When Survival Isn’t Enough....Chapter 3

Lightning flashed nearby and the ground trembled from the crashing thunder that followed as John huddled, curled up under his simple debris shelter, trying to stay as small as possible and away from the entrance as the torrential rain and howling wind lashed at him.  The small lake in front of him was turned into a mini ocean of raging white caps and the few trees that he could see near him bent and swayed in extreme poses as the powerful gale from the heavens pushed them in all directions.  There were a couple of leaks in his shelter and because it was sized only large enough for his body, as he had learned in his survival classes, he was unable to get away from the water that came streaming in.  Still, he was relatively dry, and thankful that so far, his little house was holding together under the onslaught of wind and rain.  He made a mental note of the leaks and put that as his first order of business as soon as the storm was over.

According to his watch, it was 3 pm when the storm finally passed over and he was able to emerge into the open.  The sun finally came out and he laid his now damp jacket and hat upon a large rock to dry out.  Going to the wreckage of the plane, he found a couple more pieces of the aluminum fuselage buried in the burned rubble and with careful effort, managed to rip them from the plane’s frame without cutting himself.  While not large, they would be sufficient to cover the two holes in his shelter where the rain had leaked in.  One thing was for sure, if he were to survive here for any length of time, he was going to have to find a way to build a better shelter and without a large saw or axe, it was going to tax his skills to the limit to get it done. But first, his growling stomach told him that he needed to get some nourishment and soon.

Because of the heavy rain, he had no problem finding worms and using the rest of the key ring and his multi-tool, he fashioned two more hooks.  Then, using the inner strands from his paracord boot laces, he put out three lines in the lake.  When that was done, he went over to the plane to see if there was anything else that he could use.  While he was looking at the wreckage, an idea came to him.

The Piper Pa-18 had been equipped with a forged aluminum propeller. One half had been sheered off in the crash and the other length was mangled and twisted and blackened from the intense fire.  However, if he could manage to get it off, he might be able to fashion a crude axe from it.  But how to get it off with just a multi-tool and his hands?  Suddenly he remembered that the pilot had kept a small metal tool box behind his seat and with a stick he began stirring through the ashes to try and find it.  But, it was missing and for a moment he thought his idea might be in vain.  Then, remembering the impact, he thought that maybe the tool box had been thrown forward and going digging in the front of the plane, he found it lodged under the rudder controls.  It was badly twisted and heat damaged but he managed to get it open.  Inside he found a treasure trove of opportunities.  There was a ball peen hammer head with the handle burned away, a couple of screwdrivers with no handles, a pair of metal pliers and a set of wrenches.  Even though he knew that they had lost their temper in the blaze, he thought that he could build a fire and possibly re-harden them.

There was a mass of melted plastic and hardened goo at the bottom of the tool box from the handles, repair tape etc. and he almost tossed the whole affair aside. But, curiosity got the better of him and using the stem of the flat head screwdriver as a pry-bar, he dug at it until it came loose. What lay under the melted mess made him gasp with excitement and a swift word of praise to God escaped his lips!

There, under the goo, was the head of a small hatchet!  The propeller project all forgotten now, John knew that he had to get a proper fire going so that he could re-temper the steel of the hatchet. Using the tool box, he filled it with wood scraps and placed it in his fire.  He added wood around the box and the fire leaped up around it until the tool box was completely encapsulated in flame.

For a couple of hours he carefully fed the fire and then he let it burn out.  Raking the tool box out of the coals, he let it thoroughly cool down. When he opened it, there was a nice pile of charcoal looking back at him.  He repeated this process several more times until he was sure that he had more than enough.  He carefully placed each pile of charcoal upon the outside of his jacket which now lay under his shelter to keep it dry.  Then, he dug a small pit beside his existing fire and dragged some of the coals over into it.  He took a couple of large handfuls of charcoal and placed them on top and then using a small piece of metal tubing that had been part of the plane’s fuel lines, he began using his mouth to gently blow air into the charcoal.

Now that that was in process, he went to the lake and filled the twisted tool box with as much water as it would hold and placed it right beside his charcoal fire.  Then, placing the hatchet head upon the charcoal, he focused on getting the temperature up to the proper heat.  He added lumps of charcoal from time to time as it burned down and blew steadily into the tubing, making sure to breathe long and slow so as to not hyperventilate.  After a while, the steel of the hatchet was glowing a medium red and he determined that it was time to quench it.  Using the pliers, and with a quick prayer that the quenching process wouldn’t crack the steel, he swiftly grabbed the hatchet by the eye and in one smooth move dunked it in the water filled tool box.  As it hissed and steamed he watched it carefully as he swished it around to cool it down.  After a couple of minutes, he brought it out and walked over to the lake where he plunged it into the cold water.  Now that it was safe to touch, he held it in his hands and examined it carefully. Thank God, there were no stress cracks that he could see.

Going back to his main fire and emptying the water out of the tool box, he then dried it and the hatchet head with his shirt tail.  Then, he placed the hatchet head inside the tool box and placed it on the coals for a couple of hours.  He did this twice using his best guess as too how hot it actually got as he had no thermometer.  He wanted to draw the temper down enough so that the steel would still he hard enough to hold an edge, but be tough enough to handle chopping.

By now, it was late in the evening and time to wrap up the day.  His fishing lines had caught him nothing and so re-baiting them, he left them out for the night in hopes that he might have something to fill his growling stomach the next morning.  Wiggling back into his survival shelter, with the toolbox, tools and now re-hardened hatchet head safely inside, he fell off into an exhausted sleep.  The last thought on his mind as he drifted off was that tomorrow was going to be an exciting day….

Spiritually speaking, we often find ourselves in situations that cause us trouble. Our storm is raging and our resources few.  However, there is a God in heaven who has promised to “Supply all our needs” Philippians 4:19  While we may not be trying to recover and survive from a plane crash, we still have many times in our life when only divine intervention can help.  It doesn’t mean that we won’t have to work at it, but God will make a way if we are willing to pray and look for the opportunity.  So the next time you find yourself in a desperate situation, look up, for your Heavenly Father knows what you need even before you ask and will supply your needs!

Thanks for reading!

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James B