_May 1._--In the morning, looking towards the seaside, the tide being low, I saw something lie on the shore bigger than ordinary, and it looked like a cask.

When I came to it, I found a small barrel, and two or three pieces of the wreck of the ship, which were driven on shore by the late hurricane;

and looking towards the wreck itself, I thought it seemed to lie higher out of the water than it used to do.

I examined the barrel which was driven on shore, and soon found it was a barrel of gunpowder;

but it had taken water, and the powder was caked as hard as stone.

However, I rolled it farther on shore for the present, and went on upon the sands as near as I could to the wreck of the ship to look for more.

 When I came down to the ship I found it strangely removed.

The forecastle, which lay before buried in sand, was heaved up at least six feet;

and the stern, which was broken to pieces, and parted from the rest by the force of the sea soon after I had left rummaging her, was tossed, as it were, up, and cast on one side, and the sand was thrown so high on that side next her stern, that whereas there was a great place of water before, so that I could not come within a quarter of a mile of the wreck without swimming, I could now walk quite up to her when the tide was out.

I was surprised with this at first, but soon concluded it must be done by the earthquake.

And as by this violence the ship was more broken open than formerly, so many things came daily on shore, which the sea had loosened, and which the winds and water rolled by degrees to the land.

 This wholly diverted my thoughts from the design of removing my habitation;

and I busied myself mightily, that day especially, in searching whether I could make any way into the ship.

But I found nothing was to be expected of that kind, for that all the inside of the ship was choked up with sand.

However, as I had learned not to despair of anything, I resolved to pull everything to pieces that I could of the ship, concluding, that everything I could get from her would be of some use or other to me.

 _May 3._--I began with my saw, and cut a piece of a beam through, which I thought held some of the upper part or quarter-deck together;

and when I had cut it through, I cleared away the sand as well as I could from the side which lay highest;

but the tide coming in, I was obliged to give over for that time.

 _May 4._--I went a-fishing, but caught not one fish that I durst eat of, till I was weary of my sport;

when, just going to leave off, I caught a young dolphin.

I had made me a long line of some rope-yarn, but I had no hooks;

yet I frequently caught fish enough, as much as I cared to eat;

all which I dried in the sun, and eat them dry.

 _May 5._--Worked on the wreck, cut another beam asunder, and brought three great fir-planks off from the decks, which I tied together, and made swim on shore, when the tide flood came on.

 _May 6._--Worked on the wreck, got several iron bolts out of her, and other pieces of ironwork;

worked very hard, and came home very much tired, and had thoughts of giving it over.

 _May 7._--Went to the wreck again, but with an intent not to work, but found the weight of the wreck had broke itself down, the beams being cut;

that several pieces of the ship seemed to lie loose, and the inside of the hold lay so open, that I could see into it, but almost full of water and sand.

 _May 8._--Went to the wreck, and carried an iron crow to wrench up the deck, which lay now quite clear of the water and sand.

I wrenched open two planks, and brought them on shore also with the tide.

I left the iron crow in the wreck for the next day.

 _May 9._--Went to the wreck, and with the crow made way into the body of the wreck, and felt several casks, and loosened them with the crow, but could not break them up.

I felt also the roll of English lead, and could stir it, but it was too heavy to remove.

 _May 10, 11, 12, 13, 14._--Went every day to the wreck, and got a great deal of pieces of timber, and boards, or plank, and two or three hundredweight of iron.

 _May 15._--I carried two hatchets to try if I could not cut a piece off of the roll of lead, by placing the edge of one hatchet, and driving it with the other;

but as it lay about a foot and a half in the water, I could not make any blow to drive the hatchet.

 _May 16._--It had blowed hard in the night, and the wreck appeared more broken by the force of the water;

but I stayed so long in the woods to get pigeons for food, that the tide prevented me going to the wreck that day.

 _May 17._--I saw some pieces of the wreck blown on shore, at a great distance, near two miles off me, but resolved to see what they were, and found it was a piece of the head, but too heavy for me to bring away.

 _May 24._--Every day to this day I worked on the wreck, and with hard labor I loosened some things so much with the crow, that the first blowing tide several casks floated out, and two of the seamen’s chests.

But the wind blowing from the shore, nothing came to land that day but pieces of timber, and a hogshead, which had some Brazil pork in it, but the salt water and the sand had spoiled it.

 I continued this work every day to the 15th of June, except the time necessary to get food, which I always appointed, during this part of my employment, to be when the tide was up, that I might be ready when it was ebbed out.

And by this time I had gotten timber, and plank, and ironwork enough to have builded a good boat, if I had known how;

and also, I got at several times, and in several pieces, near one hundredweight of the sheet lead.

 _June 16._--Going down to the seaside, I found a large tortoise, or turtle.

This was the first I had seen, which it seems was only my misfortune, not any defect of the place, or scarcity;

for had I happened to be on the other side of the island, I might have had hundreds of them every day, as I found afterwards;

but, perhaps, had paid dear enough for them.

 _June 17_--I spent in cooking the turtle.

I found in her threescore eggs;

and her flesh was to me, at that time, the most savory and pleasant that ever I tasted in my life, having had no flesh, but of goats and fowls, since I landed in this horrid place.

 _June 18._--Rained all day, and I stayed within.

I thought at this time the rain felt cold, and I was something chilly, which I knew was not usual in that latitude.

 _June 19._--Very ill, and shivering, as if the weather had been cold.

 _June 20._--No rest all night; violent pains in my head, and feverish.

 _June 21._--Very ill, frightened almost to death with the apprehensions of my sad condition, to be sick, and no help.

Prayed to God for the first time since the storm off of Hull, but scarce knew what I said, or why;

my thoughts being all confused.

 _June 22._--A little better, but under dreadful apprehensions of sickness.

 _June 23._--Very bad again; cold and shivering, and then a violent headache.

 _June 24._--Much better.

 _June 25._--An ague very violent; the fit held me seven hours;

cold fit, and hot, with faint sweats after it.

 _June 26._--Better; and having no victuals to eat, took my gun, but found myself very weak.

However, I killed a she-goat, and with much difficulty got it home, and broiled some of it, and ate.

I would fain have stewed it and made some broth, but had no pot.

 _June 27._--The ague again so violent that I lay abed all day, and neither ate nor drank.

I was ready to perish for thirst;

but so weak, I had not strength to stand up, or to get myself any water to drink.

Prayed to God again, but was light-headed; and when I was not, I was so ignorant that I knew not what to say;

only I lay and cried, “Lord, look upon me! Lord, pity me!

Lord, have mercy upon me!”

I suppose I did nothing else for two or three hours, till the fit wearing off, I fell asleep, and did not wake till far in the night.

When I waked, I found myself much refreshed, but weak, and exceeding thirsty.

However, as I had no water in my whole habitation, I was forced to lie till morning, and went to sleep again.

In this second sleep I had this terrible dream.

 I thought that I was sitting on the ground, on the outside of my wall, where I sat when the storm blew after the earthquake, and that I saw a man descend from a great black cloud, in a bright flame of fire, and light upon the ground.

He was all over as bright as a flame, so that I could but just bear to look towards him.

His countenance was most inexpressibly dreadful, impossible for words to describe.

When he stepped upon the ground with his feet, I thought the earth trembled, just as it had done before in the earthquake, and all the air looked, to my apprehension, as if it had been filled with flashes of fire.

 He was no sooner landed upon the earth, but he moved forward towards me, with a long spear or weapon in his hand, to kill me;

and when he came to a rising ground, at some distance, he spoke to me, or I heard a voice so terrible, that it is impossible to express the terror of it.

All that I can say I understood was this: “Seeing all these things have not brought thee to repentance, now thou shalt die;”

at which words I thought he lifted up the spear that was in his hand to kill me.

 No one that shall ever read this account, will expect that I should be able to describe the horrors of my soul at this terrible vision;

I mean, that even while it was a dream, I even dreamed of these horrors;

nor is it any more possible to describe the impression that remained upon my mind when I awaked, and found it was but a dream.

 I had, alas! no divine knowledge; what I had received by the good instruction of my father was then worn out, by an uninterrupted series, for eight years, of seafaring wickedness, and a constant conversation with nothing but such as were, like myself, wicked and profane to the last degree.

I do not remember that I had, in all that time, one thought that so much as tended either to looking upwards toward God, or inwards toward a reflection upon my ways;

but a certain stupidity of soul, without desire of good, or conscience of evil, had entirely overwhelmed me;

and I was all that the most hardened, unthinking, wicked creature among our common sailors can be supposed to be;

not having the least sense, either of the fear of God in danger, or of thankfulness to God in deliverances.

 In the relating what is already past of my story, this will be the more easily believed, when I shall add, that through all the variety of miseries that had to this day befallen me, I never had so much as one thought of it being the hand of God, or that it was a just punishment for my sin;

my rebellious behavior against my father, or my present sins, which were great;

or so much as a punishment for the general course of my wicked life.

When I was on the desperate expedition on the desert shores of Africa, I never had so much as one thought of what would become of me;

or one wish to God to direct me whither I should go;

or to keep me from the dangers which apparently surrounded me, as well from voracious creatures as cruel savages.

But I was merely thoughtless of a God or a Providence; acted like a mere brute from the principles of Nature, and by the dictates of common sense only, and indeed hardly that.

 When I was delivered and taken up at sea by the Portuguese captain, well used, and dealt justly and honorably with, as well as charitably, I had not the least thankfulness in my thoughts.

When again I was shipwrecked, ruined, and in danger of drowning on this island, I was as far from remorse, or looking on it as a judgment;

I only said to myself often, that I was an unfortunate dog, and born to be always miserable.

 It is true, when I got on shore first here, and found all my ship’s crew drowned, and myself spared, I was surprised with a kind of ecstasy, and some transports of soul, which, had the grace of God assisted, might have come up to true thankfulness;

but it ended where it begun, in a mere common flight of joy, or, as I may say, being glad I was alive, without the least reflection upon the distinguishing goodness of the hand which had preserved me, and had singled me out to be preserved, when all the rest were destroyed;

or an inquiry why Providence had been thus merciful to me;

even just the same common sort of joy which seamen generally have after they are got safe ashore from a shipwreck, which they drown all in the next bowl of punch, and forget almost as soon as it is over, and all the rest of my life was like it.

 Even when I was afterwards, on due consideration, made sensible of my condition, how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach of human kind, out of all hope of relief, or prospect of redemption, as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and that I should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of my affliction wore off, and I began to be very easy, applied myself to the works proper for my preservation and supply, and was far enough from being afflicted, at my condition, as a judgment from heaven, or, as the hand of God against me;

these were thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.

 The growing up of the corn, as is hinted in my journal, had at first some little influence upon me, and began to affect me with seriousness, as long as I thought it had something miraculous in it;

but as soon as ever that part of the thought was removed, all the impression which was raised from it wore off also, as I have noted already.

 Even the earthquake, though nothing could be more terrible in its nature, or more immediately directing to the invisible Power, which alone directs such things, yet no sooner was the first fright over, but the impression it had made went off also.

I had no more sense of God or His judgments, much less of the present affliction of my circumstances being from His hand, than if I had been in the most prosperous condition of life.

 But now, when I began to be sick, and a leisurely view of the miseries of death came to place itself before me;

when my spirits began to sink under the burden of a strong distemper, and Nature was exhausted with the violence of the fever;

conscience, that had slept so long, began to awake, and I began to reproach myself with my past life, in which I had so evidently, by uncommon wickedness, provoked the justice of God to lay me under uncommon strokes, and to deal with me in so vindictive a manner.

 These reflections oppressed me for the second or third day of my distemper;

and in the violence, as well of the fever as of the dreadful reproaches of my conscience, extorted some words from me, like praying to God, though I cannot say they were either a prayer attended with desires or with hopes;

it was rather the voice of mere fright and distress.

My thoughts were confused, the convictions great upon my mind, and the horror of dying in such a miserable condition, raised vapors into my head with the mere apprehensions;

and in these hurries of my soul, I know not what my tongue might express;

but it was rather exclamation, such as, “Lord! what a miserable creature am I!

If I should be sick, I shall certainly die for want of help;

and what will become of me?”

Then the tears burst out of my eyes, and I could say no more for a good while.

 In this interval, the good advice of my father came to my mind, and presently his prediction, which I mentioned at the beginning of this story, viz., that if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless me, and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected his counsel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery.

“Now,” said I aloud, “my dear father’s words are come to pass;

God’s justice has overtaken me, and I have none to help or hear me.

I rejected the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a posture or station of life wherein I might have been happy and easy;

but I would neither see it myself, or learn to know the blessing of it from my parents.

I left them to mourn over my folly, and now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it.

I refused their help and assistance, who would have lifted me into the world, and would have made everything easy to me;

and now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great for even Nature itself to support, and no assistance, no help, no comfort, no advice.”

Then I cried out, “Lord, be my help, for I am in great distress.”

 This was the first prayer, if I may call it so, that I had made for many years.

But I return to my journal.