The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by United Artists Television, Gladysya Productions and the Columbia Broadcasting System (CBS). The story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
All characters in sexual situations are 18+
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Maintaining a slow but steady pace, the shapely redhead navigated the narrow path through the tropical foliage. Dressed in a white evening gown, she was hardly dressed for this sort of excursion, but the weather was warm and the breeze pleasant. Under a different set of circumstances, the small island around her might have been described as a little bit of paradise, but as much as she wished they were different, the circumstances were what they were, and even paradise could be a prison if it wasn't where you wanted to be.
Six weeks before, the actress had taken what was supposed to be just an afternoon cruise out of Honolulu, a little jaunt that she thought would help her prepare for a role in an upcoming film. But the three hour tour had turned instead into an unending nightmare when the tiny ship found itself tossed about in an unexpected storm, until, badly damaged and no longer seaworthy, it had washed up on the beach of this uncharted deserted island. In that moment, Ginger Grant, rising Hollywood star, found herself just one of seven castaways - marooned God knows where.
Feeling a slight tug on the side of her dress, Ginger paused a moment to free the material from where it had snagged on one of the shrubs that lined the way. Impractical as it was, the evening gown was pretty much the only clothing she had and it wouldn't do to tear it more than she already had. You didn't have to look too carefully to see a dozen previous small tears that had been repaired.
As it was, she had almost missed the cruise entirely, only making it to the dock minutes before the Minnow slipped its moorings. Her week in Hawaii had been paid for by a night club in Waikiki that had picked up the tab in exchange for two shows a night. She had finished the last performance a little after midnight, but instead of heading back to her hotel room, Ginger had spent the night with the Cuban bandleader who was the nightclub's other headliner. Nearly fifty, the former television star was a bit old for her, but charming as hell. He also had, he'd told her with a mischievous smile, a thing for redheads. When she'd finally woken up shortly before noon, there hadn't been time to go back to the hotel to change.
It was becoming more apparent by the day that their stay here on the island was going to be indeterminate, if not permanent. Any search for the Minnow had to have been called off weeks ago, and even if it hadn't, given how far they'd been blown off course, it would take a small miracle for a rescue ship to find them. No, the island and the six people she'd been stranded with were now her world and she was going to have to learn to deal with it.
And quite an eclectic bunch they were. First there was the Captain of the boat, one Jonas Grumby, who everyone just called Skipper. An ex-Navy man in his mid-forties, the slightly overweight sailor had a jovial attitude that helped keep the spirits of the passengers afloat as much as he had the tiny ship during the storm.
Then there was Gilligan, his gangly first mate, who didn't seem to go by any other name. In fact, Ginger still wasn't sure if that was his first or last name. Clumsy and accident prone, the young man nevertheless had a heart of gold and did all he could to make life on the island as bearable as possible.
The movie star had been surprised to find Thurston Howell III and his wife, Eunice, among the passengers. A man of his wealth owned yachts that made the little excursion ship seem like a dinghy. But it turned out the fifty-something business giant was considering acquiring an island tour company and had decided the best way to judge how people enjoyed rides such as the company offered was to take one himself. He'd chosen the tiny independent company to avoid advertising his plans.
Next came a science teacher named Roy Hinckley. About the Skipper's age, he also seemed to enjoy his nickname of the Professor instead of his given name. For a high school teacher, that might've seemed, at least at first, a bit presumptuous, but it turned out to be more than appropriate since he had advanced degrees in several sciences. It seemed that a day didn't go by that he didn't come up with some amazing gadget to make life on the island easier.
The last member of their little community was a nineteen year old store clerk named Mary Ann Summers. Born and raised on her parents' farm, the five foot four brunette had won a trip to Hawaii in a contest, the sightseeing tour being the final item on her itinerary. Afterwards, she planned to take a cab right to the airport for the flight back home to Kansas. That plan had proved fortunate indeed for her as, having brought her suitcase aboard, she'd been left with several changes of clothing. Mr. Howell had also inexplicably arrived dockside with several suitcases and storage chests, all of which he insisted come on board with them. He later explained that he'd done so just to see how the crew dealt with overly demanding passengers.
In an act of generosity, Mary Ann had offered to share what she had with Ginger, even though the older woman was half a head taller and much more endowed. Still, the farm girl was sure some items could be altered, and further suggested that Mrs. Howell might be persuaded to donate a few articles as well, being closer to the actress in height if not figure.
Thankfully, the weather had held up the month and a half they'd been stranded, because acquiring better clothes for Ginger had taken a back seat to the more immediate concerns of food and shelter. In that regard, they had been amazingly lucky. The diverse group brought with them a skill set that seemed practically tailor made for building their little community - almost as if they had all been cast in some Hollywood production.
The Skipper and Gilligan had served together in the Pacific, bringing with them, among other talents, the ability to build native shelters which, while not overly luxurious, did give them a place to live that was dry and comfortable. At first, they had concentrated on just building one large communal hut, but the experience gained there allowed them to add four more smaller structures, giving the passengers a bit more privacy.
Aside from his vast scientific knowledge, which allowed him to repair at least the receiving end of the radio, the Professor had also been a long time scoutmaster with vast experience in camping in the wild. Additionally, his ability to come up with gadgets, using nothing more than what nature provided, was nothing short of phenomenal.
The farm raised Mary Ann was a wonder in the kitchen -well, at least what they had been able to make of one. Even though a great part of their diet consisted of fish, coconuts and assorted fruits, mixed with the occasional wild game one of them managed to catch, she ensured their meals were enjoyable and not just necessary for survival. She even managed to make a sort of banana cream pie that quickly became everyone's favorite.
As for the Howells, well, a lifetime of having others do everything for you ill equipped them for roughing it, but surprisingly they were willing to chip in as much as the rest of the band, sometimes a bit reluctantly perhaps, but eventually doing their share. In the end they developed a certain satisfaction in actually doing things for themselves for the first time.
