Back at the beach

Back at the beach, the Professor and the Skipper had finished constructing a basic lean-to. Sweat soaked through the Professor’s button-up shirt as he tied the final knot. “Now we just need two more huts. I figure one for the Howells, one for the girls, and one for us, gentlemen.” The Skipper said, “I’ve found enough bamboo and palm leaves for that. We’ll have to go farther away to find more to build the more permanent huts.”

The Professor glanced up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. "We'd better hurry. Nightfall comes quickly in the tropics, and we'll want everyone to have shelter before dark."

"Aye-aye, Professor," the Skipper replied, wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "I've been through storms at sea, but something about being stranded makes me more uneasy than a cat in a dog pound."

As they worked, the sound of rustling vegetation announced the return of the Howells. Mrs. Howell emerged from the jungle first, her designer dress now sporting several tears and her hair disheveled.

"We've found water!" she announced triumphantly, as if she'd discovered oil on her property.

Mr. Howell stumbled out behind her, looking considerably worse for wear. "Yes, quite a nice little waterfall. I'd rate it three stars. Would be four if it had proper service."

The Professor immediately perked up. "Fresh water? That's excellent news. Was it far from here?"

"Just a short walk, my good man," Mr. Howell replied, gesturing vaguely toward the jungle. "Though I must say, the lack of proper pathways is simply barbaric. When we get back to civilization, I shall write a strongly worded letter to whoever owns this island."

The Skipper chuckled despite himself. "Well, at least we won't die of thirst.”