Richard Durkis and Kent Wills sat atop the rocky bluff overlooking the relative safety of a small lagoon on the leeward side of the island. They quietly stared down toward the rocky outcropping which could almost be called a natural jetty. On that jetty was a group of three woman and one man who were trying their best to reel in the night's meal with homemade fishing poles. Both men were shaggy and unshaven, a point which the older of the two, Kent, liked to needle Richard.
"I thought you disliked facial hair."
Richard shrugged, "Stopped shaving."
"I see that. Finally embracing your mountain man status?"
Richard scowled, "Can't find any more razors on the ship. Supplies are decimated."
"Hmm," Kent nodded, "you know what it is? The women. They probably hoarded as many razors as they could find for their armpits and legs."
Richard smiled ruefully, "Stockpiling for the apocalypse."
Kent chuckled, "Right."
"Has Trent come back yet with the hunting party?"
The smile quickly left Kent's face as he shook his head, "No."
Richard sighed and looked up to the brilliant orange and pink clouds which floated through yet another panoramic sunset. He barely noticed them anymore, "Hunting parties are taking longer lately."
"Uh-huh, and with less success than we had a month or two ago."
Both men were quiet for a while, awash in the sounds of the gentle surf below. Finally Richard asked, "How big do you suppose this island is?"
Kent shook his head, "I have no idea. The next time you're on a boat you gotta make sure to buddy up with the smart guy."
"Even Gilligan had the Professor."
They were quiet again, watching the setting sun set the ocean ablaze with reds and yellows. After a while Richard said, tentatively, "Because I'm worried."
Kent eyed him for a moment before he responded, "About running out of food?"
Kent looked away, squinted toward the horizon, though he had long since given up any hope of rescue. A small group of some of the younger women exited the jungle, which caught his attention. One of the girls, Jenny, had been acting strange recently, and Kent watched her intently, wondering what might be going on there. He eventually let her go and got back to his conversation with Richard. He nodded and said quietly, "That concern is not without merit."
"We can't farm" Richard added, "because this whole island is nothing more than a big boulder in the middle of the sea."
"We'd have nothing to plant in any case," Kent reminded the younger man.
Richard sighed heavily, "It's so frustrating."
"It is," Kent agreed.
Richard looked out, past the lagoon, where the useless cruise ship sat anchored about a mile out. Originally, someone had gotten the bright idea to set the boat alight and hope that someone saw the smoke from a passing freighter or overhead airplane, until reason set in and they extinguished the fire. Still, the ship spun lazily in the tides with several black streaks adorning the topside decks, the scars of some past stupidity.
"How do you lose a boat?"
"The cruise ship," Richard motioned toward the sea, "how can you lose something that big and not come looking for it?"
"Radio got busted, remember?"
"Oh come on," Richard soured, "I know planes have that little black box in the cockpit. Are you telling me that ships don't have the same thing on board every ship in the world, pinging away until some satellite picks us up? And speaking of satellites, there are enough spooks floating around up there to take high-def pictures of Hollywood starlets having rooftop sex four days out of the week, but they can't find a big white boat floating around the Pacific for over a year? I call 'Shenanigans.'"