I’ve been rehearsing for a plane crash for the last 15 years or so, or a ‘break down in the middle of nowhere, miles from help, satellites and medical care situation’. I’ve studied the ancient art of fire making, I’ve learnt how to use the natural world for things such as cooking utensils, soap, shelter and weaponry to catch and kill it’s animal life. I can find water by observing the body language of birds, I can inform you of your true north from the moss on a tree and I can help you navigate back to your tent or cave in the pitch black of night with nothing but my echo graphic scans of the terrain just. like. a. bat.
Yes, if you were to have a plane crash with me and my survival books and iPhone apps, you’d be well equipped for a series of over confident self assured lunges at conquering the wild – a far more rapid route to certain death or glorious survival, a means to get to the end result with a break neck expediency.
I’d be the only passenger in the plane going down with an excited grin, fantasizing about limping out of the wreckage in a few minutes, dressing my wounds and yours with palm leaves and vines, setting traps for dinner (rabbit) and raiding the aircraft for whisky. We’d make a shelter out of branches overhead, I’d make a saucepan out of birch bark, we’d boil some water, drink nettle tea and think about staying in the woods forever. Then you would realize you are with a total lunatic who has no intention of ever being found again.