The campfire crackled merrily, sending dancing light over the seven figures seated on blankets on the sand. Overhead the stars winked and sparkled in the night sky.
Wrapped in a blanket, Gilligan sat nursing a bowl of warm soup and digging his bare heels into the sand. The Skipper hadn't changed clothes; he said he hadn't minded getting wet, but he had insisted that Gilligan get completely dry. And so Gilligan found himself looking very grand in Mr. Howell's cashmere pajamas, while watching his familiar red rugby shirt and jeans drying by the fire. The other castaways sipped at their soup, laughing and chatting in low voices.
The Skipper ruffled his young first mate's dark hair. "It's a good thing there's that extra Dixie cup hat of yours in my sea chest, Gilligan, because I'd say that one is gone for good."
Gilligan raised his eyebrows. "That's for sure, Skipper. Gosh, I thought I was gone for good a lot of times today. I still can't believe I'm really here."
His friends looked at each other and nodded. Every one of them had been thinking the same thing.
"I know I wouldn't be here if you hadn't carried in me in, Skipper, and if you and the Professor hadn't gone in and gotten me. I couldn't even move anymore."
The Skipper clasped his shoulder and momentarily pulled him close. "You were real navy, little buddy. I'm proud of you."
"Thanks, Skipper. You know, I kept hearing your voice from our navy days. You kept telling me what to do, and to keep calm. It was like you were there with me."
The Skipper's breath hitched a little and he looked quickly at the sand. "Well…in a way, I was. We all were. We were watching you every step of the way."
"You were? Wow! Was that how you knew enough to ring the bell? Boy, I'd gotten to the point where I couldn't even see! I was just following the bell! Whose idea was that?"
"Why, the Professor's," said Mr. Howell. "That man is simply a genius."
The Professor laughed, embarrassed. "Oh, come now, Mr. Howell. You and Mrs. Howell and Ginger rang it, and Ginger kept watch to tell you when to start. And it was Ginger who first thought of helping Gilligan reach this cove. We all share the credit." He looked back at Gilligan. "Tell me, Gilligan, how did you know enough to start swimming in the direction of the island? We saw you swimming out to sea and tried desperately to get your attention, but nothing worked!"
Gilligan blinked. "You were trying to get my attention? Boy, if I'd only known! What did you do?"
Ginger pointed. "Mary Ann thought of a fire. We tried sending up a smoke signal, but then the wind blew all the smoke away."
"And the Professor thought of the conch shells, but you couldn't hear them," Mary Ann added. "It was just too rough out there."
"So how did you find the island, little buddy?" asked the Skipper.
"It was the albatross, Skipper," Gilligan said, as though he expected the Skipper to understand.
The others all looked at one another. "Albatross?"
"Yeah!" Gilligan looked at them, a bit confused. "It was huge! Didn't you see it?"
He was met with blank stares. "No, Gilligan," said the Professor. "I'm sure we'd have noticed it."
Gilligan was truly flummoxed now. "But it was the biggest bird I've ever seen! It flew right over the island! It even led me here to this safe cove! You must have seen it!"
But his friends all looked at each other, shrugging and shaking their heads. "Gilligan, we were watching the sea like hawks," said the Professor gently. "We never saw any bird, and certainly not an albatross."
Mary Ann piped up. "But we did see the dolphins, Gilligan. We took turns looking through the telescope at them! It was so wonderful, the way they protected you!"
Now it was Gilligan's turn to look incredulous. "Dolphins?"
Again his friends all looked at each other. "Yes, Gilligan, you must have seen them," said the Skipper. "That's what saved you from the sharks! They drove them off! And then they stayed with you until you made the cove!"
Gilligan shook his head. "So that's what it was! I couldn't figure out why those sharks left me alone!" He shuddered for a moment, recalling the terrible creatures. "But those sharks were awful close. That one was only a few yards away from me! If there were dolphins there, I'm sure I would have seen them! So why couldn't I…and why couldn't you--" He stopped and shot a look at each of his friends, his eyes wide and almost fearful. "Hey, what's going on? What happened to me out there?" He turned and stared out at the black abyss that was the night and the sea.
Nobody answered. The castaways all looked out at the darkness, edging a little closer to the fire and to one another as they half-listened for voices in the distant boom of the surf.
At last Mary Ann broke the silence. "When we were up on the hill, the Skipper said that somebody sent you lifeguards. I believe it."
Gilligan looked back at the fire, light and shadow flickering in his eyes. Almost to himself, he whispered, "Sure some kind saint took pity on me, and I bless'd them unaware…"
The Skipper sat up. "What's that, little buddy?"
"It's that poem, Skipper, the one you're always reading to me. About the sailor that gets lost out at sea. What's it called again?"
"Oh – that's 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'."
"Yeah, that's it." Gilligan looked keenly at him. "Skipper, do you remember towards the ending? The part where the mariner's telling the Wedding Guest about how he's so glad to be back?"
The Skipper thought a moment, then smiled. "I think I know the part you mean." He sat up and began to recite in his deep, gentle voice:
O Wedding Guest! This soul hath been
Alone on a wide, wide sea:
So lonely 'twas, that God Himself
Scarce seemed there to be.
O sweeter far than the marriage-feast,
'Tis sweeter far to me,
To walk together to the kirk
With a goodly company!
Gilligan nodded, eyes bright. "That's it exactly, Skipper," he said softly. He raised his bowl like a chalice. "Everybody, I'd like to propose a toast: To a goodly company – to everyone and everything that saved me. To the Lifeguards."
The castaways raised their bowls solemnly. "To the Lifeguards!"
And far out in the deep the dolphins sang, while above the albatross cried low and soared off over the dark sea.