As time passed and no more canoes appeared, my fear of another attack gradually faded. I began to reconsider my former plans of voyaging to the mainland. Friday’s father assured me that, because of my kindness to him, I could expect a warm welcome from his people. However, my plans were put on hold after a serious conversation with the Spaniard. I learned that there were sixteen more of his countrymen—Spaniards and Portuguese—who had been shipwrecked and had escaped to the mainland. Although they lived at peace with the natives, they were in a desperate situation, struggling to find even the most basic necessities of life.
I inquired about the details of their voyage and discovered they had been on a Spanish ship traveling from Rio de la Plata to Havana. Their cargo consisted mainly of silver and leather, and they were supposed to return with European goods. They had rescued five Portuguese sailors from another wreck before their own ship was lost. Five of their own men had drowned, and the survivors had endured infinite dangers before reaching the coast. Once there, they lived in constant terror of being devoured by the cannibals. The Spaniard told me they had some weapons, but these were useless because their gunpowder had been ruined by seawater, except for a small amount used to hunt for food upon their arrival.
I asked him what he thought would become of them and if they had any plan to escape. He replied that they had held many consultations, but since they lacked tools, a vessel, and provisions, their discussions always ended in despair. I then asked how they might react to a proposal from me. I admitted my concerns quite openly: I feared they might betray me if I placed my life in their hands. I remarked that gratitude is not always a natural virtue, and men often act out of self-interest rather than obligation. It would be a cruel irony if I became the instrument of their delivery, only to be taken as a prisoner to the Spanish colonies. In those days, an Englishman was often treated as a sacrifice to the Inquisition; I told him I would rather be eaten alive by savages than fall into the merciless claws of the priests.
The Spaniard responded with great sincerity and professional honesty. He believed their condition was so miserable that they would never dream of mistreating someone who helped them escape. He suggested that he and Friday’s father could go to them and discuss my proposal. He promised to make them swear a solemn oath to remain under my command as their captain. They would have to sign a formal contract, swearing upon the Holy Sacraments to follow my orders until they were safely landed in a Christian country. He even offered to swear his own personal loyalty to me, promising to defend me to the last drop of his blood if any of his countrymen broke their word.
Encouraged by these assurances, I resolved to try to rescue them. However, just as we were preparing to leave, the Spaniard raised a very sensible objection. He had lived with us for a month and had seen how I provided for my small "family." While I had a good stock of corn and rice, it was only enough for the four of us. If sixteen more men arrived, our supplies would vanish instantly. Furthermore, we would need a massive amount of food to victual a ship for a long voyage. He suggested that we wait another six months for the next harvest. By cultivating more land now, we could ensure that the arrival of his countrymen did not lead to a famine. "You know," he remarked, "that even the children of Israel, though they rejoiced at being delivered from Egypt, rebelled against God when they lacked bread in the wilderness."
I was impressed by his foresight and followed his advice. All four of us began the exhausting work of digging and preparing the soil using our improvised wooden tools. Within a month, we had sown twenty-two bushels of barley and sixteen jars of rice. This used up almost all our seed, leaving us with just enough food to survive until the next harvest.
With four of us now working together, we felt secure enough to explore the island freely. Deliverance was always on my mind. I selected several large trees, and Friday and his father cut them down. Under the Spaniard’s direction, they labored intensely to hew the timber into planks. They eventually produced a dozen large oak planks, each about thirty-five feet long and several inches thick. The amount of physical labor required for this task was enormous.
Simultaneously, I worked to increase my flock of tame goats. Friday and the Spaniard took turns hunting with me so that we could capture young kids to breed. We also prepared for the grape harvest. We gathered a massive quantity of grapes and hung them in the sun to dry. If we had been in a commercial port like Alicante, we could have filled eighty barrels with these raisins. They were a vital part of our diet—wholesome, nourishing, and delicious.
When the harvest finally arrived, the results were successful. We managed to produce over two hundred and twenty bushels of barley and a proportional amount of rice. This was more than enough to feed twenty people until the following year, or to provide supplies for a long sea voyage. Once the grain was secured in the large wicker baskets the Spaniard had skillfully made, I decided it was time.
I gave the Spaniard and Friday’s father permission to go to the mainland. I gave them strict instructions: they were not to bring anyone back who would not first swear a solemn oath to be loyal to me. They were provided with muskets, powder, and enough bread and dried grapes for themselves and the other sixteen men for about eight days. It was a joyful moment; for the first time in over twenty-seven years, I was taking active steps toward my rescue. They set sail in October, under a full moon, leaving me to wait in anticipation.
I had been waiting for eight days when an extraordinary event occurred. I was fast asleep in my house one morning when Friday came running in, shouting, "Master, master, they are come!" I jumped up and, forgetting my usual caution, ran out without my weapons. To my astonishment, I saw a boat about four miles away, sailing toward the shore. However, I noticed it was coming from the southern end of the island, not from the direction of the mainland.
I told Friday to stay hidden, as these were not the people we expected. I fetched my telescope and climbed the hill to get a better view. To my shock, I saw an English ship anchored about three leagues away. The boat approaching the shore was an English long-boat.
I cannot describe the rush of emotions I felt. The joy of seeing a ship from my own country was overwhelming, yet a secret voice in my mind warned me to be on my guard. I wondered why an English ship would be in this part of the world, far from any established trade routes. There had been no storms to drive them off course. I realized that if they were here, it was likely for a suspicious reason. I decided it was safer to remain hidden than to fall into the hands of potential criminals.
Events soon confirmed my suspicions. The boat landed on the beach about half a mile from my "castle." Eleven men stepped onto the shore. I could see that three of them were unarmed and appeared to be prisoners. One of the three was gesturing wildly, appearing to be in a state of absolute despair, while the other two seemed deeply concerned but more composed. Friday turned to me and whispered, "Master, do English men eat prisoners too?" I assured him that while they might be murderers, they were certainly not cannibals.
The seamen began to wander around the island, leaving the three prisoners alone. The poor men sat on the ground, looking completely hopeless. Seeing them reminded me of my first night on the island, when I believed I was doomed. They had no idea that help was so close, just as I had not known how Providence would provide for me all those years ago.
It was high tide when they landed, and the sailors had carelessly allowed their boat to go aground as the water receded. When they returned to the boat and realized they couldn't launch it because of its weight and the soft sand, they simply gave up. "Let her alone, Jack," I heard one shout. "She’ll float during the next tide." This confirmed they were indeed English.
I knew it would be ten hours before the tide returned. This gave me time to prepare. I armed myself and Friday heavily. I wore my goat-skin coat and my large hat, with a sword at my side and a gun on each shoulder. Around two o’clock, during the heat of the day, I saw that the sailors had scattered into the woods to sleep. The three prisoners, however, remained sitting under a tree nearby.
I decided to reveal myself. I approached them and asked in Spanish, "What are ye, gentlemen?" They jumped up, terrified by my bizarre appearance. I quickly switched to English. "Do not be afraid," I said. "You may have a friend near you whom you did not expect."
"He must be sent directly from heaven, then," one of them replied, taking off his hat, "for our situation is beyond human help."
"All help is from heaven," I replied. "But I am a man, an Englishman, and I want to help you. What has happened?"
The man explained, with tears in his eyes, that he was the captain of the ship. His crew had mutinied against him. They had originally intended to kill him, but had eventually decided to leave him on this "deserted" island along with his mate and a passenger. I asked where the mutineers were. He pointed to a thicket where they lay sleeping. He was terrified they would wake up and murder us all.
I proposed two conditions for my help: first, that while they remained on the island, they would follow my orders; and second, that if we recovered the ship, they would give me and Friday free passage to England. The captain agreed immediately, promising his lifelong gratitude and complete loyalty.
I gave them muskets and ammunition. The captain was reluctant to kill his men if it could be avoided, but he admitted that two of them were "incorrigible villains" who had led the mutiny. As we were speaking, two of the sailors woke up. "There is your chance," I whispered. The captain and his two companions moved forward. One of the mutineers was killed instantly, and the captain knocked the other unconscious with the butt of his musket. The remaining three men, seeing they were defeated, begged for mercy. The captain agreed to spare their lives on the condition that they help him recover the ship.
While this was happening, I sent Friday and the mate to secure the boat. They removed the oars, the sail, and the rudder. Later, three other sailors who had been wandering elsewhere returned. Seeing their captain now in control, they surrendered and were bound like the others.
Our victory was complete. I shared my long history with the captain, who listened with absolute amazement. When he saw how I had been preserved on the island for twenty-eight years, he was moved to tears, believing I had been kept alive specifically to save him. I showed him my fortress and my "country seat," though our primary focus remained the ship. He warned me that there were still twenty-six men on board. Since they had committed mutiny—a crime punishable by death—they would likely fight to the end.
We realized that the rest of the crew would soon come looking for their missing comrades. To prevent them from escaping, we decided to disable the boat on the beach. We smashed a hole in its bottom and took everything of value out of it, including some brandy, sugar, and gunpowder. Even if we could not recover the ship, I hoped we could eventually repair the boat and use it to reach the Spanish colonies. For the first time in decades, the prospect of returning home felt like a real possibility.