Finding my last foothold, I wrenched my body up and over the edge of the cliff. I breathed in deeply and gazed out at the spectacular view before me as I sat perched on the overhanging. The massive 40-foot cliff I was on dropped off sharply, then dipped inward to create an overhanging. It appeared gorgeous against the rich turquoise hue of the water, but being so steep, it was excruciating to have to climb. The drop-off, however, was only part of what amazed me as I rested my aching arms. The lush rainforest was spread out below me, and in front of me, starting about 30 feet from the cliff base, is the ocean, a broad expanse of blue that stretches as far as the eye can see. I have investigated this perch, and the large cenote behind me, many times, and as I gazed out across the ocean, I sighed to myself, wishing to spot a boat or a plane on the horizon, and knowing that it would not appear.

I have lived on this island for a month now, give or take, exploring the magnificent rainforest and researching the flora and fauna on what seemed to be the most epic field trip ever. The magnificent trees and awesome animals made me forget, for a few blissful moments, that I was stranded there, on those untamed shores in the uncharted reaches of the ocean, until my food stock had finally run out.

I had first ventured up the mighty cliff on my second day here, trying to find a good place to make a, hopefully semi-permanent, home and instead discovered this bountiful cave, hosting a wide variety of edible fish, all swimming tantalizingly out of reach. I took one feeble attempt that day at catching one, and instead of getting dinner, I discovered that fish do not take well to two-legged intruders in their home turf. Instead of reliving my pitiful attempt, that day I had planned on using a crude vine net I made myself, a clumsy contraption, suitable for only the weakest prey. I had tried it in the ocean the day before but had ended up with a real large problem as I got stuck in the net, and ripped it. Just a little. Okay, more than a little. I had hoped to be more successful in my attempts that day.

I had walked under the overhang that advertised the beginning of the cenote and scanned the water for a good-sized fish to attempt to catch as I sat on the ledge peering into the dark depths. The visibility is low, with only one main light source, and my best bet would be to see a flash of silver scales, or a slower fish meandering along below. I watched as some fish swam by, noting that they were reef fish, which meant that this cave had an opening into the sea.

Keeping one eye on the water, I gazed about the cave, scrutinizing the stalagmite and stalactite formations in the cave, and how all the stalactites dripped water into the depths of the cave. Perched high above in overhanging were bright green birds with striped yellow and black heads. Although the parrot-like birds had intrigued me, the best animals resided in the water below. There were the darkly colored Black Triggerfish, the blue and yellow Queen Angelfish, and weird Chambered Nautilus, a variety of funny looking mollusk that resembles a squid with a shell. However, not all the fish were so peaceful. There were the poisonous lionfish also, and the easily frightened Dog Puffer, an adorable fish with spines covering its body. I had watched the water, waiting for a decent meal to head my way. Eventually, I saw a small, sleek shape swim lazily towards my net, and I recognized a Black-Tipped Reef Shark, a young one, not even four feet long. I watched its lazy progress and decided to give shark dinner a shot, even though the snaggly teeth protruding from its mouth had frightened me.

I stilled the net in my hand and brushed my long hair from my eyes as minute ripples spread across the water’s surface, then I crouched lower and dipped a finger into use as a lure. Slowly moving my hand, I watched as the shark had noticed it and began to change its course, circling slowly towards my net. Then it had suddenly darted forward, mouth agape, and attempted to latch onto my finger. I pulled the net forwards and snagged the shark’s tail in it, but the head was still free, thrashing in the deep water before me, and with a wrench of its body, it had pulled me in. I screamed a high pitched noise that caused the roosting birds to fly out into the sunlight as I splashed about in the water, desperately trying to keep the shark from biting me.

I had grabbed the shark’s tail and swung it down below the water in order to heave it onto the shore, and it instead latched its jaws onto my leg. I grunted in pain but still got it up onto the shore. Then, I grabbed a rock and swung it hard at its head, and finally, it stilled. I floated in the water, too exhausted to get out, and listened to my own heavy breathing as I felt the spot where the pain was emanating from my leg.

As I floated, I realized that other predators would soon arrive, headed towards the smell of blood in the water. I righted myself and exited gingerly, and then gazed at the small school of carnivorous fish arriving just too late to take a bite out of me, followed by a large Black-Tip Reef Shark. I hauled myself up and dragged the shark as far away from the water as I could, tugging on it until it lay, still tangled in the net, in the mouth of the cave. I sat down hard once I finished, black spots dancing in front of my eyes as I tried to stay conscious.

I gazed blankly at the shark bite marring my thigh, then grabbed the end of the vine that was wrapped around my arm, slowly unwinding it. As soon as it was free, I started to tie it tightly over the bite. The pain brought tears to my eyes, but I tied it tighter and tighter and forced the blood to stop flowing. It worked, at least a little, so I had turned to the bigger problem at hand; the shark. I needed to gut it, and quickly, so that the corpse doesn’t bloat and ruin the meat I had worked so hard for. Which meant I needed to get it to my campsite, which was 40 feet down the cliff, as well as a long 100-foot trudge from the base of the cliff. There was also the problem that it was bloody, and that it could have attracted unwanted attention I did not need or want to deal with right then. But, first, I had really needed to get it down the cliff, without just throwing it over the edge. I looked at the net I had made, and saw that even if I didn’t rip it apart, it wouldn’t be of much use anymore, with a large hole in the center from the shark’s thrashing. So, I carefully unwound one of the many vines making up the net and tied it around the tail of the shark. It was heavy and very ungraceful, but it worked; that’s what mattered.

I managed to reach the cliff edge, pulling the shark behind me, and I placed my left foot on a thin lip that jutted out over the empty air in front of me. I slowly clambered over the edge, leaving the vine attached to the shark tied around a rock as an anchor line. I started to shimmy my way down, the shark dangling about two feet below me. I gasped in pain as I wound my way down the cliffside, slowly finding my footing, then easing down. Finding my footing, then easing down. Eventually, the repetition became the new normal. Finding my footing, then easing down, finding my footing, then… I screamed as the thin basalt ledge I put my foot on broke, and I ended up swinging far away from the cliff, hanging twenty feet from the canopy below. The only thing that had kept me from plunging to my death was a thin vine reaching down over the overhang, the same vine holding the shark below me. My future rested in that slim strand, in its choice to hold or break, and I closed my eyes, not willing nor wanting to see. I closed my eyes and breathed. In and out, in and out. I closed my eyes and felt myself falling. I felt the impact, then felt no more.