The Island Part 5 By Adam Atkinson

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

In August of 2006, Adam Atkinson went missing - he was last seen on a remote island off the coast of Suffolk. All that was found was his log book and a battered camera ...

Wednesday: Oh my head, will them god-forsaken feathered bastards shut the hell up. I'll never drink again! That's the whisky finished and only half way through, nay worries, I can handle it, yeah..... I can handle it. What to do today, erm, where did I put the buggering list. Attach a rope fender to the visitors landing station, should be simple, though it will mean risking no mans land. It's been swooping for the past 3 days now, waiting till I pass, lumbered with tools defenceless and then whoosh sqwauukkkkk. I'm sure it lies in ambush; no it's just a dumb bird matey it can't pre-plan anything.

Or can it, its trajectory's getting lower and on my blind side i.e. attack from the back. Ive got my eye on it now; yeah you listen up gull, no more mister nice volunteer. The son of a bitch it got me, I swear it took 4 passes before layin' in, managed to tear a feather from its foul hide though as it lurched away, score draw Gully boy but the war is far from over.

There's a gale brewing, threatening even, better get on with the job. Landing station's finished, took a lot of elbow grease but then for what, so some middle class "enthusiasts" can enjoy the fruit of my labours. I mean where is the RSPB? Where's there full-time fully-paid wardens? Charity starts at home boyo and this bleak outpost seems to be mine...... for now. Stop it man; you're going off on one, just tired and lonely, only a bit mind.

It's good that I'm here. While others are stuck in the complexities of the human condition I can be myself, yeah, myself with myself. Now where was I? That's it the RSPB, cheeky swines still have the audacity, the AUDACITY to name this Havergate Island. Havergate! haver-break! No one else has been working their arse off; no one else smells like a French trucker, no one else is talking to themselves. Me thinks its time for a military coup.

Time to hit the sack, Maybe its the jitters talkin' but I could have sworn there was something big creeping near the work shed tonight.

Continued .. Part 6

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