Examine Rack

Unequip pockets, examine rack.

Blue skies, means no water that way.

Work your way inland, see if you can find a pond or stream. Inspect coastline to see if anything else washed ashore.

>>842859
You look around for your trusty equipment rack, which you brought with you aboard the voyage. It is nowhere to be seen.

>>842890
Finding their emptiness unacceptable, you attempt to unequip your pockets. Failing this, you once again take up the search for your missing equipment rack, scouring the beach for a six-foot-tall wooden structure that you might've overlooked the first time. Still nothing.

>>842892
The clear blue sky calls to mind an old mariner's saying - blue skies means no water that way. Or maybe it was something your mom said. Or maybe it's just you deliriously mistaking random thoughts as great wisdom. You can't really tell. Nevertheless, you head into the jungle in hopes of finding a pond or stream...that shouldn't be there due to the blue skies? Your garbled thought process must be the result of dehydration, you reason, and finding no such body of freshwater after five minutes of walking, you double back to the small beach you awoke upon.

Inspecting the coastline, you do indeed find several objects washed ashore along with you - though sadly your equipment rack is definitely not among them. You find an iron dagger, heavily torn sails, several wooden planks of various sizes, and two lengths of rope. The first is of medium thickness and six feet long, the other is somewhat thinner and less sturdy but fifteen feet in length. A good haul, but far too much to carry at once.

If you're looking for fresh water, you might be better off walking along the coast until you find the mouth of a river, then following it inland.

Take the dagger and the lighter coil of rope with you.

Drag the other supplies above the water line so they won't be washed away with the tide, you might need them later.

>>842857
look for pineapples and hula girls. Or the remnants and tracks that will lead to them.

Take dagger, cut decent sized square of sail(that is one piece), tie to a wooden plank. Do it yourself hobo bindle.
Also, tie short thick rope around waist and carry long rope.

>>843331
>>843396
Feeling the hallowed voice of your ancestors ring through your mind, sacred blood surges through your veins. You know exactly what to do in this situation. You have the power!

Taking the dagger, you cut off a square portion of sail and tie it to a plank. Stuffing the long rope and a few of the boards inside, you're certain that your highly-honored hobo ancestors would be proud of this well-made bundle. You coil the shorter rope around your waist; it keeps slipping and requires constant re-adjustment because it's basically a giant, heavy belt secured to nothing on your person and probably would've been better off sitting diagonally across your shoulder like a sash, but you are not particularly clever and make do with what limited good ideas you can manage in your water-deprived state.

There are still over a dozen boards of various sizes that couldn't fit into your bundle sitting on the beach. You drag them to the tree line to avoid them being washed out to sea.

With the iron dagger in one hand and your +3 Hobo Bundle of Carrying balanced across your shoulder in the other, you embark upon your epic quest to find fresh water. Walking in the opposite direction and along the coastline this time, you hope to come across the mouth of a river to follow inland.

>>843374
After a few minutes, you do indeed find a river! Or brook, or stream. Your lack of education comes back to bite you once again as you're not quite sure what to call your discovery, but it looks like it's probably not saltwater and is definitely flowing from further inland. After taking a deep drink of decidedly fresh water, your dehydration is more or less cured for now. Your knack for bad ideas remains however, and you inspect the area around the river for hula girl remnants or wild pineapple tracks that will lead to either of these things; your search comes up empty. This is the equipment rack fiasco all over again.

You do, however, find a row of clothing laying in the sunlight midway between the riverbank and the treeline. The clothing is completely dry and looks like the kind of attire your shipmates were wearing. It is torn in several places with a few splotches of blood here and there.

>You do, however, find a row of clothing laying in the sunlight midway between the riverbank and the treeline.
Seems like a sign some of the others survived.

Any sign of the owner of the clothes? Footprints or other tracks leading away?

Seems like between the rope and sailcloth, we could get a hammock going somewhere.

>>843620
You aren't quite sure, but the clothes seem like a sign some of the others may have survived.

As you look about for footprints, a rustling in the nearby bushes gets your attention. A pair of your crewmates emerge!

"Uhhh, h-hi guys," you stammer, blushing at the sight of not one but two human bodies fully naked with no clothes on. "I, uh, found your clothing!"

"And," adds the tall, musclebound, redheaded woman; you know her as Sharla the Unforgiving. "You interrupted the...physical training we were undertaking while our stuff dried off." She shamelessly displays her enormous gazongas as she slowly dresses, but you know better than to stare. She hates you anyway.

Her partner, a slightly shorter, ottermode man named Camberlin Goodthrust greets you warmly. "Ah, I remember you! The passenger with the nice equipment rack! A hassle to get onboard, but quite a beauty, it was. I can only hope it survived the storm." Camberlin's a pretty cool guy, great to be around and good with a sword. As he buckles his weapons belt, he says, "Apologies, friend, but what was your name again?"

>>843726
You briefly ponder fashioning a hammock from your rope and sailcloth, and conclude that although you would be able to do so, the middle of the day is perhaps an inopportune time to worry about sleeping arrangements.

search for rum. if none is found wonder why it's gone.

>what was your name again?
Laurie the Racked

Our name shall be Bob.

Bob the Deathless.

For not even the unluckiest nor the most unfortunate of situations can claim our life.

Lauri the Deathless.

Before we got on the boat, we were a Finnish Green Beret.

>>843951
>>844007
>>844023
"...what was your name again?"

"Bob Laurie!" You reply with pride unusual for someone so unaccomplished. After reflecting for a moment, you add, "The Deathless!"

Sharla frowns. "Don't call yourself deathless just because you went for a swim and survived." You begin to stutter something about having a beret with a color that would match the trees quite well, but Sharla cuts you off with a knee to the groin. She leaves you doubled over, pulling Camberlin along behind her.

>>843951
"You can come with us, if you like," Camberlin calls back to you. At the moment, you're preoccupied with searching the ground for rum. You can let them leave to avoid further contact with Sharla and continue your (thus far unsuccessful) search for rum, or go with them to maintain the human contact you so desperately crave in spite of the existential threat to your testicles.

Honestly, I'd rather go our separate ways. No foul against Camerberlin (though I hate describing any dude as ottermode), but I don't like Sharla kicking us. (I'd put up with verbal abuse, or physical if it had a purpose, but not this)
Next goal should be to get some food I think. If you happen to pass by any bottles(hopefully with a lid or cork intact) put them in your bindle; they are decent for carrying water in the future. Also fix the rope belt thing cause I didn't consider shoulders for some reason.

>>844191

Wow, yeah, let's ditch the bitch, if we ever need something form someone, we can just ask for the nice dude instead. They can't be that hard to find.

>>844163
Let's hang out with these people until they find other people. Or rum. Rum would be good.