( a fictional story about fictional characters)
(I realize the audience for this story is limited, but I grew up when this show was originally on TV and always had a crush on the Mary Ann character. Hope some of the older readers enjoy it. Who was your favorite: Ginger or Mary Ann?)
As Mary Ann strolled along one of the now well-worn paths through the lush tropical foliage gathering coconuts for, yet another, meal of some sort of banana/coconut cuisine; she was reflecting on the time the seven passengers of the SS Minnow had spent on the island after being shipwrecked by a furious storm. In some ways it seemed like yesterday when their "three-hour-tour" had been rudely interrupted by one of the worst squalls that the Skipper had ever seen; and in other aspects, it seemed like they had been marooned on the island for an eternity. In some respects, she guessed they were very lucky: none of the boats passengers or crew had been injured when the boat ran aground; the island, under any other circumstances, was a virtual paradise, with a fresh water source and plenty of food; and they had become very adept at self-sufficiency. Also, they had all become good friends who could be counted on to always help each other.
Gathering the coconuts also reminded her of how she no longer took many things for granted. The simple coconut: sometimes it seemed like they used it for just about everything. The shells, of course could be cut and used for bowls, cups, dippers, even helmets. Ginger had once even used two halves for a bikini top. The milk was a source of so many vitamins and nutrients. The pulp,or meat, was delicious and the Professor had shown them that if you squeezed the meat, you could extract the coconut oil. This was used for everything from cooking and burning as lamp oil, to keeping their metal tools from rusting. It kept their skin from cracking under the tropical sun, and was a wonderful lubricant. They kept a bowl of it handy always. She would have never known how versatile the plain coconut could be.
Her "hut-mate," Ginger Grant, was a beautiful, famous Hollywood actress, who never failed to enthrall her with tales of other actors and "Tinseltown." If you didn't know Ginger, your first impression would be that she was self-absorbed and narcissistic; but she was actually very friendly and insecure. Thurston Howell (the 3rd), and his ditzy wife Lovey were millionaires, and the stay on the island had brought their egos down to earth... somewhat. She thought it must be the hardest on them, because they were used to a life of complete luxury; never having to do anything for themselves. The fourth passenger was Dr. Roy Hinkley, but everyone just called him "Professor." She would never admit it to anyone, but she had developed a crush on this genius. She sometimes wondered though, of all the inventions (some of them life-saving) he had concocted on the island; why is it that he could not design a simple raft to get them off the island. She remembered reading in high school that primitive islanders had traveled thousands of miles on simple rafts made from reeds and bamboo.
The crew consisted of the Skipper, whose real name was Jonus Grumby; and his first-mate Gilligan. The Skipper had been on boats and ships all his life, and was the true authority figure on the island; she guessed that he would be considered their leader. Gilligan was the sweetest, nicest person she had ever met; but he was also the clumsiest, most incompetent sailor on earth. Although completely unintentional, it seemed like every time they had a slim opportunity to escape the island prison; Gilligan would always do something to foil them. "Poor Gilligan," she thought, "he always seemed to get stuck with the worst, dirtiest jobs on the island." They were supposed to take turns with "latrine duty," but sweet Gilligan almost always volunteered to take the others' turns. They had a small hut which contained a sunken pail under a stool with a hole in it. This was their toilet, and twice a week someone took the pail far into the jungle, dug a hole, and buried the contents. It was a distasteful job and Mary Ann figured Gilligan volunteered for it as a way of compensating for the guilt he felt about them still being shipwrecked.
Just as she had almost filled her canvas bag with coconuts, a frantic Gilligan, with the radio pressed against his ear, went rushing by shouting, "Skipper, Skipper."
"Now what," she thought, as she hurried after him.
When they reached the clearing where all the huts were located, everyone had heard his yelling and were gathered around the, centrally located, dinner table. Out of breath, and gasping, Gilligan handed the radio to the Skipper, who set it on the table, and joined everyone in listening to the news report: " a maritime tribunal has concluded that the loss of the SS Minnow was solely attributed to incompetence, and negligence of the ship's captain, Jonas Grumby."
The Professor swiftly shut the radio off, and everyone, stunned, just stared at the Skipper; waiting for his reaction. Having lived through the violent storm, absolutely none of the castaways put any blame on the Skipper. Mr. Howell's first thought after listening to the radio was that the first thing he was going to do after being rescued, was to buy the company that made the batteries in their radio, because the charge seemed eternal. The Skippers shoulders slumped forward and down, and he dropped into the nearest chair. He removed his hat and twisted it in his hands, as he looked from one castaway to the next.
The Professor was the first to speak, "why that's just preposterous Skipper; we all know there was nothing you could do."
"Why that's downright slander," Mr. Howell added, "when we get back to civilization, I'll have my lawyers sue those scoundrels."
"That's right Skipper, you saved our lives," Mary Ann said, attempting to sooth him.
"I don't know what to say everybody," the Skipper stated solemnly, "but if the maritime court says I'm to blame, then so be it."
Everyone continued to try to comfort him for several minutes, until the Skipper said he wanted to be alone, and he wandered off into the jungle. All afternoon, anytime one of the group saw the Skipper, they would try to soothe his ego; but he just moped around and sighed. He just sat by the lagoon and didn't join them for dinner, which gave them an opportunity to discuss the situation. Mr. Howell asked the Professor what his opinion was on Skipper's mental state. "Well, I only minored in Psychology," answered the Professor, "but in such cases of extreme emotional trauma; it is not unprecedented for the individual to entertain thoughts of suicide. Depression can be a powerful feeling."
"We have to do something to cheer him up," Gilligan said; echoing all their thoughts.
"I know what always cheers me up," Ginger suggested, "let's throw him a party to show him how much we appreciate him."
