We've been on the island for three days, and we're getting pretty desperate for food. Most of us are resorting to looking under rocks for shellfish or whatever we can find. I managed to find a few small clams or mussels or whatever they are. They are not easy to open, and they're really gross to eat, but I've reached the point where I'm willing to eat anything. But we're pretty much done picking stuff off the rocks, so we need to figure out how to make tools to catch fish or something. It's also possible that there may be fruit on trees in the jungle, but so far none of us are willing to venture inland, for fear of encountering those mysterious people. Fortunately, there's been no sign of those people since the first night, but we're still taking precautions to defend ourselves. Last night, we had two people guarding the camp constantly throughout the night, taking turns in two-hour shifts, and nobody wanders away from the camp alone, so we go to the bathroom in pairs.
I don't know how much longer we can survive like this. Three people have already died in the last two days, probably from infections or internal injuries. We've started a makeshift cemetery on the beach.
I've started getting to know some of my fellow survivors. Jim is a lab technician at a hospital in Arizona, and Eli is a technical writer for a company in California that makes electronic PIN-pads. Both of them lost loved ones in the crash, which is making this whole situation a lot harder for them. It makes me feel fortunate that I was traveling alone.
Oh, and I just have to say... Ana-Lucia, that outspoken woman who's been acting like she runs the whole camp, is really starting to get on my nerves. I mean, I agree with most of the decisions she's been making, but it's like she just tells us all how we're going to do things, like she's some high-ranking military officer or something. Maybe she is in real life.