Story...
      Chapter 1.           The Shipwreck

   I woke up with a jolt, and stared around me. The other hammocks in the cabin were empty, rocking slowly to the ships rather choppy sway. I slid quickly out of my hammock, and lit a lantern. In the dim light, I looked at my pocket watch, and saw that it was three o'clock a.m. I slipped on my robe and a pair of pants, and ran up the stairs to the main deck of the ship.
    My name is Ethan Durall, and I come from England. The reason I am on this infernal groaning tub, is that I am a book writer, and have all my life wanted to write about China, and Japan, and all those other wonderful Asian countries, and as I saw it, you can't write about a place you've never been to, and seen  first hand. I set out for China four days ago, and have been seasick till yesterday afternoon. I am the only passenger on The Dragon,  as it is a cargo ship, and not commonly used for  travelling in.
    When I saw what was happening on deck, my heart sank, to the pit of my stomach. This was what I had feared. Men were running wildly in the pouring rain, with thirty foot waves savagely crashing into the ship. A sailor ran past me and yelled so shrilly that it hurt my ears, "We're sinking! Grab your possessions and get in the dinghy!"
     I ran back down to the hammocks, and grabbed my journal, and pen. I got back to the deck, just as the last dinghy was  about to drop into the water.
   "Wait!" I called.  A man turned and saw me, and told the others to stop. He helped me in, and gave the word to drop the boat.
    We landed with a meaty smack on the water that hurt my head. My mind cleared, and I almost wish it hadn't. I could now fully see the waves, and how dangerous our situation was. Thunder  roared directly  above us. I realized our fate was certain. Death would call on us before dawn.  My hands shaking, I pulled out my journal, and covering it with my jacket, to shield it  from the rain, wrote down this memoir.

        Chapter 2.           The Memoir, and it's Troubles
-----Ethan Durall-----
I am a young man of twenty-nine years. I lived in London, England. I was aboard The Dragon, when we were hit by a storm of such magnitude, that our ship started to sink. I am aboard a dinghy, yet I fear I will never see land....  Tell my loved one, ( I stopped, and thought. I did not actually have any loved ones, in fact,  I barely even knew any young ladies, except for the one who lives up the street. Her name was Lizzy Denton. She was an overweight, and awkward lady, but, I decided, that since she was the only girl I actually knew, and since I would never have to even see her again, I would put her down.)
.....Tell my longtime loved one, Lizzy Denton, to look for my body. Signed with tears, Ethan Durall.


I sighed, and tore the page out of my journal, and found a convenient bottle, (don't ask me how it got in the boat). I stuffed the page in the bottle, sealed it and threw it dramatically into the roaring deep.


We struggled for three days in the small dinghy. We had no food, and little water. Most of us slept through the day, having no oars to row, and nothing else to do. we floated and drifted, until we struck a sand bar. Our curiosity aroused, we looked around. At first glance, we saw nothing, but with a second glance, we saw a thin white line that was determined to be a shore.