Walt Read Online Free PDF Page A

Tristan, as you no doubt recall, is more than two thousand miles from any other landmass. It might seem apparent that this was not a well-prepared or provisioned journey.
    Since oars were the little boat’s only means of propulsion, Walt was compelled to look continually over the transom. He had no choice but to look back at Tristan all the while as he rowed away. Walt was not sentimental, but he became aware for perhaps the first time in his life of the enormity of the unknown.
    For some reason he also felt no fear. Walt had spent his whole life in this small boat, but that was only in the waters immediately surrounding the island that was his home. He was aware of the dangers of the sea, but now felt no concern for them. His own survival had not occurred to him as an issue in getting ready to leave.
    He had rowed for less than half an hour when the boat became caught in a strong current. Not seeing any reason in fighting, he let go of his oars and abandoned himself to the will of the sea.
    At this point one might well consider Walt a goner. His chances for survival must seem very slim indeed.
    After three or four hours at sea, just about the time Walt began to get his first real pangs of hunger and thirst, even he began to experience a dimming of his hopes.
    Soon a squall blew up from the south. Walt’s little boat was tossed by the sea. The rain began to fall. Here Walt made what was perhaps the best decision of his life. Deciding to sacrifice comfort for a better chance of survival, he took off his rubber boots.
    He set them in the prow of the boat. By the time the rain cleared, after about an hour of heavy downpour, he had almost three inches of potable water in each boot. Walt realized that this would be enough water to keep him alive for at least a day. With the frequency of rainfall in this part of the ocean, he supposed that with some care he might well be able to catch enough water to keep him alive.
    That left only the problem of food. This problem, too, solved itself in an unexpected manner. After some twelve hours at sea, when Walt was beginning to get very hungry indeed, a sixty pound Albacore tuna jumped into the boat, very nearly capsizing it.
    Walt was surprised at having a creature so large suddenly decide to be his companion. He put out the oars to add stability to the tiny craft. He then pulled a rusty fishing knife from the bottom of the boat and stabbed the fish repeatedly until it stopped thrashing.
    It never once crossed Walt’s mind during this encounter that he might be manifesting incredibly bad manners by killing the only seagoing companion he had ever had. It also took a moment for him to realize that the fish, which he had thought of to that point only as an intruder, could also be a source of food.
    Thus was established the pattern of Walt’s life that would continue for the next five days. He kept his boots at all times ready to catch rainwater and sliced off a portion of the tuna whenever he became hungry. At night he lashed the oars in such a way that they acted as outriggers to give the boat more stability. He slept only fitfully.
    In his survival, Walt felt for the first time in his life fortunate. He congratulated himself several times every day on his imagination in gathering water and in small things like tying knots. He had no vision for anything beyond surviving each day. He did not even get around to questioning his reasons for leaving the island, even though he had plenty of time to do so.
    For practically any other human, those days alone at sea would have been torturous: drinking the fetid water from Walt’s none-too-sanitary boots, eating slices from the decaying tuna, bits of rust from the knife embedding into each slice. The solitude alone would have tried the sanity of most.
    Walt, however, was not like most people. He felt relieved by the solitude. For the first time in his memory, there was no one around to taunt him or make him feel uncomfortable. He felt no compulsion