Juan Fernandez IslandNow available in the Damn Interesting fragrance department: Ben Taylor’s “New Writer Scent.”

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, the island of Juan Fernandez casts a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. In 1704, Alexander Selkirk, shouting from the beach of this forgotten island, saw a western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon. His next four years would be in solitude as he struggled for survival and, in time, inspired Daniel Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe.

Selkirk first went to sea at fifteen to escape a formal charge of “undecent beaiviar.” Later, as a grown man, he joined the crew of the Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of billowing sails and swelling planks. Selkirk was the master navigator as they traveled south along the coast of Brazil.

After reaching the southern tip of Argentina they turned north following the coast of Chile. However, diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The ship was strained against a relentless ocean. The situation worsened when an infestation of worms reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp, yet relief lay ahead.

In September of 1704, the tiny island of Juan Fernandez appeared on the horizon. Captain Stradling ordered the crew to anchor in the island’s bay, providing the men with a needed respite from their frustration and suffering.

The sojourn on the island was brief; the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted, however, that the ship was no longer seaworthy, and that the leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged captain and crew to remain on the island and wait for help, but they ignored him. Selkirk’s defiance grew, until finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding, and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew set sail while Selkirk watched in anguish from the lonely shore of the island. He shouted for them to return, begging for forgiveness– but the ship continued.

Among his possessions was a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum, and enough food for just a few days. He watched the horizon, awaiting salvation. Selkirk's Journey Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The closest inhabited land was Valparaiso, a journey six hundred miles north. His pistol provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water to drink, seals to provide meat, and indigenous plums to protect against scurvy. Selkirk had heard stories of other men who survived years of seclusion before eventually being rescued. He knew of men like Pedro de Serrano, a man who spent seven years isolated on an island in the Pacific without fresh water. Serrano survived by drinking the blood of turtles, but eventually became insane. Other men had survived for years with fewer resources than those offered by the island of Juan Fernandez; Selkirk knew what one man could do, so could another.

Selkirk’s warnings of an unsafe ship proved accurate– within a month of his exile, the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank off the coast of Peru. Many of the men drowned, and those remaining, including the captain, made it to the shore of an island where fourteen more died. In time they surrendered to the Spanish guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima, where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain escaped and in time returned to Britain, poor and in diminished health.

Despite living alone on the island, Selkirk was not without the threat of man. One day he spotted a ship anchored in the bay. High above was the Spanish flag– Selkirk ran for cover. Being Scottish, he knew that his capture would lead to enslavement or death. They chased him; the echo of their gunshots rang out across the island. He was outnumbered and unequipped in the pursuit. His knowledge of the island was his only advantage. He climbed into the thick brush of a tree and remained silent. Two days passed before the Spaniards left.

The tides shifted, the shadows stretched, and Selkirk remained. He persevered by keeping his mind on the future. He maimed wild goats when they were young to ensure they would never be able to outrun him. If his health ever withered he could then rely on these easy pursuits. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a cliff, leaving him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing. Over four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured only for “sport” and released after he carved a notch in their ear. This was his method of indicating the speed and physical aspects of the goat.

The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean, searching for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder of the world he once knew. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind,” hoping one day he would return home.

It was a late afternoon in 1709 when a ship approached the island. Though he could not determine the nationality of these men, he was desperate and ran to the shore. Quickly, he ran across the beach signaling them with a burning branch. The men disembarked onto the island, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned. The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he was assured Stradling, his former captain, was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

Captain Woodes Rogers later wrote of Selkirk’s marooned existence in his book A Cruising Voyage ‘Round the World:

Selkirk had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone. After four years and four months he was returning home. The ship’s officer set a course to travel north along the coast of Peru. Selkirk saw his island pass into the distance, as the faint glow of the embers from his signal fire faded on the beach.

After his rescue, a different isolation set in. Selkirk returned to his hometown of Largo, where he was unable to acclimate to the regimen of daily life. In his most desperate hours he sought out the seclusion of a small cave on a high spot of land. He married in 1717, but soon returned to sea.

Authors interested mostly in money occasionally penned his story in short form. Writer Daniel Defoe, approaching sixty and burdened by the cost of his daughter’s wedding, published a fictionalized account of Selkirk’s ordeal as Robinson Crusoe in 1719, his four hundred and twelfth publication. Its popularity mandated two sequels.

In 1720, after a brief time in port, Selkirk married another woman without regard to his first wife. Again, their time together was short, as he joined the HMS Weymouth as first mate. He would see this journey end in the grip of a virus, which claimed his life in 1721. That night the First lieutenant recorded Selkirk’s death in his log and noted a “small breeze.” The same drifting wind that saw the Cinque Ports disappear into the horizon would return to see Selkirk’s life fade before he was relinquished to the ocean.

The world became fascinated with the tale of Crusoe, yet few readers knew of the complicated man who inspired the timeless novel. In 1966 the Chilean government changed the name of Alexander Selkirk’s scrap of earth to Robinson Crusoe Island, a bittersweet monument to his fictionalized counterpart. Selkirk never found his place in society but came to inhabit his permanent existence behind the words of Defoe’s book. Only when forced into seclusion was there enough stillness and silence for Selkirk to hear the echoing of his soul that, like so many others, wanted only to find itself.

Further reading:
Alexander Selkirk: The Real Robinson Crusoe by James S. Bruce and Mayme S. Bruce
‘In an ill hour, I went on board a ship bound for London . . .’
Buy Selkirk’s Island on Amazon.com
Buy Robinson Crusoe on Amazon.com
Buy A Cruising Voyage ‘Round the World by Capt. Woodes Rogers

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, lies the island of Juan Fernandez, casting a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. On the forgotten beach of this island Alexander Selkirk saw a western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon leaving him behind. The year was 1704, marking the beginning of his solitary life on the uninhabited island of twelve miles.

Selkirk’s life on the ocean began at the age of fifteen when formally charged with “undecent beaiviar.” He fled his legal summons having “gone avay to ye seas.” He escaped punishment when embarking with a fleet of five ships. Their mission was to seek a narrow piece of land in northern Panama where they would build a regulated, overland trade route. “This door of the seas,” described by Company of Scotland founder William Paterson, would open the world to Scotland and its trade.
Juan Fernandez Island
Years passed and in the end, only one ship would survive, the Caledonia. On it was Selkirk at the age of twenty-one. After a failed journey the ship returned to Scotland, emerging from the fog carrying an ailing crew and bloated corpses. Selkirk was a survivor and had seen himself through the darkest of hours but the biggest test of his will lay ahead.

Soon after disembarking from the Caledonia he joined the crew of Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of billowing sails and swelling planks. Selkirk was the master navigator as they traveled south along the coast of Brazil, reaching Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America before turning north. Diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The wood of the ship, like an ailing sailor, was strained against the relentlessness of the ocean. An infestation of worms (Teredo navalis) had reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp.

The island of Juan Fernandez appearing on the horizon would provide a needed respite from the “disagreements and mismanagements” so many of the men had seen on the Cinque Ports. In September of 1704 their ship anchored into the bay.

The sojourn on the island was brief, the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted the ship was no longer sea worthy and a leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged the remaining crew to remain on the island and wait for help. Stradling, the captain, ignored him as did the crew. Selkirk’s defiance grew and finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew would set sail while Selkirk watched in regret.

Immediately, “he grew dejected, languid, scarce able to act.” Among his possessions were a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum and enough food for just a few days. He watched the horizon awaiting salvation.

Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The nearest land was Valparaiso, a six hundred mile journey north. He was with “eager longings for seeing again the face of man.” Yet, despite being alone on the island he was not without the threat of others. If a French ship anchored to the island and discovered an Englishman like Selkirk he might be spared but only at the begging of mercy. Should a Spanish ship arrive he would stand to suffer a worse fate of torture and death.

His pistol may have provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing. Yet, in time, even this choice disappeared as he used the ammunition to kill island goats only to see many of them vanish and die between narrow rock crevasses, which he could not penetrate.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water. Seals could provide meat. The rare discovery of a rusted barrel ring or braid of rope left by previous visitors could be fashioned into a tool. Even the indigenous plums would stave off scurvy. Selkirk had heard the stories of other men who survived years of seclusion to see rescue. What one man could do, another could.

A month within his exile the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank in the waters off the Peruvian coast. The captain and thirty-one of the crew made it to the shore of an island. Soon, fourteen more perished. In time those remaining surrendered to the guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain was successful in his second escape attempt and in time returned to Britain poor and in diminished health.

The tides shifted and shadows stretched but Selkirk remained. He would spend four years and four months surviving on the island during which he continued his life by keeping sight on the future. He took precautions in anticipation of becoming sick. He would “lame kids (goats) when very young, so as that they might recover their health, but never capable of speed.” He could then rely on a few easy kills as a reserve when he was slow. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a precipice rendering him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing.

Over the four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured before he carved a notch in their ear and released them. The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder that any semblance of the world he was banished from still existed. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind in that long solitude.” One day he would return home.

It was a late afternoon in 1709 when a ship approached the island. From his look out Selkirk could not determine if the men on the vessel were English. He paraded around the beach signaling with a burning branch. The men embarked on the shore, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered, cracked face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned.

The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he were assured Stradling was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

He had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone in the dark with only the growls of seals and nibbling of rats to keep him company. After four years and four months Selkirk was returning home. In time his story would inspire Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.

Wind filled the sails like the inflated chest of a prideful man. The ship’s officer set a course to travel north along the coast of Peru. Selkirk saw his island pass into the distance as the faint glow of the embers from his signal fire faded on the beach.

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, lies the island of Juan Fernandez, casting a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. On the forgotten beach of this island Alexander Selkirk saw a western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon leaving him behind. The year was 1704, marking the beginning of his solitary life on the uninhabited island of twelve miles.

Selkirk’s life on the ocean began at the age of fifteen when formally charged with “undecent beaiviar.” He fled his legal summons having “gone avay to ye seas.” He escaped punishment when embarking with a fleet of five ships. Their mission was to seek a narrow piece of land in northern Panama where they would build a regulated, overland trade route. “This door of the seas,” described by Company of Scotland founder William Paterson, would open the world to Scotland and its trade.

Years passed and in the end, only one ship would survive, the Caledonia. On it was Selkirk at the age of twenty-one. After a failed journey the ship returned to Scotland, emerging from the fog carrying an ailing crew and bloated corpses. Selkirk was a survivor and had seen himself through the darkest of hours but the biggest test of his will lay ahead.

Soon after disembarking from the Caledonia he joined the crew of Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of billowing sails and swelling planks. Selkirk was the master navigator as they traveled south along the coast of Brazil, reaching Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America before turning north. Diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The wood of the ship, like an ailing sailor, was strained against the relentlessness of the ocean. An infestation of worms (Teredo navalis) had reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp.

The island of Juan Fernandez appearing on the horizon would provide a needed respite from the “disagreements and mismanagements” so many of the men had seen on the Cinque Ports. In September of 1704 their ship anchored into the bay.

The sojourn on the island was brief, the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted the ship was no longer sea worthy and a leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged the remaining crew to remain on the island and wait for help. Stradling, the captain, ignored him as did the crew. Selkirk’s defiance grew and finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew would set sail while Selkirk watched in regret.

Immediately, “he grew dejected, languid, scarce able to act.” Among his possessions were a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum and enough food for just a few days. He watched the horizon awaiting salvation.

Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The nearest land was Valparaiso, a six hundred mile journey north. He was with “eager longings for seeing again the face of man.” Yet, despite being alone on the island he was not without the threat of others. If a French ship anchored to the island and discovered an Englishman like Selkirk he might be spared but only at the begging of mercy. Should a Spanish ship arrive he would stand to suffer a worse fate of torture and death.

His pistol may have provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing. Yet, in time, even this choice disappeared as he used the ammunition to kill island goats only to see many of them vanish and die between narrow rock crevasses, which he could not penetrate.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water. Seals could provide meat. The rare discovery of a rusted barrel ring or braid of rope left by previous visitors could be fashioned into a tool. Even the indigenous plums would stave off scurvy. Selkirk had heard the stories of other men who survived years of seclusion to see rescue. What one man could do, another could.

A month within his exile the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank in the waters off the Peruvian coast. The captain and thirty-one of the crew made it to the shore of an island. Soon, fourteen more perished. In time those remaining surrendered to the guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain was successful in his second escape attempt and in time returned to Britain poor and in diminished health.

The tides shifted and shadows stretched but Selkirk remained. He would spend four years and four months surviving on the island during which he continued his life by keeping sight on the future. He took precautions in anticipation of becoming sick. He would “lame kids (goats) when very young, so as that they might recover their health, but never capable of speed.” He could then rely on a few easy kills as a reserve when he was slow. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a precipice rendering him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing.

Over the four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured before he carved a notch in their ear and released them. The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder that any semblance of the world he was banished from still existed. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind in that long solitude.” One day he would return home.

It was a late afternoon in 1709 when a ship approached the island. From his look out Selkirk could not determine if the men on the vessel were English. He paraded around the beach signaling with a burning branch. The men embarked on the shore, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered, cracked face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned.

The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he were assured Stradling was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

He had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone in the dark with only the growls of seals and nibbling of rats to keep him company. After four years and four months Selkirk was returning home. In time his story would inspire Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.

Wind filled the sails like the inflated chest of a prideful man. The ship’s officer set a course to travel north along the coast of Peru. Selkirk saw his island pass into the distance as the faint glow of the embers from his signal fire faded on the beach.

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, lies the island of Juan Fernandez, casting a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. It is on the forgotten beach of this island where Alexander Selkirk saw a cruel western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon leaving him behind. The year was 1704, marking the beginning of his solitary life on the uninhabited island of twelve miles.

At the age of fifteen, Selkirk was formally charged with “undecent beaiviar” but never obliged his legal summons having escaped and “gone avay to ye seas.” It was an opportunity to escape punishment. He would spend eight years on the freedom of the ocean before joining the crew of Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of bellowing sails and swelling planks.

Selkirk was a survivor. Early in life he embarked with a fleet of five ships seeking northern Panama where they would build a regulated, overland trade route. “This door of the seas,” described by Company of Scotland founder William Paterson, would open the world to Scotland and its trade. In the end, only one ship would survive, the Caledonia. On it was Selkirk. After a failed journey the rotting planks of the ship returned to Scotland, emerging from the fog carrying an ailing crew and bloated corpses. Now at the age of 21, he had seen the darkest of hours but the biggest test of his will lay ahead.

Before long he was back at sea as master navigator on the Cinque Ports. Traveling south down the coast of Brazil, the men reached Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America before turning north. Diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The wood of the ship, like an ailing sailor, was strained against the relentlessness of the ocean. An infestation of worms (Teredo navalis) had reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp.

The island of Juan Fernandez appearing on the horizon would provide a needed respite from the “disagreements and mismanagements” so many of the men had seen on the Cinque Ports. In September of 1704 their ship anchored into the bay.

The sojourn on the island was brief and the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted the ship was no longer sea worthy and a leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged the remaining crew to remain on the island. Stradling, the captain, ignored him as did the crew. Selkirk’s defiance grew and finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew would set sail while Selkirk watched in regret.

The tides shifted and shadows stretched but Selkirk remained. Four years passed as he survived on the island. Immediatley, “he grew dejected, languid, scarce able to act.” Among his possessions were a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum and enough food for just a few days.

He watched the horizon awaiting salvation. Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The nearest land was Valparaiso, a six hundred mile journey north. He was with “eager longings for seeing again the face of man.” Yet, despite being alone on the island he was not without the threat of others. Should a Spanish ship arrive and discover him, he would stand to suffer torture and death. An Englishman like Selkirk might be spared by a French ship but only at the begging of mercy.

His pistol may have provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing. Yet, in time, even this choice disappeared as he used the ammunition to kill island goats only to see them vanish and die between rock crevasses he could not penetrate to retrieve the meat.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water. Seals could provide meat. The rare discovery of a rusted barrel ring or braid of rope left by previous visitors could be fashioned into a tool. Even the indigenous plums stave off scurvy. Selkirk had heard the stories of other men who survived years of seclusion to see rescue. What one man could do, another could.

A month within his exile the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank in the waters off the Peruvian coast. The captain and thirty-one of the crew made it to the shore of an island. Soon, fourteen more perished. In time those remaining surrendered to the guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain was successful in his second escape attempt and in time returned to Britain poor and in diminished health.

In the mean time, Selkirk continued his life keeping sight on the future. He took precautions in anticipation of sickness. He would “lame kids (goats) when very young, so as that they might recover their health, but never capable of speed.” He could then keep this fresh meat as a reserve. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a precipice rendering him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing.

Over the four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured before he carved a notch in their ear and released them. The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder that any semblance of the world he was banished from still existed. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind in that long solitude.” One day he would return.

In the late afternoon of 1709 a ship approached the island. From his look out Selkirk could not determine if the men on the vessel were English. He paraded around the beach with signaling with a burning branch as the men embarked on the shore, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered, cracked face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned.

The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he were assured Stradling was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

He had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone in the dark with only the growls of seals and nibbling of rats to keep him company. After four years and four months Selkirk was returning home. In time his story would inspire Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.

Wind filled the sails like the inflated chest of a prideful man. The ship’s officer set a course to travel north along the coast of Peru. Selkirk saw his island pass into the distance as the faint glow of the embers from his signal fire faded on the beach.

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, lies the island of Juan Fernandez, casting a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. On the forgotten beach of this island Alexander Selkirk saw a cruel western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon leaving him behind. The year was 1704, marking the beginning of his solitary life on the uninhabited island of twelve miles.

At the age of fifteen, Selkirk was formally charged with “undecent beaiviar” but never obliged his legal summons having escaped and “gone avay to ye seas.” It was an opportunity to escape punishment. He would spend eight years on the freedom of the ocean before joining the crew of Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of bellowing sails and swelling planks.

Selkirk was a survivor. Early in life he embarked with a fleet of five ships seeking northern Panama where they would build a regulated, overland trade route. “This door of the seas,” described by Company of Scotland founder William Paterson, would open the world to Scotland and its trade. In the end, only one ship would survive, the Caledonia. On it was Selkirk. After a failed journey the rotting planks of the ship returned to Scotland, emerging from the fog carrying an ailing crew and bloated corpses. Now at the age of 21, he had seen the darkest of hours but the biggest test of his will lay ahead.

Before long he was back at sea as master navigator on the Cinque Ports. Traveling south down the coast of Brazil, the men reached Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America before turning north. Diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The wood of the ship, like an ailing sailor, was strained against the relentlessness of the ocean. An infestation of worms (Teredo navalis) had reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp.

The island of Juan Fernandez appearing on the horizon would provide a needed respite from the “disagreements and mismanagements” so many of the men had seen on the Cinque Ports. In September of 1704 their ship anchored into the bay.

The sojourn on the island was brief and the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted the ship was no longer sea worthy and a leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged the remaining crew to remain on the island. Stradling, the captain, ignored him as did the crew. Selkirk’s defiance grew and finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew would set sail while Selkirk watched in regret.

The tides shifted and shadows stretched but Selkirk remained. Four years passed as he survived on the island. Immediatley, “he grew dejected, languid, scarce able to act.” Among his possessions were a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum and enough food for just a few days.

He watched the horizon awaiting salvation. Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The nearest land was Valparaiso, a six hundred mile journey north. He was with “eager longings for seeing again the face of man.” Yet, despite being alone on the island he was not without the threat of others. Should a Spanish ship arrive and discover him, he would stand to suffer torture and death. An Englishman like Selkirk might be spared by a French ship but only at the begging of mercy.

His pistol may have provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing. Yet, in time, even this choice disappeared as he used the ammunition to kill island goats only to see them vanish and die between rock crevasses he could not penetrate to retrieve the meat.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water. Seals could provide meat. The rare discovery of a rusted barrel ring or braid of rope left by previous visitors could be fashioned into a tool. Even the indigenous plums stave off scurvy. Selkirk had heard the stories of other men who survived years of seclusion to see rescue. What one man could do, another could.

A month within his exile the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank in the waters off the Peruvian coast. The captain and thirty-one of the crew made it to the shore of an island. Soon, fourteen more perished. In time those remaining surrendered to the guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain was successful in his second escape attempt and in time returned to Britain poor and in diminished health.

In the mean time, Selkirk continued his life keeping sight on the future. He took precautions in anticipation of sickness. He would “lame kids (goats) when very young, so as that they might recover their health, but never capable of speed.” He could then keep this fresh meat as a reserve. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a precipice rendering him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing.

Over the four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured before he carved a notch in their ear and released them. The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder that any semblance of the world he was banished from still existed. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind in that long solitude.” One day he would return.

In the late afternoon of 1709 a ship approached the island. From his look out Selkirk could not determine if the men on the vessel were English. He paraded around the beach with signaling with a burning branch as the men embarked on the shore, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered, cracked face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned.

The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he were assured Stradling was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

He had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone in the dark with only the growls of seals and nibbling of rats to keep him company. After four years and four months Selkirk was returning home. In time his story would inspire Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.

Wind filled the sails like the inflated chest of a prideful man. The ship’s officer set a course to travel north along the coast of Peru. Selkirk saw his island pass into the distance as the faint glow of the embers from his signal fire faded on the beach.

It’s a small spot on the map. Below the thirty-fourth degree south latitude, lies the island of Juan Fernandez, casting a modest shadow in the vast eastern Pacific Ocean. On the forgotten beach of this island Alexander Selkirk saw a cruel western breeze carry his ship and crewmates into the October horizon leaving him behind. The year was 1704, marking the beginning of his solitary life on the uninhabited island of twelve miles.

At the age of fifteen, Selkirk was formally charged with “undecent beaiviar” but never obliged his legal summons having escaped and “gone avay to ye seas.” It was an opportunity to escape punishment. He would spend eight years on the freedom of the ocean before joining the crew of Cinque Ports, a one hundred thirty ton vessel of bellowing sails and swelling planks.

Selkirk was a survivor. Early in life he embarked with a fleet of five ships seeking northern Panama where they would build a regulated, overland trade route. “This door of the seas,” described by Company of Scotland founder William Paterson, would open the world to Scotland and its trade. In the end, only one ship would survive, the Caledonia. On it was Selkirk. After a failed journey the rotting planks of the ship returned to Scotland, emerging from the fog carrying an ailing crew and bloated corpses. Now at the age of 21, he had seen the darkest of hours but the biggest test of his will lay ahead.

Before long he was back at sea as master navigator on the Cinque Ports. Traveling south down the coast of Brazil, the men reached Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America before turning north. Diminishing rations and disease saw their original crew of ninety wither to forty-two. The wood of the ship, like an ailing sailor, was strained against the relentlessness of the ocean. An infestation of worms (Teredo navalis) had reduced portions of the hull to a near pulp.

The island of Juan Fernandez appearing on the horizon would provide a needed respite from the “disagreements and mismanagements” so many of the men had seen on the Cinque Ports. In September of 1704 their ship anchored into the bay.

The sojourn on the island was brief and the captain was anxious to return to his ship and his voyage. Selkirk insisted the ship was no longer sea worthy and a leaking hull would succumb to the temperament of the ocean or enemies. He urged the remaining crew to remain on the island. Stradling, the captain, ignored him as did the crew. Selkirk’s defiance grew and finally Stradling ordered that Selkirk be left on the island with only his sea chest, bedding and clothing. Moments later the ship and the crew would set sail while Selkirk watched in regret.

The tides shifted and shadows stretched but Selkirk remained. Four years passed as he survived on the island. Immediatley, “he grew dejected, languid, scarce able to act.” Among his possessions were a pistol, gunpowder, bullets, a knife, a hatchet, navigation instruments, a bible, a flask of rum and enough food for just a few days.

He watched the horizon awaiting salvation. Escape on a make-shift raft was impossible. The nearest land was Valparaiso, a six hundred mile journey north. He was with “eager longings for seeing again the face of man.” Yet, despite being alone on the island he was not without the threat of others. Should a Spanish ship arrive and discover him, he would stand to suffer torture and death. An Englishman like Selkirk might be spared by a French ship but only at the begging of mercy.

His pistol may have provided reassurance that his final hours would be of his choosing. Yet, in time, even this choice disappeared as he used the ammunition to kill island goats only to see them vanish and die between rock crevasses he could not penetrate to retrieve the meat.

Upon his exploration of the island’s sharp lava rocks and lush vegetation he found fresh water. Seals could provide meat. The rare discovery of a rusted barrel ring or braid of rope left by previous visitors could be fashioned into a tool. Even the indigenous plums stave off scurvy. Selkirk had heard the stories of other men who survived years of seclusion to see rescue. What one man could do, another could.

A month within his exile the Cinque Ports gave in to its fate and sank in the waters off the Peruvian coast. The captain and thirty-one of the crew made it to the shore of an island. Soon, fourteen more perished. In time those remaining surrendered to the guarda-costa and were imprisoned in Lima where “the Spaniards put them in a close dungeon and used them very barbarously.” The captain was successful in his second escape attempt and in time returned to Britain poor and in diminished health.

In the mean time, Selkirk continued his life keeping sight on the future. He took precautions in anticipation of sickness. He would “lame kids (goats) when very young, so as that they might recover their health, but never capable of speed.” He could then keep this fresh meat as a reserve. One day the hunt for a goat nearly ended his life when he fell from a precipice rendering him “senseless for the space of three days, the length of which time he measured by the moon’s growth since his last observation.” The fall would have meant certain death had he not landed on the goat he was pursuing.

Over the four years Selkirk kept count of the five hundred goats he slaughtered. Others were captured before he carved a notch in their ear and released them. The necessities of basic survival dictated the routine of his day. Often he stood atop the island peering out into the vast ocean for the glimmer of a ship or some reminder that any semblance of the world he was banished from still existed. In these silent times he was subjected to “revolutions in his own mind in that long solitude.” One day he would return.

In the late afternoon of 1709 a ship approached the island. From his look out Selkirk could not determine if the men on the vessel were English. He paraded around the beach with signaling with a burning branch as the men embarked on the shore, guns drawn and aimed at the weathered, cracked face of Selkirk. With his hands above his head, he told them he was marooned.

The crew offered him room aboard the ship. Selkirk would only join if he were assured Stradling was not present. The name was of no meaning to these men searching only for food and fresh water.

He had seen himself through more than fifteen hundred nights alone in the dark with only the growls of seals and nibbling of rats to keep him company. After four years and four months Selkirk was returning home. In time his story would inspire Daniel Defoe to write Robinson Crusoe.