When I returned to the ship, I found that its position had shifted strangely. The forecastle, which had previously been buried in the sand, was now elevated at least six feet. Meanwhile, the stern—which had been smashed to pieces and separated from the rest of the ship—was tossed onto its side. The earthquake had piled the sand so high near the stern that I could now walk directly up to the wreck at low tide, whereas before I would have had to swim a quarter of a mile. I soon concluded that the violent shaking of the earth, along with the force of the sea, had broken the ship open even further. Consequently, many items were being loosened and washed ashore daily.
This discovery completely distracted me from my plan to move my habitation. I spent the following days busying myself with the wreck, searching for a way into the hull. However, I found the interior almost entirely obstructed by sand. Nevertheless, having learned never to give in to despair, I resolved to pull the ship apart piece by piece, believing that every scrap of material would eventually prove useful.
May 3.—Using my saw, I managed to cut through a large beam that held part of the upper deck together. I cleared away as much sand as possible from the highest side, but the rising tide soon forced me to stop.
May 4.—I went fishing to vary my diet, but I caught nothing edible for several hours. Just as I was about to give up, I caught a young dolphin. I had made a long line out of rope-yarn, and although I lacked proper hooks, I frequently managed to catch enough fish to sustain myself. I dried them in the sun and ate them without further cooking.
May 5–14.—I worked tirelessly on the wreck. I cut through more beams and salvaged three large fir planks, which I floated to the shore. I also managed to recover several iron bolts and other metal fittings. The work was exhausting; there were moments when I felt so tired that I considered abandoning the task altogether. However, I persisted, using an iron crowbar to pry up the deck planks. Day after day, I returned to the ship, eventually collecting several hundredweight of iron and a significant amount of timber.
May 15.—I attempted to cut a piece from a large roll of lead I had found. I tried to use one hatchet as a chisel and hit it with another, but since the lead was submerged under a foot of water, the resistance was too great to make a meaningful dent.
June 15.—By this time, I had gathered enough timber, planks, and ironwork to build a sturdy boat, if only I had possessed the skill to do so. I had also salvaged nearly one hundred pounds of sheet lead in various pieces.
June 16.—While walking along the shore, I discovered a large sea turtle. This was the first one I had seen, though I later realized they were abundant on the other side of the island.
June 17.—I spent the day cooking the turtle. Inside, I found sixty eggs. After months of eating nothing but goats and wild birds, the turtle meat was the most delicious and savory meal I had ever tasted.
June 18.—It rained all day, so I stayed inside. I noticed that the rain felt unusually cold, and I began to feel a strange chill, which was rare for this tropical latitude.
June 19.—I felt very ill, shivering as if I were in a cold climate.
June 20.—I spent a sleepless night with a violent headache and a burning fever.
June 21.—My condition worsened. I was terrified at the thought of being sick with no one to help me. For the first time in years, I attempted to pray, though my thoughts were so confused that I hardly knew what I was saying.
June 22–25.—The illness, which I recognized as a violent ague, or malarial fever, continued to plague me. I experienced cycles of intense shivering followed by hours of burning heat and exhaustion. On my "better" days, I was so weak that I could barely walk, but I managed to kill a goat for food. I desperately wanted to make a nutritious broth, but I still had no pot in which to boil water.
June 27.—The fever returned with such severity that I lay in bed all day without food or drink. I was dying of thirst, yet I lacked the strength to stand up. I cried out to God for mercy, repeating the same desperate pleas for hours until I finally fell into a deep, troubled sleep.
In this sleep, I had a terrifying dream. I thought I was sitting outside my wall when a man descended from a massive black cloud, surrounded by bright flames. His expression was so dreadful that I could barely look at him. When he stepped onto the ground, the earth trembled as it had during the earthquake. He moved toward me with a long spear, and in a voice more terrible than I can describe, he said: "Since all these warnings have not brought you to repentance, now you shall die." He then lifted his spear to kill me.
When I awoke, the horror of the vision remained etched in my mind. I realized then how spiritually empty I had become. For eight years, I had lived a life of "seafaring wickedness," surrounded by people as profane as myself. I had never once looked toward God in gratitude or reflection. Even when I was saved from the African coast, or when I was the sole survivor of the shipwreck on this island, I had viewed it all as mere luck. I had acted like a brute, driven only by basic survival and common sense, without any sense of providence.
But now, faced with the prospect of death, my conscience finally woke up. I began to reproach myself for my past life. I remembered my father’s warning: that if I took this foolish path, I would find myself alone with no one to help me in my distress. "Now," I cried out, "my father’s words have come true. God’s justice has overtaken me."
June 28.—Feeling slightly refreshed after my sleep, I prepared for the return of the fever. I filled a large bottle with water and mixed in some rum to help with the chills. For dinner, I roasted three turtle eggs in the ashes. This was the first time in my life that I remember asking for God's blessing before a meal.
As I sat looking at the calm sea, I began to wonder about the origins of the world. I concluded that everything must have been created and guided by a supreme Power. If God created everything, He must also know my current condition. My conscience then checked me: “How can you ask why God has done this to you? Look at your wasted life. Why were you not drowned in the previous storms? Why were you spared when everyone else died?” I was struck dumb by these thoughts and returned to my cave in a pensive mood.
Searching for a cure for my fever, I remembered that the Brazilians used tobacco for almost all illnesses. I found a chest containing some cured tobacco and, more importantly, a Bible I had salvaged but never opened. I experimented with the tobacco—chewing it, steeping it in rum, and even inhaling the smoke. While doing this, I opened the Bible randomly and read these words: "Call on Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."
At first, the idea of "deliverance" seemed impossible. I wondered if even God could rescue me from such a remote place. However, the words made a deep impression. Before going to bed, I did something I had never done: I knelt and prayed for God to fulfill His promise. I then drank the rum-tobacco mixture, which was so strong it nearly choked me. I fell into a deep sleep that lasted nearly two entire days.
When I finally woke up on June 29, I felt remarkably refreshed and cheerful. My appetite returned, and the fever fits began to disappear.
July 3.—The fever was completely gone, though I remained weak for several weeks. During my recovery, I realized I had been ungrateful. I had been praying for deliverance from the island, but I had ignored the fact that God had already delivered me from sickness and death. I knelt down and thanked Him aloud for my recovery.
July 4.—I began to read the New Testament seriously, deciding to read for a period every morning and night. As I read, I felt a deep remorse for my past sins. I came across the passage describing Jesus as a Savior sent to give repentance and forgiveness. I cried out, "Jesus, give me repentance!"
For the first time, I felt a true sense of hope. I began to understand "deliverance" in a new way. It was no longer just about escaping the island; it was about being delivered from the weight of my own guilt. My solitary life now seemed like a small matter compared to the peace I found in my soul. My way of living had not changed, but my mind was at ease. I realized that deliverance from sin is a much greater blessing than deliverance from physical affliction.