I looked off in the distance but couldn't see Gordo or Kevin any more. I thought they had figured out that we didn't need to be so far down Panther Reef and they took off for Army Hole.

The wind kept pushing me further away from Jon and Jason (and safety) and the sun was going down. My GPS hadn't worked in days, my radio was gone, and I couldn't find my chart to Army Hole.

I finally gave up, bailed out the water in my boat, sheeted in, and took off for land. Even though land was less than 1/2 mile away, I couldn't reach it as it was dead to windward. All I could do is sail as close to the wind as possible and hope land would curve out to meet me.

Finally, with about 1/2 hour of daylight left, I grounded on an island made of mud. The mud was the consistency of toothpaste, so I stayed in my boat.

I got ahold of Jason via cell phone to let him know I was alive. We decided to abandon the run to Army Hole and head for the safety of the ICW in the morning.

There I was - alone on a desert island, surrounded by screaming gulls and splashing fish. The good news is that I found my map so I knew right were I was and where I needed to go in the morning.

I went to sleep secure in the knowledge that my boat was well found and operating perfectly, that my friends were (probably) safe, that I knew where I was and where I needed to go, and that even alone, I could do this.