Marooned by Howard Pyle

Marooned. Lost. Stranded. The words repeated over and over again in Tom Robinn's head as he lay on the sandy beach of the deserted island. He sat up and watched the waves roll up and down the shore. A seagull flew above him. It squawked, almost laughing at him. Tom threw a handful of sand at it. It squawked again and flew away over the ocean. Tom got up and staggered over to a lone palm tree, out of the scorching sun. He sat down leaning against the trunk. He looked up and sighed when he saw a cluster of coconuts hanging from the tree. 'I remember when the captain docked the ship in Jamaica for repair. Joe cracked a dozen coconuts over his head for all of us. He was so funny.' Tom sighed again. Joe, his shipmate, was gone. Captain Taylor was gone. The whole crew was gone. This ship was gone. Disease. Sailor's Cough, as Tom and the other pirates called it, had killed everyone on the Black Diamond. Everyone, except Tom. 'And now I'm stuck here,' Tom thought. 'I'm stuck here with no food, water, or company.' Tom moaned and complained most of the afternoon, as he collected driftwood and vines. When it was nearly dark, Tom sat down by the palm tree and quickly fell asleep. That night he had horrible nightmares about everyone on the Black Diamond dropping over dead and the ship crashing near the island. He saw himself swimming toward the island, starving there, and then dying. Tom woke up the next morning with cold water rolling toward his feet. 'High tide' he thought. Tom sat up and crawled to his small pile of driftwood and tangled vines. He tried to think of how he could use them to get off the island. 'If I could get enough drfitwood, I might be able to put it together to make a small raft' Tom thought. 'But I'm so hungry. Maybe I could make a spear and get a few fish. No, I'd need more driftwood to make a fire and cook the fish. Tom lay down in the sand and sighed. 'Even if I could find enough wood to make a raft, he thought, I still couldn't get anywhere, I don't know where I am. I have no map.' The starving pirate thought for a moment longer. He decided to make a spear. He used a long, thin piece of wood and tied his pocketknife to the end with a small vine. Tom had a feast that night, with crab, clams, and lots of fish. He slept peacefully, knowing that he could last a while longer on the island now that he could find food. No one knows what happened to Tom. Maybe he died from lack of fresh water. Perhaps the Royal Navy rescued him. Perchance, he built a raft and sailed away. Possibly, Tom is still on the island. Stranded. Lost. Marooned.

Author's Statement

My name is Caitlin Waring. I live in Pen Argyl, Pennsylvania and I am twelve years old. I am a seventh grader at Wind Gap Middle School. I have a yellow lab/beagle mix named Tucker and a red-eared turtle named Roger. I have enjoyed writing since I was little. I like writing fictional stories and stories about animals. In addition to writing about Marooned, I have recently written an animal mystery and a historical fiction account of my great great grandfather's journey from Italy to America. In my spare time, I enjoy writing stories, hanging out with my friends, and reading. I am currently reading the Pendragon series by D.J. MacHale.

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