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Codes of Survival -Scripts - a series of short factionalized stories based
on historical events in the Subantarctic Islands written by Lloyd Godman
to accompany the exhibition and installation - 1993 - © Lloyd Godman
Codes of
Survival - Scripts
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1887 - DERRY CASTLE
With much excitement, we stroked for shore. The
roughly made oars, cumbersome to use and hard
on the palms, were making some effect on the
distance to the island. The craft we had assembled from
no more than the washed up wreckage of our old ship,
fashioned with only bare hands and a sole rusty axe
head found on the island, was slow to move despite the
strain of our endeavour. It was mainly due to the shape,
chisel nosed at both ends, more of a punt than a boat,
and lined with wrinkled canvas on the outside to keep it
tight from the sea. It was an ungainly shape we had to
push through the water rather than cut or glide as a
proper boat would have. It meant hellishing hard work
for us, but it did stay afloat.
After the wreck of the Derry Castle  in the dead of the
darkness, we had spent too long on Enderby island. It
had all been a terrible span right from the unexpected
time we struck the reef, with the mutilated bodies of those
drowned at the wreck to bury as best we could  , little
food of any worth, wet cold clothes that hung to us and
inevitably dried stiff as boards with brine and no fire to
warm by ( till we managed to strike a single cartridge
found in a pocket, to smoulder and coax in to flame). And
no boat, of any kind that was the worst of it, that's why
our simple punt meant so much. We had a means of
movement from one island to another.
We had looked, all of us, long and hard for hours at a time,
across the water to the castaway depot on the other
island at Erebus Cove  . More frustrated by the day we
became from the need of a boat to cross the water
between the two islands. There could be all the supplies
in that shelter that we would need and then some more,
even though the Stella Hut depot on Enderby had nothing
more than a confounded solitary bottle of salt  .
The rest, the essentials we so desperately needed,
we can only assume must have been taken by
an inconsiderate fool.
Yes, the bulk of those supplies must have been
commandeered by a visiting ship, despite the notice
on the lid of the box that read,
" CASE NO 1. The curse of the widow and fatherless child light upon the man who breaks this box, whilst he has a ship at his back".
All we found was the empty box and these
unheeded but telling words, with the single bottle of salt.
It made us shudder in our boots at the thought that our
wives could be the next widow, and our children the
next fatherless, while at the same time we were mad
with rage at the scoundrel who has pilfered the
bulk of the supplies. May the curse of the sea fall
upon him as well and find him
an eternal grave.
We were not brave or perchance foolish enough to cross
the strait in one single sweep, from point to point in this
frail craft. No, we hugged the coast in fear of any fast
approaching storm, though the day had held calm and
clear. Then in a frantic burst of energy, we would cross
the straight from island to island hugging the coast line as
close as we dared once more. Eventually after this island skipping, we reached the main island following the
coast line closely around the points and bays there too.
Right down, along the rocky shore, past bay after bay
and past a great fluted knob of rock that rose vertical from
the ocean as a head land we stoked. Later, at the time we
were resced, we found this feature was called
Dea's Head.  The task was surprisingly hard,
as it took a full day to cover a distance that
we could normally have
rowed in an hour.
Finally we pulled the heavy punt well clear of the ocean and tied
it to a tree as well as we were able, for the last calamity we
could do with was to lose this only craft. This punt we might
need again to cross the strait and bring the others over one at a
time. The supply depot was here, right in front of us, and with
some excitement we walked up the over grown path way to the doorway. With some hesitation the door was finally opened to
reveal inside a full hut of the supplies we had dreamed of. In
utter jubilation, in we rushed. The others could well have heard
our happy cries across the ocean as box after box we ripped
open. There was biscuit, more than we could have imagined, and we immediately crammed our mouths full to the brim with, this dry
and crumbling food. We feverishly crunched away as we ripped
out the other items from the welcome boxes. " Blankets",
Rennie called "and matches". 
But I had found tea, sugar and dripping among the
packages and called back. "There's knives, fishing lines and hooks, an axe and saws"
he exclaimed. "we'll be right from now on, god wer'e saved". In my next box was preserved meat, medicine, and when I
lifted the lid of the next box beside me, there were
fresh and warm clothing, boots as well.
Rennie had found cooking utensils and rifles complete with ammunition. There was even more salt! We would all have
more supplies than we could have dreamed of. Now, at last,
we could all deal a blow to the beast of famine. The very first
thing we did was to make a cup of tea to wash down the dry
biscuit. I never have sugar in my tea, but this once it tasted sweet and as delightful as I had never imagined. We sat on the now
empty boxes chatting about our outlook and sipping on the
hot tea. It felt good.
After some time and may be the third cup of the refreshing tea,
we discussed the prospects for us all now we had this abundant supply of essentials. It seemed we were safe. But what if we
were here unrescued for years, how would the supplies last
out then. Perhaps there was too many of us and they would
run out in no time? As we had opened them, it seemed
there was ample, but now the pile had suddenly
diminished and there seemed not so much to last awhile,
and it unnerved us. We talked over all kinds of wild
scenarios and we were both determined that if anyone
would survive this ordeal, it would be the two of us,
for it was us two who had taken the risk in this
uncertain craft across the changeable strait.
We decided then to have an extra share for ourselves, and
hide some supplies unknown and away from the others, in the
bush that we could use if things become tight. So, we
gathered up enough that could not be missed when the
others arrived, both in terms of essential food, and also
clothes, a rifle, ammunition and fish hooks. These we carried
far of into the bush and hid them in a dry sheltered spot that
we covered with bracken. We had already decided that
the best option was to have two "private" depots for only our
use at a later date. One with food at the south of the shelter,
and the other with the rifle, fish hooks, clothes and some
more food. This second stash, would be used as a last resort,
while the other one could be used more freely to
supplement our normal diet.
After this, we managed to find the dingy left by the Government steamer, and set off rowing back to the main island. In time,
through a series of crossings, all the castaways were
enjoying the luxury of the supplies of the depot. We
spent several months in relative comfort, and the supplies
held quite well for all our needs. Unfortunately, after a
period of months, the two of us became greedy, and
would sneak off through the trees to the first supply depot
for extra food to add to the normal rations at any chance
we could. This we had indulged in for a few weeks, till we were apprehended by one of the other castaways.
It was an embarrassment to have been caught with no
reasonable excuse and it caused all hell in the camp. We felt so
low, and untrue to our comrades when they all found out. I
couldn't face them for weeks after with anything like an eyeball to eyeball look. They would look at us with the foulest of
expressions, knowing of our true deeds and thoughts. We
felt like heels for the rest of the time we all spent together
on that island.
It was about a month later that we were all rescued by
the sealing vessel "Awarua". In the dead of night, through
the dark, we heard an anchor chain rattle and splash into
the ocean. We hailed as loud and long as we could, but the
sea was boisterous, coming in from the north east with the
effect of deafening our efforts and blowing our cries ashore.
It was also too rough to chance a row in the boat out to the
ship in the dead of the night, but in the morning we could see
the welcome ship and easily alerted them of our presence.
From here we were in good hands and certain of our survival.
The second stash of supplies with the essentials in it are
probably still hidden, as we dared not tell the others that we
actually had two lots of supplies hidden from them. These
must lie, dry in the shelter we chose and now remain forgotten forever.
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