructing using bamboo and palm leaves, collecting rubbish.

We’re on to Day 7 tomorrow and admittedly 30 days seems like a veeeery long time. I honestly think we’re a bit mad for doing it for this long, particularly when survivor ‘experts’ like Les Stroud and Bear Grylls normally go out for max seven days. Sooo … 30 days… geez. Still, fishing good though, and the boys just came back with 11 more fish!

Love Maya

Angi found a bottle of rum yesterday, washed up on the beach! Only about 1/5 left in it, but we passed it around the campfire in the evening and … oh it was beautiful! It’s amazing, the things we find on this beach.

Status Day 11: I’m full of beans and feel great!

Feeling much better today. Last night Joe the legend treated us all to a pot of hot chocolate. It must have been the funniest sight, watching 10 adults sit around the fire, passing the pot, counting each spoonful of that gorgeous drink. We made it to 13 mouthfuls each! I also had a fabulous sleep on the beach.

I agree with Huenu that the mood of the group was pretty sombre yesterday, but hey, we will have those days and they’re part of the experience.

I personally haven’t felt down since I got here, but definitely weak. I guess those two can be mistaken.

I’ve drawn a nice calendar this morning so I can cross off each day, and I think seeing our progress on paper will motivate me.

This is definitely a very tough challenge, but I’ve had harder times in my life so far, so still going ‘strong’.

Accepting boredom and that time moves slowly is a big part of this trip – but I will try and think of it as a luxurious opportunity to delve into ideas, plans and exciting goals for the future.

I’ve actually written a shopping list for my summer in Vancouver – yes I know – but these are some of the things you do with time on your hands.

Chocolate-covered goji beans here I come!

Hasta lasagne, Maya xxx

Status Day 14: Time for a little pep talk.

Tomorrow we reach the halfway mark. I consider this a major accomplishment and we all deserve a pat on the shoulder. Not only have we come this far by feeding ourselves from the few resources of this island, but we’ve come all this way without any conflict or drama among the group members. I think that in itself deserves applause.

Everything is moving very slowly. I waded upriver to the waterfall and filled up my water bottle, and now I’m having a little rest.

Later: Sooo tired today, and Huenu is very weak too. Well, everyone is! I’m trying to dip my head in the river as often as I can in order to stay clear in my head.

Huenu is having a rough day today so I just gave her a little pep talk that we are doing this together, and we will make it!

I even told her about the ‘wonderful’ compliment Angi gave me yesterday morning: ‘Oh Maya, look at your big kneecaps – what a shame’ – and we both burst into laughter. Yes a little bit of self irony goes a long way, and there’s plenty to laugh about.

Ok so the afternoon is over and it’s been filled with great chats with Huenu, Jono and myself. It’s a tough ride, this island trip, but I’ll look back at it with a smile on my face.

I miss all of you wonderful people back home and around the world, I really can’t wait to see you again.

Lots and lots of love from Maya Bee xxx

Status Day 15: Perspective is a wonderful thing.

Today is another milestone – half way. As of tomorrow we’re on a downhill slope and the countdown towards 30 days has begun. I’m very motivated today and 100% certain I can do this thing. I have my moments, but I try and pull myself together and focus on the outcome of this trip.

I was thinking of people to draw inspiration from on my weak days, and I immediately thought of these.

1. My friend Karina Hollekim, a former pro base jumper who had a terrible base jump accident in September 2006. Doctors told her she would probably never walk again, let alone ski. She has worked her butt off these years, proving everyone wrong. In February this year she was back on skis.

2. Nelson Mandela, probably the person I admire most in the whole world. Imagine sitting in a prison for 27 years, experiencing physical and psychological abuse daily, and then he’s released and carries on as one of the most honourable people alive.

3. The millions of people who live in complete poverty. It’s a disgrace that the world is separated into such incredible wealth and terrible poverty.

Although this month feels hard on so many levels, it is still nothing compared to what many people experience every day. I know that chocolate banana pancakes are 15 days around the corner, plus a million other wonderful things. It’s all good.

Keep shining, Maya Bee xxx

Status Day 16: Special greetings to my family

I’m having a great day so far. My body feels very strong today, which is a nice change from the usual tiresome days. Nothing revolutionary has happened since yesterday, so today I’m sending a special greeting to my family.

Huenu and I were chatting last night, and she said: ‘Maya, what you have in Norway is gold.’ And she’s right. I’m truly blessed with the best mom and dad in the world, and with my sister and husband and their two kids, Silje and Benjamin. We’re a close knit gang of people and we have a lot of fun together.

I grew up in a home with a constant stream of people coming and going. Slightly chaotic at times, but so much laughter in the house, which I love.

I look forward to a massive dinner party with my family and friends!

I’m thinking of you and love you, Maya xxx

Status Day 17: Some bodily observations

Happy Birthday to Stu Wild on the 21^st of April – I hope you have a wicked day and please eat some cake for me. Today I will talk a little bit about my body and some of the physical changes that I’m experiencing. For once, I’ve lost some weight. I was 59kg on the day of departure and I’m guessing that I’ve lost 4 to 5kg so far. I’m a 100% certain that I am in a state of ketosis, which means that my glycogen storages are completely empty, and my body is only burning fat and muscle for fuel. One typical symptom is a metallic taste in my mouth and I can also feel the loss of muscle. I am genuinely feeling weak, especially in my legs. I’ve got some incredible cravings for food, which of course is because I’m very hungry, 99% of the time. One thing which is remarkable is that my tense neck has completely healed. I’ve seen a physio since October last year with very little progress – and voila! – two weeks on this island and I’m 100% well.

Otherwise, I’ve gone 17 days since number two and I’m actually wondering if it will happen at all? J. Mentally, I’m staying calm and level headed, and I still take one day at a time. So, that’s the news for today! I’ve been told to keep the blog short and sweet but I still think of you lots and miss you heaps. Lots of love, Maya Bee. xxx

Status: No doubt the BEST DAY SO FAR!

Happy birthday to my fellow islander Nick!!!! 26 years young, and I am so happy that we all got to share this moment together on this beautiful day. It is turning out to be a BIG DAY on many levels. It is, as I mentioned Nick’s birthday, but today is also different, as five people have ‘lived life to the limit’ and have left the island. Yes, Lisa, Angi, Kris, Jono and Matt left half an hour ago, and they are all looking forward to food, hot showers and some rest on the main island.

We had a fantastic celebration of Nick’s birthday just before they left with a display of b-day surprises for the b-day boy; FOOD!!! Yes, Adelle did as she was asked and brought a beautiful chocolate cake, pancakes with tuna, cheese and tomatoes, and everyone had an extra treat in addition to that. You should have seen our faces when we bit into that cake… I cannot even describe the feeling. We have gone 19 days with very little food, and all of a sudden there is an explosion of flavours in our mouths. I promise that I will NEVER FORGET this moment for as long as I live, and I must be one of the happiest people alive right now.

Thank you so much to all of the departing group members who decided to leave part of their treats – you know what it means to those of us who are staying. So, right now I am feeling truly blessed and thankful for today.

I am so glad, and maybe even a little proud, to have made the decision to stay. I keep telling myself ‘short-term pain, long-term pleasure’ and I find that it helps a lot, thanks Adelle.

The five of us who are staying immediately sat down to discuss group tasks now that so many have left and everyone is 100% ready for the change. I will continue gutting, scaling and cooking the fish, as well as doing the dishes for everyone each day, and I am very happy with that indeed. So, another day in paradise, and let’s bring on the remainder of this trip. I’m all game….lots of love Maya B xxx

Day 20: Another milestone – Day 20!

It’s Day 20 – finally – and dare I say that we have passed another milestone. It feels wonderful to know that I have only a third of this trip left, and although I don’t want to wish time away, I must admit that getting closer to home makes me more than thrilled.

In fact, the thought makes me want to jump with joy.

You might think that axing the group in half yesterday would have made the rest of the group scarred. However, the truth is that I find the vibe as nice, if not nicer. There is no more talk about who is leaving, when and so on, and there is a more peaceful atmosphere, with less speculation. I actually prefer it. Now it is just a matter of sticking to our routine and to enjoy the last 10-11 days as much as we can.

I will never have this much free time again in my life, and I must really value this for what it’s worth.

So, not much happening so far today other than the fact that it rained the whole morning. I sat underneath our palm leaf shelter wishing the rain away. The sun is now out, and the rest is history. It’s another good day….I can’t wait to see you all in a couple of weeks. Lots of love Maya xxxx

Day 21: I am having a tired day

I am feeling very tired today. My body feels weaker than the previous days. I was wide awake in the middle of the night – probably for at least three to four hours and my mind was racing.

It was a gorgeous, clear night, though, and I kept looking to the stars while listening to all the weird noises that we are so used to now.

Yesterday evening, just as we had gone to bed, Huenu and I could hear the terrifying screams from some of the rats that come out after dark. I swear one of them was being eaten alive as it kept on screaming for minutes. It sounded horrible. Then there are the noises of the gazillion bugs, some of them reminding me of a water sprinkler. Then there are also monkeys shouting in the trees, and the sound of crabs and other small critters that move over dry leaves. And, of course, mosquitoes. Yes, there is never a dull moment on this island, unless you want there to be.

When I woke up this morning, I discovered that I had rolled around with my hair in the Velcro part of my hammock and it took me a good 10 minutes to untangle it all. I could have just ripped my hair and kept a nice bird’s nest at the back, but I figured I have a job to go back to in two weeks and I don’t need to look any worse than I already do. Yes, I’m getting fairly bony and it’s not looking pretty. Anyway, I didn’t come on this island to look like a doll, did I?

Zzzzzz…. I’m so tired and I hope you will excuse me – I need a nap. I promise to come back with much more energy tomorrow. I want to talk about something that means a lot to me then: my job at Norwegian Refugee Council. Until then, friends and family – stay cool – I miss you all. Maya xxx

Day 22: Norwegian Refugee Council

Haaallelujah!! It’s a miracle. I’ve finally done a number two. Sorry for the level of personal information, but you know, it’s quite a revolutionary experience. I’ll leave it at that.

So I said yesterday that I wanted to tell you a bit about the organisation that I work for back in Oslo: Norwegian Refugee Council, www.nrc.no, is an international human aid organisation with its head quarters in Oslo.

The aid focuses on refugees and internationally displaced people, of which there are roughly 45 million worldwide. Why are all these people on the run, away from life as they know it? Because of war and conflict. Sadly. The various NRC programmes focus on five core activities: refugee camp management, distribution of emergency supplies, legal help/advice, education, and construction of new homes.

I strongly recommend that you read more about NRC on our web page, as it’s a truly great organisation that does fantastic work around the world. (continued...)

Day 18 status: Feeling a bit strange.

Hey all, it’s Day 18 and I’ve had a dreadful sleep. It started raining as soon as I put my head on my pillow last night, so it’s been a damp, wet and cold night on the sand. I’m feeling a little strange today, mostly because a few people will be leaving tomorrow. Jono has hurt his back, Lisa and Angi are starting to feel unwell, and Matt is 50/50 about leaving. I’m not sure what Kristen will do at this point, but considering that she doesn’t eat the fish, there might be a chance that she leaves too.

Anyway, there is no point in speculating, and whatever happens that will be fine. I’m still staying the full 30 days, period.

Nothing has changed there. As I’ve stated before, this trip isn’t about bravado or anything like that for me. I simply want to see this thing through as I said I would and take with me as many life lessons as possible. I am far from reaching my limitations, and I know that I can complete this month.

I have finally managed to get over my food cravings, which have been (pardon my French here) a complete head fuck for some time. Now I simply remove myself from conversations that revolve around food, or just ask people not to talk about it. So that’s my day so far. I think I will do some writing today, as I find it quite soothing for the mind and the soul. I miss you all tremendously. Lots of love and kisses Maya. Xxx

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day 20
Day 21a
Day 22
Day 25

Status: First day at school

It feels like the first day at a new school. No matter how much preparation you’ve done, how many books you’ve read or professors you’ve chatted to, the first step is always accompanied by the overwhelming question: where do I start?

Thankfully, not everyone is as dumbstruck as I feel. Half the group dashes off enthusiastically to explore and the rest of us follow. The tide is high, and walking along the beach proves difficult. A treasure hunt ensues – firewood and plastic bottles are the main prize and available in abundance.

Our base camp is decided by the water source – a swampy river that quickly narrows and bends into the jungle.

Base camp is a shaded section of the beach with several mid-size rocks and larger boulders that act as chairs, tables, shelves and a food preparation area.

The temporary sleeping quarters are further down the beach. Hammocks are strewn between the boughs of a mangrove that sprawls onto the beach. The branches are thick and bow into the sand, as though the mangrove is desperately reaching for the ocean. A thick layer of leaves covers the sand.

The noise of the ocean is loud at first, but recedes with every step you take into the thickness of the jungle.

Have I found the first day difficult? Yes. The goal, of course, is simple: survive – but the most efficient way of doing it is something we’re all still discovering.

We know there are fish to be caught, but haven’t decided whether a hand line, net or fish trap is the most efficient way. We know there are plants to be eaten, but how to find them still eludes us.

I realised quite quickly that much of my uncertainty stemmed from a lack of routine. Routine is a lot easier when all the variables are accounted for. Once I realised this, I tasked myself with controlling any variables within my power.

My kit was scattered between the two campsite, forcing me to walk back and forth, expending valuable energy. So I divided my gear into that which can stay by my hammock, and what I need with me all the time. Now medicine, contact lenses, toothbrush and reading material (Bible, letters from loved ones) lie next to my hammock in a plastic ice-cream tub to protect it from rain. My Leatherman, LED Lenser headlamp and suntan lotion are in a bag I’ve fashioned out of the 5-litre dry bag and a belt – a ‘man bag’ you might say.

My water bottle is now also on a sling so I can carry it easily and tell it apart from the others.

Projects like this take time and are rewarding, both in the utility of the tool you create, and in the pride that completing the task brings.

Status: Day 6: Nick is a lion with a bedraggled mane, empty stomach and sore paws.

It’s nearly impossible to stay hydrated. My urine is consistently amber and no amount of drinking seems to change it. Joe, our awesome doctor, has been storing his pee in the plastic bottles that wash ashore daily, in order to ‘keep an eye on his hydration levels’, but perhaps it’s just a twisted fetish? Either way, our campsite is littered with proof of Joe’s deposits, ranging from relatively clear to burnished gold.

I cooked a double spoonful of rice for breakfast after struggling through lighting a fire. It rains once a day and our tinder is often wet. We’ve taken to storing wood in a nearby rocky alcove in anticipation of the regular downpour.

No-one seems to be fighting. No-one appears to be romancing. Energy is needed for both activities and that is the least available resource.

Status Day 9: Nick has lost his boep. If you see it please send it back to its owner.

One of the first proofs of insanity that many colleagues/friends cited when hearing about this challenge was ‘bugs’. The tropics are known for many things, including ghastly diseases and plagues of insects. And many believe the former to be spread by the latter.

Although it looks as though someone has taken a small cigarette to a large area of my body, the bugs have not been intolerable. During the day they are docile. Alright, one has to be cautious. Here’s how I’m dealing with the problem.

Cover up: When night falls, I attach the pant legs to my K-Way trousers – creating full-length protection. I also roll down my long sleeves.

The cherry on top, however, is the custom-designed anti-mozzie hood that attaches to my collar, protecting my face and neck. When Life to the Limit accepted me to join the challenge, I approached the K-Way team (in Ottery, Cape Town) for assistance in creating a garment. I’ve never seen a brand more enthusiastic to help. Prototypes and first samples were quickly mocked up and just as quickly rejected – ‘We can design something better.’

The finished product attaches perfectly to my collar and has been excellent in warding off mozzies and insects. Thanks K-Way.

Protect exposed skin: tabard, the South African classic, has kept me covered.

Repair: An interesting device affectionately referred to as the ‘bite zapper’ uses Piezo ignition to neutralise whatever it is that makes bites so itchy. Available at Cape Union Mart.

Now I must go. I need to batten up the hatches, something ‘wicked this way comes’ and it brings with it threats of a damp hammock and a sleepless night.

Status Day 10: Nick is a broken man in a new home.

Today we moved beaches. Three of the more enthusiastic members of our small team of 10 discovered a cove with fresh water, just several kilometres from our original home. The thought of drinking water without the sickly taste of salt made the decision a unanimous one.

The general shift in attitudes is illustrated by our arrival at the new beach. Instead of identifying a base camp, as we did on Day 1, the survivors span out across the beach, looking for the best spot to hang a hammock. Once personal affairs have been attended to, group matters are discussed.

Survivors settle along the beach according to the cliques that have formed, and attitudes towards isolation. I make my bed near camp to save as much energy as possible.

Status Day 12: Nick loves rice like a fat kid loves cookies.

It’s a lot easier to care about others when you’ve a belly full of food. As our collective energy levels gradually wane, group tasks like collecting firewood and water become decreasingly popular. Survival instinct seems to be kicking in – self first, group later.

I’m not surprised really – most of us barely have enough fuel to look after ourselves, let alone nine others. If Life 2 the Limit is anything to go by, then conscientiousness is more a function of a satisfied stomach than it is an indelible character trait. :) It’s all one can do not to hermit oneself into a corner and rice out the last 18 days.

I’ve built a small shelter out of palm fronds and rope to ward off the increasing threat of rain. I feel accomplished, like I might be worthy of tying the laces on Bear Gryll’s mountain-stomping boots.

Status Day 14: Nick has an awesome day but wishes fervently that there were coconut trees and coconuts.

Day 14 was a goodie. I woke late and discovered that Joe had made a fire and was already cooking our breakfast. I considered waking late more often, but quickly banished the thought.

The morning meal was an extravagant affair with both rice AND a quarter cube of chicken stock on the menu. I’m struggling to finish my four tablespoons of rice, which means my stomach has shrunk to the size of a walnut. My appetite has always been of hippopotamus capacity, so my current diet of rice and a cupful of nothing is proving quite a change. I’m even beginning to fantasise about aeroplane food.

I spent the better part of a scorching day upriver, where it’s at least five to seven degrees cooler. I washed myself in a way characteristic of a cost-price shampoo advert, with a touch of Jacques Kallis in that Sanex commercial thrown in.

After my ablutions I spent a thoroughly enjoyable two hours perched on a mossy rock, with a Buff for a bum rest, writing, reading the Bible and attempting a crossword devised by the minds at Femina magazine. My brain has definitely slowed down – it took me about 30 minutes to remember that the ‘actress something Paltrow’ was Gwyneth.

The afternoon was spent at Saul’s mansion, a mangrove abode with more amenities that you’d think possible for a man with nothing but a Leatherman and a practical attitude towards flotsam.

My dreams are ones of home and food and home-cooked food and the family and friends with whom I’d share all three.

Status Day 16: Nick remembers that this is not Butterworth, and that it is not as hot as Latin America.

Things are slowing down – our movements, the days, our speech. It’s as though everything on the island is in slow motion. It takes about five minutes to walk 100 metres. Smiles are fast disappearing, even that takes energy. I’ve seen Lisa for 10 minutes in the last 24 hours – something one would think impossible on a football field-sized beach.

I try to remember that time passes and that’s its job and it will continue doing it unerringly until the minute I step off this beach onto my ride to the neighbouring island, or paradise, depending on your state of hunger.

Day 17 status: Nick talks of fish and hand’s-free illumination.

I went fishing with Saul this morning and it devastated me. Fishing involves waking at first light, walking about 100m though ankle-deep, tricky coral-studded sea bed, and then swimming beyond the reef.

Once there, we implement a simple stick, sea urchin and net system to catch as many of the slippery beasts as possible. We chum areas with a sandy floor, although the waves which buffet you back and forth make it nearly impossible for one to float in place. More energy is required and one becomes quickly infuriated with the ocean, Neptune, Mother Nature, and whoever else might be behind this breakfast-prolonging impediment.

As tiring as it is, it is also an unbeatable way to start the day. As the sun breaks the tree line the ocean becomes a glittering mass, and you feel like you’re bobbing on a mirror. Beneath the surface it’s equally attractive – rainbow-printed reef fish flash urgently from rock to rock: morning traffic perhaps.

In these moments there is not a man in the world with whom I’d trade places, but it still uses energy I don’t have.

It rains in the night and I am prepared, or so I think. As the first drops hit I’m already trussing up my hammock, guided by my trusty LED Lenser headlamp, which has the capacity to be a soft or spot light at the twist of a switch. In short, it’s radical.

For the first time since arriving on the island I break into something more than an amble, trotting across the thick beach sand to the shelter I built a few days prior. I arrive as the thickest drops start plummeting earthwards, only to discover that someone else is already huddled in the prime spot of the diminutive shelter. Resisting the urge to rip off a lengthy string of choice expletives, and reminding myself that sharing is apparently caring, I hunker down into the little space left available.

It is no use – my lengthy frame sticks out from beneath the palm fronds enough to receive a partial soaking. With a last dark thought, I accept the docile takeover of my Bear Grylls imitation emergency hut and exit into the rain.

Matt ‘man of fire’ Atkinson is attempting to revive our camp fire. I’d normally find such attempts laughable, but Matt has a pyromaniac streak and sure as nuts gets a healthy blaze going. Imagine a middle-aged man in nothing but a plastic bag and a pair of ragged boxer shorts hopping around an unenthusiastic flame with a bunch of twigs in each hand. A type of island-survivor Morris dance perhaps.

Mosquitoes use me as a dart board. Going to bed damp and itchy is almost as much fun as waking up in the same condition and today I experienced both.

Status: In which Nick turns 26 and has the most amazing time.

The 19^th of April was the most eventful island day yet. For a start, it was my birthday – a celebration I assumed would be overshadowed by the departure of half our group. Yes, you read correctly – five survivors have gone.

Does this mean they’ve survived worse? Or made a better survival decision? I’m still trying to figure it out, but when I think of them drinking cocktails and supping on something better than rice and fish I get the distinct feeling that I’m the chump.

Like I said, it is my birthday, I’m not big on birthdays at the best of times, and certainly didn’t expect to receive any gifts, considering the nearest store is an hour boat ride from our beach.

But I was wrong.

I’d barely fallen out of my hammock when the first present was shoved into my hands, beautifully wrapped in a ragged plastic sack. It was not, as expected, a rock in a bag, but – wait for it – a HANDCRAFTED CHECKERS/CHESS BOARD with two sets of wooden pieces, nogal, and a storage area.

Joe, or doctor, has outdone himself and set an unbeatably high precedent for the other survivors. He and I have been battling it out nightly on a makeshift board, and he overheard how I was looking forward to taking that same makeshift board back to South Africa. In his kindness, he fashioned me a considerable upgrade.

Other presents included a half finished fertility statuette (thanks Matt), coral and coconut hanging decoration, packet of jelly beans and ‘happy birthday’ sung in Norwegian.

Just when I was beginning to feel completely overwhelmed, the grand finale arrived and pushed me into speechlessness – a chocolate birthday cake.

A starving man and a chocolate cake need little introducing. On top of the cake came a Coke, a packet of biscuits, and a tuna-cheese pancake. Heavenly manna indeed, although cunningly organised by Life 2 the Limit.

An incredible feast ensued, one that I cannot describe in great detail, for it is two days later and it would be thoroughly unwise for me to remind my stomach of the rapture it received. It might just rebel and drag me home.

If happiness is the difference between reality and expectation then I might have just been the happiest man in all of Asia.

Day 21: In which Nick boasts of his friends.

Over the last 21 days I have been slowly reading over motivational notes from my friends. They’ve been an incredible boost in some of the most difficult times. I’ve paid tribute to the best of them in summarised points below. Some are humorous, some cryptic.

This island is not a Leon Schuster film, but still features large stretches of monotony.
‘Peggles’ stories make for a great humour boost and my appreciation for my Mom’s jam squares has sky-rocketed.
I’m a ‘man on a horse’, brick-layer, Spaniard, guest-speaker at Man of the Year 2010 and a stunt-dawg.
I’m making like DeFoe’s Crusoe and owning this island.
Winston won’t be getting my Leatherman after the repeat of a very inappropriate comment.
If Albany loaves don’t fall from the sky, WWBD? (what would Bear do?)
Cousin Steve needs keeping in line.
‘Who dares wins’.
Other survivors, like digsmates, do not appreciate naked Pilates (as invented by Miss de Wit).
The only guts and chutzpah I’ve got are the ones I’ve eaten.
‘When you feel like swakking out, harden the expletive up’ – a special message from an Asian friend.
Len won’t be coming on any such island adventures unless MH7 is involved, Tree has Needs, Pietie is profound and Spearman is inappropriate.
Bear Grylls is always watching.
Sloths write incredibly well.
Psalm 121, 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, Psalm 62:1, Acts 17.
I have tried to be patient in affliction but am getting hungrier by the day!
Every Thursday has been an experimental one.
I should have made space in my five-litre bag for a TV to watch to IPL.
The expeditioners taught me everything I need to survive this island.
If I get fed up, at least I can swim to mainland Asia and stay with Dark Horse’s family.
Someone will be baking 30-odd blueberry muffins.

I miss you friends, family and Diné.

Day 25: Home

It is sweet to be leaving. Big thanks to Cape Union Mart for their invaluable support and K-Way for the time and effort they put into custom-designing my technical clothing, which I’ve worn solidly for 3 ½ weeks (and washed four times).

Special thanks to Adidas for their superb eyewear (seriously, one of the best things I have), Olympus for the uTough 8000 camera, which delivered despite taking a massive beating, Leatherman for probably the most useful multi tool available, LED Lenser for my headlamp and Tyvet, for my expedition journal.

I must also mention Mike Horn for his invaluable (and hilarious) advice. If you don’t know who this guy is, Google him. He’s a hardcore explorer of South African origin doing incredible things for the environment through the Pangaea Young Explorers Programme (www.yep.com).

Thanks to friends and family for your support. Feed me hugs and cookies on my return.

Also check out AXIUM Education and the sterling work they’re doing in our country. They have been my charity of choice.

Peace.

Nick, 25, is an aspiring mountain bum from Cape Town. As the youngest member on the island, he's looking forward to bringing a youthful perspective to the team, and learning how to interact with nine other hungry, tired and sunburned survivors.

Currently living in : Cape Town, South Africa

What's your occupation? I work for an outdoor adventure company called Cape Union Mart. Amongst other things, I review gear and deliver presentations on how to climb Kilimanjaro.

Status: Is this managed starvation?

We’ve realised our food sources are slowly being depleted. The river, which is more like a marsh, isn’t big enough to sustain more than a handful of fish, and we’ve already nabbed quite a few. The ones that we’ve caught are morose beasts, and turn the stomach just to look at them.

The ocean appears to have been fished dry. There are several multi-coloured reef fish, which are beautiful to look at but apparently not often edible. The most exquisite fish I have ever seen was a little too inquisitive and became entangled in my net. After much debate over the ethics of cooking such an exquisite creature, hunger won out and my catch was gutted, beheaded and scraped clean of its rainbow scales.

Walking just 10 minutes along the beach and you realise the disgusting state our beach is in. Although humans step on this island only half a dozen times a year, we’ve still managed to leave filthy imprints. Polystyrene, empty plastic bottles and a ‘flotsam of flip-flops’ (said Saul) are strewn from the tide line right into the jungle. It’s not uncommon to find a plastic bag or a buoy while clambering through the jungle, 80m from the sea.

The reef is patchy at best and clearly scarred from the dynamite fishing that was common in this area. At night the horizon glows as fishermen comb the water for squid, with the rumble of the generators needed to keep the lights going sounding like distant thunder.

My clothes, although filthy, are my ally against the oppressive heat. The K-Way shirt and zip-off pants are made of moisture-wicking material that moves sweat and moisture away from the skin, keeping me dry and comfortable. It’s lightweight, airy and I wear it 24/7.

I have a feeling this island jaunt is fast becoming an exercise in managed starvation, as opposed to proactive survival.

I love and miss you mom, dad, sister and Diné.

Status: Nick is dreading another sip of the lukewarm bag-water.

Our water situation is far from ideal. Our source is a murky, permanently lukewarm bog inhabited by mosquitoes, luminous green algae and fish that only Gollum would eat.

We are eating the fish.

Every day two of us draw water from the bog, pump it through the MSR water filter and store it in the two six-litre reservoirs we brought. The water is barely stomachable. Each sip is salty, with a strong aftertaste of nausea. To write about it makes me feel ill.

As a potential remedy to the water situation, yesterday Matt, Angi and I explored up river. After a half-hour struggle through waist-deep water, we came to a tangle of vines and broken branches, so thick that hacking and crawling were the only viable ways through. Neither Matt nor I were particularly game, but Angi – who is turning out to be something of a bionic woman – suggested we push 20 metres further. Our 20-metre slog was rewarded with the river bed opening into a road-sized walkway that meandered through the jungle.

The jungle is majestic and a welcome change from the beach. We walked to what we think is the source of the river – an underground spring, a trickle from which we managed to fill our water bottles. This water is magnificent as it actually quenches your thirst.

Status Day 8: Nick is enjoying a Sunday afternoon on a tropical beach in the middle of nowhere.

Today felt like a Sunday – I’ve lost track of time, but it certainly felt like one. When I awoke seven of the survivors had disappeared in search of the mysterious ranger (I think his name might be Niel Bolchin) who lives on the other side of the mountain. Those of us left in camp spent the entire day sleeping, reading and writing. In Cape Town these are three of my four favourite pastimes. Eating was unfortunately absent.

There’s a strong difference of opinion within the group as to the purpose of Life 2 the limit; a disagreement that could well see the group reduce in numbers in the next week or sooner.

Half are hellbent on finishing the full 30 days come organ failure or Kate Moss waistlines. The other half wants Life 2 the limit to be more adventurous and less of an exercise in managed starvation. Considering that our food-finding efforts have yielded scant reward, there’s little energy for adventure. And starvation is fast losing its appeal.

Thankfully I managed to squeeze some rice into my five-litre bag.

These differences of opinion are becoming more vocal and I have a feeling that either someone will leave, or a group decision to ‘take it easy’ (in the words of my handsome friend Rory Clark), will need to be enforced.

Status Day 11: Nick tries to go for a longish walk and discovers that his body isn’t willing to join him.

I’ve officially decided that, as of today, this is the hardest physical undertaking I’ve ever experienced. For a variety or reasons I’ve stopped eating the reef fish and I’m averaging four tablespoons of rice every second day. I have next to no energy, and even the act of standing up is an effort – attempt to do so too quickly and you’ll pass out.

The group dynamic is getting very interesting. I’ve noticed a vindictive edge in certain comments – patience is starting to wear a little thin. It becomes more like Survivor every day – small groups holding impromptu meetings in hushed tones, whispers around the camp fire. I both love it and hate it. Thankfully this isn’t Survivor – those guys must get so stressed!

My dreams, which are intolerably vivid, are all about food. Curse you, subconscious.

The day ends with a slow walk to the point at the far end of the beach to fish. My handline didn’t get a single strike, although the sunset made up for the disappointment. I’m not sure I’ll do it again – navigating the slippery rocks proved extremely taxing; by the time I’d finished I felt like a sick, hung-over man who’s just finished running the Comrades.

Status Day 13: Nick is the unofficial ‘Pied Piper’ of the island, without a pipe and apparently without a say in the matter.

I was so chuffed with my bamboo, palm frond and garbage bag shelter that I decided to move my bedroom from its hanging space in the bushes to the floor beneath my newly built roof. This, I decided, was a superior location, with a stunning sea view, proximity to the larder, and flat ground.

The hammock has been giving me problems (imagine trying to fit a really tall giraffe into an extremely small banana peel) and I was determined to experiment with a sleeping spot that allowed me to stretch beyond the foetal position. I was convinced this night would be the best.

I quickly realised beach sand is not as accommodating a mattress as it promises. You can dig out a hollow for your hip, thigh, knees, shoulder and spine, but try and shift and you’re back to square one.

When I finally slept, I was awakened by a weight in my lap. It was not a well-directed drop-off of heavenly manna, but a rather large rat that appeared to be burrowing into my crotch. I was not impressed and the rat went flying.

For the rest of the night I had half-hour naps in between fending off repeat attacks from the enthusiastic rat that, in his past life, may or may not have been one you warn your children about.

Status Day 15: In which Nick tells of bran muffins, Tyvek and trench crotch.

I’m at my seat by the river again, thinking back on the last 24 hours. Everyone’s thinking the same thing: ‘When can I go home?’ Once they realise the answer is the same as it was five minutes before – ‘whenever I want’ – they spend the NEXT 15 minutes rationalising why they should stay at all.

Survivors are bored and without energy. Stimulating conversations have decreased daily; sometimes a whole 24 hours will pass before I even see one of my fellow participants. We’re cocooning ourselves, slowly but surely.

I’ve identified the island as having five main smells – salt water, wood smoke, fish, moist jungle earth and armpit. Yet yesterday a sixth smell wafted my way and it took an hour to decipher it: bran muffins. Not just any bran muffins, but a particular brand of deliciousness made by my neighbours in Cape Town. Nicky and Leigh, your muffins are second in awesomeness only to my fiancée’s blueberry masterpieces, and I will pay in wine and snackwiches for a batch upon my return.

I rave about my journal – not the contents, but the fabrication. This island is not kind to good-looking diaries – moisture creeps in, smudging penned thoughts and sticking pages together.

So mine has the roughest, toughest writing material around – called Tyvek. Like a cockroach in a nuclear storm, Tyvek withstands anything. It doesn’t tear, crumple, and you can write on it (obviously). Dunk a Tyvek journal full of notes into the sea overnight, and apart from a slight smudging, you’d swear nothing happened. Chuck Norris uses it for toilet paper, and I’m convinced it’s the future of all expedition journals and maps.

Like WWI soldiers who got trench foot from constantly being knee-deep in water, one of our group is always in the ocean, and he describes himself as having trench crotch – I had a good laugh.

Day 20: Nick likes this quote and lists things he hasn’t done in 20 days.

‘Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art….it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.’ C.S. Lewis

Things I haven’t done in 20 days:

-been ‘inside’

-worn underpants

-shaved

-heard music

-picked up a cell phone or looked at any type of screen

-showered

-used hot water

-used money

-used toilet paper

-slept on a bed

-seen an advertisement

-used deodorant

-eaten more than my stomach could hold (I do that quite regularly)

-had coffee (I miss you so much)

-worn a different shirt.

Status Day 18: Nick is almost 26, but now weighs what he did when he was 18.

Let me summarise the typical conversation:

‘How are you?’

‘Alright, hungry. You?’

‘Same. When you thinking of leaving?’

‘Dunno. You?’

‘Dunno, but I know what I’m eating when I do.’

And so the conversation continues into food fantasies. I think some survivors are leaving tomorrow. It will be interesting. I’m good for another couple of days.

I’ve been motivating myself by reading letters from my most excellent group of friends. I read them over and over, and more than anything, it makes me question why I’m starving myself to death, instead of spending time with the biggest legends ever.

Day 22: In which Nick is sorely tempted.

It’s been three days since our group split and half the survivors returned to the land of easily negotiable nutrition. Their departure seems to have reduced stress levels somewhat, although I’m not sure why.

With only five of us remaining, chores have become quite regimented. Saul and I fish, Joe prepares the fire and rice, and Maya or Huenu dresses whatever Saul catches that day.

Then there’s water to be collected and pumped, and firewood to be sourced. All this makes for a satisfying routine, and it feels like we’re operating as a tight unit.

This said, however, it is all I can do to stop myself from boarding the nearest fishing vessel and crouching in the corner like a human limpet until their only option is to take me back to the mainland.

Then the sun starts to set and the water reddens, and I’m once again struck by the magnificence of my temporary home and the rarest of opportunities that this experience presents, and my heart is settled for another day.

Intro
Day 1
Day 3
Day 4
Day 6
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13
Day 14
Day 15 a
Day 15 b
Day 16
Day 17
Day 18
Day 19
Day 20
Day 21a
Day 21b
Day 22
Day 25
Day 26
Day 27
Day 30

Saul, 31, lives occasionally in Johannesburg, South Africa. He can never quite sit still and is looking forward to swimming daily laps around the island!

Currently living in: Johannesburg, South Africa

What's your occupation? I am the head of Africa Health Placements, a social profit project which works with partners to bring health workers to where they are needed most in southern Africa.

Status: Night beats light.

Taking stock of food eaten for the day:

1 thumbnail-size portion of fish meat (with bones)

2 thumbnail-size pieces of coconut

1 thumbnail-size piece of charred lizard (it tastes like chicken)

End.

Let’s do the math – two spoonfuls of breakfast cereal – I probably ate half. It doesn’t take a nutritionist to know that.

I was feeling pretty low and had thoughts of going back. Just let me sleep, show me where my hammock is calling out to me.

It’s like watching 10 people out in the ocean. Some are bobbing on the crest of a swell, others are trying to peer out of the trough. Eventually the natural motion of the ocean will change everyone’s notion from high to low and low to high. Today I’m low but tomorrow Nick’s energy has waned and I’m chipper. The cycle is already clear.

My hammock has become a source of sanity. In the heat of midday when the bodies of survivors are strewn across the patches of shade on 150m of beach, I slowly bolt components onto my abode. I am strung between the widely splayed branches of a mangrove, creating a naturally defined space.

First I cleared an oval patch in the carpet of dead leaves, 3m by 3m. I’ve strung my rain tarp so that the seaward side is an open awning with full view of the ocean, and I’ve strung paracord 20cm above my hammock to keep the fly well off. Two red coat-hooks I brought have been screwed into the bough to hang clothes, bags etc. I’ve winched a low-hanging branch above my hammock up so that it doesn’t interfere, and I’ve used the remaining rope to create a line from which I’ve hung my knife, carabiners, shoes, spare string…

I’ve cleared a half-metre entrance through the leaves into my clearing, so that my whole floor and entrance is golden beach sand. Two metre to 1 metre-high wooden stakes line the entrance to give a sense of inside and out. I’m starting to line my oval with thick branches and rocks to demarcate the space and stop all leaves from blowing in. Benches, waterproof shelves and a Styrofoam seat are all works in progress.

Despite a listless day I was very happy climbing into my hammock for sleeping. All I can see is the silhouette of a lattice of leaves hanging over me, and the primitive stakes lining my space against a black-blue ocean. A white butterfly with night-edged wings flutters in the breeze, landing lighter than a leaf, seemingly moved by the sneeze of the ocean lapping 5m away from my false but comforting cocoon.

Status: Day 6: The elephants are on the beach

Maximum haul of fish, two meals with broth and a fistful of meat. I’m the provider, yet it’s going to divide us.

The whole day whispers from all about how this is ‘not so much fun’, this is ‘just a starvation exercise’, ‘the island is bare’, ‘people are bored’, ‘survival courses are only a week’, ‘the heat is draining me’, ‘the torrential downpours keep me cold and damp in my sleep’.

To the credit of the group dynamic, it was all blurted out over our first dry camp fire, our first ‘second’ meal of a day. Conflicting views – ‘I’ll sit under a tree and starve for 30 days’ to ‘I never came here as an exercise in starvation’.

I’m still strong. Though the experience is certainly turning out to be more one-dimensional than I thought. It’s food, food, food, hunger, hunger, hunger.

My sanity – I’m the only one with a sleeping rain-shelter (why is everyone in such denial about constructing this, first and foremost?) I have purpose and creative outlet in constructing my personal space – I have personal space! I have a routine, a clean hammock and am taking immense pleasure in how slowly I move here and how little I get done. At home I’m even making phone calls on the toilet. Here I haven’t been yet!

The discussion over the fire was healthy. Everyone had their say. People didn’t interrupt (for the most part – we have a one-tenth tendency for this to happen), listened, responded to the person’s point of view before moving onto theirs… remarkably mature.

We made a plan on how to tackle the next day. We debated whether what we are doing is survival or testing survival skills, or ‘survival with a conscience’ versus ‘survival at all costs’. Everyone left heard. One day at a time.

Buoyed by this interaction, wise-man Matt and Jono ‘The Rock’ injected a dose of reality into my realised idealistic euphoria: it’s early, early days.

Still had a beautiful evening under a clear sky.

I had been carrying home with me the whole day, after my previous night’s bout of dreams. Home in my mind and home in my dry hammock, I slept for the A team.

In the night the wind changed direction. The warm monsoon nudging itself in three weeks before it’s due. In the night I dreamed of a bull with the head of one of my slaughtered fish chasing me around a rock in a narrow gorge, flaming red eyes and yellow pupils intent on me …

Status Day 8: The fellowship of the ranger

Seven of us set off in search of the legendary ranger of our island. Kristen, Angi, Huenu, Jono, Matt, Lisa and me. His fabled existence passed down in the days of yore from generation to generation. ‘Pass between the mountains guarding each side of the Beach of Men, following the river bed through the jungle and over the saddle. Do not leave the river, for what lurks in the tropical entanglement beyond? It should take one hour.’ We all left with our precioussssss in mind – some rice from the ranger.

Two and a half hours later, still clambering up the magnificent river, swimming in cool ponds, imitating shampoo adverts in waterfalls, shaded by a canopy sometimes 20 to 30m above us, the fellowship split up. Kristen, Lisa and Angi returned to the Beach of Men. Four of us, the most pig-headed, determined not to fail – continued onwards. Our mission was clear despite our compass telling us otherwise.

Eight hours later we dropped down to the ocean, a 500m swim from our Beach of Men! We had scaled the highest peak to our east and come back down a different ridge to almost the same spot! I know there are some people back at home who might laugh at this. Reminded me of:

The last 1km of Fish River Canyon.

A half day hike at Kingdom Trails in Mpumalanga.

Driving to Hluhluwe Game Reserve.

But I loved this hike as much as any. Fuelled by one coconut chip this morning I skipped lightly along up and down a mountain, through a tropical forest, over river and cliff and felled tree, under waterfalls and ivy and palm fronds, around boulders and ankle-breakers. And returned with a few pricks in my hand.

Sure beat lying on my back sweating away my resolve …

Status Day 9: Ode to the island life

Let me count the ways:

The sounds of birds in the mangrove as the dawn cracks.

Resonating in time with the tides as the bay empties and fills.

Pristine tropical forest, bamboo groves, waterfalls at our backs.

Hunting a meaty fish, it escapes, it’s close, I’ve got it. The thrills.

Hermit crabs rustling giant carpets of leaves in the night.

High and low-pitched, constant and rhythmic insect soundtracks.

The ocean lapping my lullaby as early as two stars passed twilight.

The routine, lamp-lit sounds as my neighbour his hammock unpacks.

The little headrush I float on every time I get up.

Salt-crusted hair, itchy ankles, a golden brown sheen.

Finding lizards tasty and drinking washed-up tea in washed-up tea cups.

Activity to live, swim, dive, hike and build makes me lean.

Moving slowing, no rush, no energy to do much more.

At home I’m so busy I’m even talking on the loo.

Here it’s only about doing what I need to live at the core.

No additives, preservatives, flavorants, alarm clock cuckoo.

New people, unpredictable dilemmas and 10 varying reasons,

Each night-time bonfire illuminates the faces of our own purpose.

Interrupted by the rumble and fireworks of a coming new season.

It’s a good sign that whispers and concerns immediately break surface.

Thought it’s still in reality 10 people with their own factions and fiction,

I’m loving navigating these boundaries with real interest.

It’s amazing the same words which to each have different diction,

Who knows at this stage whether paradise will be more of less?

(Not quite the right rhythm. Worth a try!)

Status Day 11: No place like home, each character is shown.

Our new beach and each person in the group has chosen quite a characteristic spot to call home. Our beach is a 500m crescent of golden sand, with the mouth of the river 30m from the far right (with your back to the sea). Group camp is on the very far right, nestled between rocks and under overhanging foliage.

Maya: Close to camp, still to the right of the river mouth, neighbouring

Huenu. She sleeps out in the open on the beach, using her hammock as a sleeping bag. Not demanding anything of her space or for extra comfort. Close to everything for maximum energy saving.

Huenu: Still right on the river mouth, she sleeps right on the bank. Her hammock is strung from a low-hanging tree, and she and Maya spend most of the day lying in the shade here. Functional space, cool, close to the water, a few trays and collected bags to keep things in order. But still very little privacy. ‘Urban studio living’.

Jono, Kristen, Matt: Just across the left bank of the river, they have laid down their hammocks on a flat, sandy stretch above the beach under a dense mangrove shade. Side by side, they have rigged some poles which raise their hammocks off their bodies when they sleep. Infested with ants, visible from the beach, dealing with the basics of comfort, lying out of the heat of the day with a crossword and a heat-drained doziness. Set up to survive inch-by-inch in ‘rented city accommodation’.

Nick: In the forest directly behind Jono, Kris and Matt, Nick has strung his hammock between the trees. Enclosed by branches to the sides, leaves and flotsam below, and lush green foliage above, Nick is out of sight. His ‘fixer-upper’ has potential, but it may come with buyer’s remorse because of the ant infestations and very low energy levels to do anything with it.

Angi and Lisa: 50m down the beach from Jono etc’s cluster homes, Angi and Lisa have a spot just back off the beach. Their hammocks are strung head to toe with clear and open views of the sea and horizon beyond. Their shared home is strewn with washing lines and other paraphernalia collected by Angi off the beach just before the crack of dawn, while Lisa usually sleeps in. A functional, suburban household with good neighbourliness.

Joe: 100m further down the beach is Joe’s condo on the border of what may become suburban in the future. Minimalist, clean functionality, completely open views from horizon to horizon, this pad suits Joe’s out-and-about group lifestyle. Joe’s kit is stored at group camp and pretty much only his hammock is at ‘home’. Joe is focused on putting his mechanical and medicinal energy into the group.

Me: 50 from the far left of the beach is my small holding outside of town. A good trek into group camp each day, I like my space, solitude and the walk-in. Tucked like a hobbit through a low opening through the mangrove branches, my home opens into a cocoon of functional homeliness. Bench, cleared sand for sleeping, cool, washing poles, walkways, rain shelter … And an area for ‘entertaining’ people who have the energy to come visit. Lots of little nooks, crannies, arches, trinkets, and ideas for expansion. Importantly, lots to keep me intrigued and engaged!

Status Day 12: Loving my life!

So often I wish for this kind of routine, connection to my food, living with the elements, simplicity but with stimulation, time for myself, basic purpose. It turned from the last few days. The first 10 were a hectic period of adjustment. As is always the case.

Have loved my progress in my relationship to my environment. First impression was barren, filthy, with washed-up litter, sweltering heat, low stimulation. Then I went through a phase of desensitisation – catch what I can see, no longer ‘see’ the rubbish, avoid the heat through sleep, numb brains!

The last few days have been a new phase. I am trying to see the rubbish as a wealth of usable items – turning old buoys into cupboards, neon bulbs into post-modern decorations, strops into bench seats on protruding branches.

When fishing, I now see thousands of coloured reef fish and intricate coral.

It’s amazing how rich this ocean is. Sea snakes, eels, big neon fish, clown fish, blue pink brown spotted striped scared inquisitive nonchalant angry cute fish. Barracuda!

The heat is now a welcomed respite from activity, so I can lie on my back and think. My thoughts twist and gnarl with the natural flow of the ancient wood above me. Ants tickle me, birds coo me to sleep.

Status Day 14: Well, that’s all he wrote …

Use a pen, Sideshow Bob…

Status Day 15: A lot of time to daydream: Choose your own adventure.

Alternative endings to my island adventure:

1. Desperately missing the taste of lemons, someone cracks mentally and hacks a few adventurers with a Leatherman, pulling people’s hair with the monstrous pliers. The survivors of this ordeal now need to devise a 24-hour watch over their prisoner (who has been over-powered with a stick with a nail in the end of it) as they debate the merits of the death penalty.

2. This whole month has been a Truman show set up without me knowing. All other ‘adventurers’ here are actually actors moving the plot around me, eating stores of chocolates and checking emails when I am asleep. I eventually open the proverbial door-in-the-wall and step right into downtown Hollywood. I go get a chocolate ice-cream.

3. I’m not actually even on the island anymore, but on a plane flying secretly to Kenton for Matt and Chess’s wedding. This message has been forwarded.

4. Our camp on the beach has blocked access to the sea for the troop of monkeys living 2m back from us in the jungle. A man v monkey battle ensues. But I end up befriending one of the monkeys, learning their ways, language and culture, eventually leading them in a final negotiation with the humans … and then into battle. Victorious, I marry the monkey maiden and fulfil yet another clichéd metaphor for appeasing white guilt.

5. None of us is on any island. We are partying it up in Stellenbosch, eating, drinking and acting silly, writing these entries after long benders. We’ve got sponsored liposuction to shrink us to ‘post-island size’ at the end of the month.

6. Extra terrestrials beam-me-up-Scotty. Through a painful but valuable process of brain reprogramming and anal probing, I learn the truth of the universe and return just before the end of the 30 days on the island. Returning to the real world, I expound the unique truth I now carry – that Earth is a purgatory for alien spirits which inhabit our bodies here.

I grow a following, preside over mass weddings for the likes of the South African president, until finally some people who believe completely in an unseen god decide I am blasphemous and crazy and lock me away in a padded room…

7. Missing the taste of lemons, I swim home.

When life throws you lemons, make lemonade.

Mmmm… lemonade.

(continued...)

7. Missing the taste of lemons, I swim home.

When life throws you lemons, make lemonade.

Mmmm… lemonade.

Status Day 16: Messages in a bottle

You’ll hopefully know if this is shooting back out to you at ‘home’:

* Still haven’t found a mermaid. Still the same old nerd looking forward to Frodo’s storytime.

* Sorry I missed your 18^th! You can drive me round the bend soon.

* A3, kiteski, CT, Cushy – hippy or yuppy?

* Cooooobras! Coooobras! (luckily seen none). Drinkin' William Tell.

* Swim, Forest, swim!

* Manly hugs on your big day, Boss, Sir.

* Shaba ranx, still haven’t caught Kanye that gay fish. Plenty of Daddy Deep Blue though. And why me laff?

* Cool Moe bee, calling out to Corky, join you soon on your journey.

* The same life spirals as at Scuzis, new venue, happily many above sea level. Sharing will be caring.

* The siiiiiize. Where has it all gone? Certainly nobody asking for my signature. S, S, my S. Billions!

* Mein P… Hope it’s finally yours.

* Made a guru of him yet. This is your place…

* Dreaming about your Tsimis. And both your sight being right.

* Been to the loo a few times but couldn’t phone. Sorry. My night time baths enhanced by cool duck.

* Have still not caught any joy as smelly as your pap snoek.

* From Test Pattern to Butter Chicken. Mmmm butter chicken. All under TinTin Au Congo.

* Uncanny Nordic connections keeping you close.

* No mosquitoes biting me here like in Wales.

* What’s your name? Susaaaan? Where’d you see me dance? Where? Where?

* Into the fire, hope it’s not as dire, with your yogi squire.

* Hope you getting some play time in Granny Smith (oh no, not another family!)

* I’m officially as moronic as you, much appreciated.

* From chief to you: I can cut, light and make fire simultaneously! Is my email auto-response on? And I hope mimecast isn’t archiving everything, because I’m going to need them all on day 1. Save the world one person at a time.

* And that’s the Saul report!

Status Day 17: Wish I weren’t here

Been a great last week. Today I just don’t want to be here. Thinking about Matt and Chess’s wedding. Matt and Chess – made a video for you guys with all 10 of us here. Will give it to you as soon as I’m off. Thunder and lightning and rain storms after dark. Kept waking up, checking the tide for the time, subtracting five hours, and imagining where the festivities, my lady and people were at.

Status Day 18: Talk is expensive today, but lots to count.

Four people announced today that they will be leaving. Angi, Lisa, Matt, Jono – Kristen as a maybe. Drank in their sense of relief and anticipatorial joy. I will have it soon enough, but a little swig today was good.

In terms of consumption, that is the only way I live here, in little swigs. The release also lightens some of the tensions between the sub-groups. Ease of conversation I haven’t seen in a little while.

I’m rather sorry they’re going. They’re a good bunch, in a settled dynamic. Hung, played cards, chatted with them this morning. But enough was enough, and I soon retreated to a day of pottering and faffing in and on my abode.

My retreats each day are quite distinct for me. After the same old fireside talk tonight, I took a 10-minute meander down the beach home by the night light. Clear skies with all the stars one can see from our world. A new sickle moon cropping the sky on a horizon, flashing with bars of bolts from a distant thunderstorm.

Rumbles, night insects, incoming tide, crabs in the leaves.

Day 19 Status: Five little piggies went to market, five little piggies stayed at home. Jono, Kristen, Lisa, Angi and Matt …bye cricket boy.

Within this manufactured experience, some things are unavoidably real. Chosen island with water. Carefully selected ‘survivors’ with carefully planned and seemingly arbitrarily chosen sited bags. a ‘blog’, an escape boat every three days. One doctor, one purpose-built medical kit. Mental preparation. Set time frame. No ‘get saved at all costs’. A label, news, funds, exposure …

But today, with a rush of some of my first glucose to the brain in 19 days (a gift on Nick’s birthday), the edges of my tree, surroundings, environment, compatriots, dynamics, energies are coming back into sharp focus. My physiology is crying out for more fuel. My mind is asking some interesting questions, and trying for observations and insights.

Why did these five leave? Why did us five stay? How did each five leave, or justify leaving? And similarly for those who stayed? Why has the group dynamic become more unified? Is it five people versus 10? Is it which five? How is this ‘restart’ on duties being handled compared to naive day t-1? How are the ‘remainders’ adapting? Leadership? Support? Topics of interaction? Measuring the difference in potential and action between those gone and those stayed?

The five who have left definitely represented the array of mindsets: ‘why the hell are we bothering?’ They were always steering the talking towards the difficulties, the alternatives, coaxing others out of corners to ask and face… Were they trying to gain support or were they acting out what must be such an element on such an expedition? I’m interested to see now, without these elements, whether our human group, as a single psycho-unified organism, will start to develop this questioning in previously ‘healthy’ appendages… Whether this aspect exists beyond the characters of the departed and must thus be a function of the body as a whole.

It would be analogous to treating symptoms in a body for a psychosomatic diagnosis.

Day 21: Food for thought.

My rehab centre madness continues. I mainlined more sugar today and then slumped to a brain-dead grumble for more, foraging as slowly through my stash as my residual willpower allowed.

In a spike of clarity I can see my state as follows: for 19 days I hunted my own protein. With only protein to digest, my body went into a state of ketosis. The protein metabolism took a good few days to get used to, but eventually my body adapted, using it to produce the energy I needed to have quite a fair time here without feeling too hungry.

Stable for 19 days, I then reintroduced carbs. An easier (and more familiar) fuel for my body, it started to think it could have carbs again. It has become über hungry again for them. My brain (which, as far as I understand, can only use glucose as energy) keeps flickering on and off as I inject and withhold its fuel.

Consequently, for the last three days, I have been ratty from hunger, slumped against a tree, without motivation or will to pursue all the opportunities this unique experience is presenting me. As my productivity has declined, so my critical self-discipline and driven character has intervened with feelings of worthlessness, unmet expectations, frustration and sadness. (continued...)

(continued...)

This in itself is an interesting and valuable micro-period insight into my own fundamentals. But, linking this state to a physiological response has given me understanding – and more questions – about other faculties of our society.

To pose them very quickly here:

- How does malnourishment of a child in a learning setting without the glucose necessary to fuel the brain affect that child’s productivity and output, and consequently that child’s sense of self-worth, motivation and aspirations? The psychological programming of such an extended experience cannot be mitigated within that child by an understanding of the physiological reasons. For that matter, in fact, society down the line will not understand either.

- How does the change in diet introduced by urbanisation and Westernisation impact on those people taking part in these ‘ isations’? A rural subsistence farmer coming to the city or going to work on the mines encounters new foods. His/her body has not adapted to coping with these in a balanced way. This must upset brain functioning and energy levels, motivation and mental balance, eventually trapping them in a downward spiral. Such a spiral is reinforced by those around them, both peers and – let’s put it bluntly – in higher societal strata. Furthermore, such changes may lead to ill health and diseases such as diabetes, which destroys the body’s productivity irreversibly. This adds to the cost of living in a group of people trapped in a situation where such additional costs are nothing but unaffordable.

- And more questions about diet’s impact and role to play in the aspired-to ‘Western’ lifestyle of sedentary, lethargic, over-consumptive routines. I now suspect food feeds such cycles, rather than arises from them.

Status: Facebook status: In a relationship (with 9 people I don’t know).

A natural haze has settled on any insight I can have into my feelings – and as far as I can see, it’s a group thing. Nerves, nausea and a new world. It does seem natural that the adrenaline we’re feeling at the top of this vertical waterslide – that will last for 30 days – should have us holding our breath before the long scream.

Natural feelings, but rather unnatural to fake an island shipwreck with the uber-bag: 6 litres of stuff crammed into a 5-litre bag. My toothpaste burst, my bag burst. Tiny, inedible crabs for supper was the worst. Screw that – setting up shelter should be first. Then why is everyone wandering around, picking up litter like vagrants looking for something useful on the dump?

Our island getaway fresh water is too sea-salty to quench thirst. The sense of cloud-forest beauty and turquoise water is replaced by a silent foreboding that we may have been cursed.

With no food in our bellies and sand fleas on our feet, it seems the unnatural natural adventure is off on an irregular beat.

Status: Rolling with the punches, despite no lunches

It’s the driest month of the year! But it rains every day. We found bananas! But they’re as bitter and inedible as sea slugs… We have a fishing trap! But two days, and nothing. Crabs everywhere! But they’re so small we’ve stopped bothering to collect, cook, crack and consume the pinky-nail of meat.

Turquoise waters! Bare ocean floor …

Yet, with literally nothing passing my lips today, with five hours of fishing yielding nothing, there’s much to be positive about. Palm hearts and ivy leaves tested for edibility. A second fish trap yielding clues to my misconstruction of the first.

Jono and I swam the new, improved trap out on the other side of the bay in the torrential rain, and discovered infestations of fish. Much relief after a day of trawling over ashen coral, with only the purple Cheshire grins of accessible clams sneering up at me.

Rain brought relief from a heat epidemic that laid the strongest among us flat out and immobile. But as I am the only one with a rain shelter above his sleeping quarters, methinks there is a little denial in the group about the number one survival manoeuvre – SHELTER! A soggy night ahead for all as the rain is not going to let up.

Mosquitoes won’t stop biting me.

So my legs look like a chickenpox Christmas tree.

Where does old man Matt get so much energy?

Beating even Jungle King Jono for activity …

It’s such as mission getting anything done, you see

When all you can think of is pizza delivery.

Everyone’s still contributing, in their own way, quite evenly,

Fuelled by sweet water collected when it’s raining,

As still no food at this stage to eat.

At night it sounds like the enemy

Is rummaging through our possessions, which to us are so heavenly.

I thought it was a wild pig at first (tasty!)

But it seems it’s just hermit crabs in the leaves.

Getting up in the night to have a pee

Is such a mission when I get sandy

And have to get back into my hammock sleepy

Cleaning the sand off and bitten by fleas

To slumber back again into a world so dreamy

On and off with tides lapping my lullaby … zzzz.

Status Day 10: Shared comfort of discomfort.

Moved beaches today. A basic but tiring exercise. We now have ice cool drinking water and a river to swim in, less (visible) trash, a better shaded communal area. We don’t have as much familiarity, as wide a vista and our old personal spaces. Change is as good as a holiday.

But I’m already on one! Or so it’s finally starting to feel.

The sub groups among us are starting to shift a little and define themselves more clearly. Not dividing us, but certainly following themes of thought. I’m staying on the outskirts of this, dipping in every now and then, finding it fascinating. Except for the conversations about ‘how long do you think so-and-so is going to stay for?’ or ‘how long are you going to stay for?’

At first this gave useful insight into how people were approaching this, gauging their state of mind. Now I’m finding it rather monotonous. I’m not even trying to avoid it. I just don’t engage in it.

It’s not surprising though. It’s being used as a way to find comfort in shared discomfort. To exit in a group rather than face that decision as an individual. To relate to unknown others on a very much shared, mutual territory. As a way to occupy minds that have no home-type distractions and which have not found the stimulus which people were expecting and hoping to find on this island, barren of most semblances of our pervasive global culture.

My bet it’s just talk, and nobody is going anywhere for the foreseeable few weeks.

I’m having more and more moments of bliss on my island life. More moments of clarity. My body in a natural rhythm. My mind stimulated by unique alone-time. My spirit free of constraints of sporadic free time.

Status Day 13: I’m doing it now.

When else would you:

* Eat and drink only things you have collected yourself from the source.

* Watch an ant the size of your thumb climb over your foot and wonder how hard it can bite, as you wait for it to crawl off before you carry on with what you’re doing.

* Collect empty, washed-up lighters on the beach – marvelling at their array of colours – to make into some colourful decoration for home.

* Wake up at night because the sound of water lapping 3m away from you is too loud.

* Share four small fish between 10 hungry people, dividing the portions into 10, with nine others watching and waiting as each person eats their portion with their hands.

* Look forward to the un-air-conditioned heat of the afternoon so you can lie inert and flat on your back in the sand under a tree.

* Look forward to the head rush you know you’ll get when you stand up.

* Spend two hours untangling a piece of rope, lying in the sand.

* Sleep 10 hours a night and not even know what day it is.

* Spend the afternoon smashing the bottom shells of oysters off a rock with a stone, eating tens of the shellfish in a day.

* Spend 15 minutes flossing your teeth, enjoying the feeling and really trying to improve the clean.

* All crowd around for a sip of the little Pepsi washed up in a bottle on the beach.

* Know and measure your life by the phases of the moon.

* Not have answered a phone for more than three weeks.

Day 20: Waffle brakes on my cycling.

For 19 days I ate only what I collected and caught myself. Fish for breakfast and supper, nuts, lizards, oysters, unripe bananas etc.

Now I’ve injected myself with a hit of sugar and I’m a raving addict, trapped spinning like a sugar rat on the wheel of my thoughts.

Lowest energy today of any.

Today my brakes on this wheel were thoughts of the waffles I didn’t eat on my way here (despite plenty of opportunities), and how much sweeter they are going to be in May. Not only because of any food appreciation after deprivation, more because they will be consumed outside of the isolation of my confined survival mind space, and back in a warm and shared plateau where I roam hither and thither in shared wonder.

I’m recognising how the ways in which I confine my mind here, to push through the goals I set myself, is the same compartmentalisation technique I use to take myself through the absurd treachery of everyday life outside of this.

I am looking forward to opening you and me up to wider and wider spaces with a bit of what I take from here.

Day 22: Thoughts on a brave new world.

At night the whole universe is open above, and I wonder which star is Pepperlink. Once one right said that this shouldn’t be me versus nature, but rather nature and me.

It hasn’t been easy but I feel I’m getting to consequences, of which I never did think. A kind of ascetic disengagement from controlling so little that it has left my mind to think quite freely!

No hoarding for later, a surgical removal of a part of my culture, leaving me with the Ismael link.

Day 17: Well, duh!

It’s night. In my hammock. Right now it struck me. I’ve reached up for my torch and across the top rope for my diary. In their usual places. Silhouetted mangrove leaves and sea on my doorstep as per usual. This is all now USUAL for me.

It struck me: I’ve been living on an uninhabited island for four weeks.

Day 30: Why was I not taught that it’s ok to love folds in a mountain?

At school, when we were taught about trees, forests, insects, ecosystems, why did nobody tease from us how we feel about and connect with these things? Why was I not taught that it’s ok to love folds in a mountain? Aren’t the faces and scenes I see in a gnarl of bark on a tree or in the blistering façade of a cloud the very source of what stimulated the evolution of intelligence?

I want to know how coral grows, but am I not allowed to explore the hypnotic mesmerisation of its colours? Is this not as much part of the reef to me as the process that led to its formation?

Today Joe and I said our farewells to our home. Including a grateful appreciation for having shared in its cycles and beauty. I love this place.

It’s coming with me. I’m stoked.

Day 25: Let’s do the maths.

Ten to two in six. Two on one. Only two. Five till 30. Though keep still looking down the beach for the last three… In reality it’s just me here.

It was quite an emotional farewell to Huenu, Maya and Nick today for me. A peek into the emotional strain of survival. An anticipation of the joy of what another five days still might bring! Especially as I said farewell to the last tenuous line that could have fished me from before Day 30.

But maybe more than anything else, it was romanticism in retrospect. I’ve been so surviving in the moment here it gave me some island from which to look back at the illuminated series of progressive experiences leading up to this point.

Joe and I yelled into the trees for our own voices. Trying to actually comprehend our solitude. Isolation with my childhood friend a welcome chance.

Unable to quite fathom it all, we went back to business as usual – writing, talking, doing the basics for existing.

Day 26: Monsoon so soon?

I’m growing in strength every day. Fewer mouths to feed – more fish. Fewer people – less dynamics. More time – slotting into life as usual.

Joe and I huddled under inherited sarongs below my hammock as the persistent grey, flashing, rumbling monsoon rolled in this afternoon. There were moments when we were forecasting hours and days of perpetual dampness and shivering; where departure on Day 28 seemed an inevitable conclusion.

But inevitability and this last month have yet to meet and our presence in and on our solitary beach never waned. Thoughts of an early departure were just that: thoughts. And life here seems to have evolved beyond plotting rations, logic, and generally any kind of plotting. Rather I would describe the rudder of my life here as presenting no resistance to the forces swirling naturally and environmentally around us, or to those forces between Joe and me, or to those within me. Either way, the immoveable milestone of 30 days will arrive.

And today it feels like it is looming. There is still so much I want to bring to my time here. I suppose lessons for time I will spend out of here.

All this has also given me a glimpse of how warped my reality is here in relation to the one from which I came. Like if I turn my head quickly enough behind me I could see it all before it actually unfolds and gain some perspective of it all.

Too much Eddie Vedder in my head today!

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