When I was at college I was invited to crew a yacht

I jumped at the opportunity but it was an experience

That totally changed my life and me as a person

We had been island hopping for about a week

When we ran into a terrific storm

The yacht was overwhelmed and I was the only survivor

Quite how I survived was and still is a complete mystery

I found myself washed up on a debris strewn beach

Without any memories of my ordeal

I could not even remember my name

After a short time I decided to call myself Zanussi

As I had discovered the remains of a washing machine

It was an easy name to remember in the chaos of my mind

The island that I had been washed up on had once been inhabited

As I found buildings drained of their colour

Bleached in the sun

Although not plentiful there were sources of food

Fruit became my staple diet and I sometimes caught a fish

In time I became used to the island and fancied myself as a Crusoe

Who would find his Friday and teach him civilised ways

How wrong I was as after a month I saw a negro unloading a dinghy

My first instinct was fall into his arms and request rescue

But something was not right as he was soon joined by another negro

They seems to be storing packages in a building not far from the beach

This occurred about every ten days

They spent about three or four hours on the island and then left

I always made myself scarce during these visits

But I became used to them and soon became careless

As one day when I was having a shit in the sea

A tall negro who I had never seen before

Approached me with a rifle

He told me to return to the beach and lay on my back

I knew what was going to happen

It was as he was unbuttoning his pants

That a shot rang out and his head exploded in front of me

By then I was hysterical

I was screaming with fear

It was then I spotted his assassin in the shallows

His rifle was pointing at me but nothing happened

I had expected a cruel execution

But the negro in the shallows gestured for me to stand

I still expected my execution

He walked towards me

I closed my eyes and expected that at best

I would be violated in the minutes before my death

But this did not happen

The negro just stood and looked at me

I glanced at the bloody face of his accomplice

In short nothing happened

The negro who spoke with an educated English accent

Told me that the man who died was a bad man

Not worthy of the gift of life

He said that not all black men were savages

He offered me a deal which surprised me

If I gave him time to empty the building

Then he would ensure that I was not harmed

He would also tell the authorities that I was on the island

He asked me to forget what had happened

The negro then fired a shot into the air

To alert the others on the island that it was time to leave

For the next few hours I watched as the sea reclaimed the corpse

I was in a state of shock as people had died around me

The island was beginning to frighten me

And I felt a strange vacancy

Consuming each of my days

Within two weeks I had been rescued

The negro had kept his word

For a while I was world news

But it faded and life returned

I was told that my name was Stefanie Sliberwicke

And that the yacht that I had been crewing

Had not been lost

I had been washed overboard

And had by a miracle survived

God had looked after me

I was offered a book deal but declined

As I had nothing to say

I began travelling on the road

With my girlfriend

As I needed to understand reality