I went back twelve times, but soon after my twelfth visit there was another terrible storm. The next morning, when I looked out to sea, there was no ship.
When I saw that, I was very unhappy. ‘Why am I alive, and why are all my friends dead?’ I asked myself. ‘What will happen to me now, alone on this island without friends? How can I ever escape from it?’
Then I told myself that I was lucky – lucky to be alive, lucky to have food and tools, lucky to be young and strong. But I knew that my island was somewhere off the coast of South America. Ships did not often come down this coast, and I said to myself, ‘I’m going to be on this island for a long time.’ So, on a long piece of wood, I cut these words :
I CAME HERE ON 30TH SEPTEMBER 1659
After that, I decided to make a cut for each day.
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