Chapter 237: 234 Plan Through
Chapter 237: Chapter 234 Plan Through
With the addition of a sail, the speed of the liferaft’s drift noticeably quickened.
The waves buoyed the light raft, carrying it far away, especially during strong winds, when it could cover at least dozens of kilometers a day.
Based on Bi Fang’s earlier judgment, the production team had dropped him in the North Atlantic, so he should drift eastward to have a greater chance of encountering land.
“To determine direction at sea, one mainly relies on a compass. Without a compass, one can only rely on the sun or the stars, and if you have a watch, we can use the watch and the sun to determine direction. There are many methods to use a watch to gauge direction.
The simplest one is to lay the watch flat and align the hour hand with the sun. The line that bisects the angle of less than 180 degrees between the hour hand and the 12 o’clock on the watch dial points to the south.”
Here we go, it’s time for Master Fang’s show-off time again.
The audience perked up their ears, wanting to know how to determine direction on the open sea when there is nothing to rely on.
The situation seems even worse than the desert, at least in the desert you can rely on the dunes for direction.
“Of course, at sea, you can’t be sure you’re level, so other methods must be used, which are a bit more complicated…”
The Earth rotates 360 degrees in 24 hours, 15 degrees per hour, and the hour hand of a watch generally moves twice as fast as the sun. Based on this principle, you can roughly determine the direction using a watch and the sun.
At 6 in the morning, the sun is roughly in the east, casting shadows towards the west. At this time, point the hour hand of your watch towards the sun, and the “12” on the dial will point west.
If you rotate the dial 90 degrees, halving 6 o’clock, so the “3” on the dial faces the sun, the “12” will then point north.
At noon, when the sun is in the south, halve 12 o’clock so that the “6” on the dial faces the sun, the “12” still points north.
At other times, change the time accordingly, and the effect is the same.
“The above methods are only suitable north of the Tropic of Cancer. If south of the Tropic of Cancer, align the direction of the sun with the 12 o’clock on the dial, and the midpoint between the hour hand and 12 o’clock points north. Also, pay attention to the time zone issue; if you don’t know, you can spend a whole day confirming the time of the sun’s rise and set, then adjust your watch accordingly.”
“But I don’t have a watch, unless you tell me the time, and it has to be friends from Europe.”
No sooner had Bi Fang’s voice fallen than a barrage of comments appeared, all from time-reporting birds.
“No need, besides these methods, we can also determine our direction by judging the wind direction based on our location,”
Bi Fang chuckled and shook his head; they had underestimated him—without tools, he couldn’t be stumped.
The grand master of geography, Fang, made his entrance once again.
Beyond tools, wind direction is the best teacher for navigation.
Sometimes the sea will blow winds according to the season. Especially in the monsoon climate zones, in summer, because the temperature of the sea is lower than the land, the atmospheric pressure over the sea is higher than on land, causing winds to blow from the sea towards the land; in winter, because the land temperature is lower than the sea, the atmospheric pressure over land is higher than over the sea, causing winds to blow from the land towards the sea.
One quarter of the Earth’s surface can be defined as having a monsoon climate, and the North Atlantic, being close to Europe, is no exception.
Moreover, there is a famous ocean current here, the North Atlantic Current, which spans almost the entire ocean. Even without wind, following the direction of the current could also lead you to the European continent.
All was clear, with food, bone hooks, and now a sail, Bi Fang was in high spirits and couldn’t wait to set sail, conquering the sea by following the wind direction.
As the strong wind blew, the canvas swiftly bulged, and the waves carried the liferaft flying towards the distance, with fish hooks unable to sink into the sea, likewise drifting on the surface.
It could actually go this fast!
The audience was dumbfounded—were they sure this thing wasn’t a speedboat?
It looked inflatable on the surface, but was there actually an engine installed beneath the raft?
Luckily, the strong wind lasted only for a while, and the speed of the liferaft gradually slowed, no longer so exaggerated.
Bi Fang braced his hands against the tent, letting it face into the wind. He hadn’t cut the tent completely open; the bout of strong wind earlier nearly tore it apart at the seams, showing the force of the wind.
Transforming the tent into a sail proved to be a success. Compared to two days before, without a sail, he clearly felt he was closer to the mainland.
The reason was the sea water that had a slight change in color, though, to the audience, it all looked one color, hardly discernible for any deeper change.
Using the color of the sea water to determine depth isn’t really friendly toward those with color blindness or color weakness, is it?
Bi Fang did not dismantle the entire tent, but rather half of it, leaving enough to firmly secure the tent. If it rained again, he just needed to hold on tight to both sides to stay secure.
The audience was captivated by Bi Fang maneuvering the liferaft; his streamlined arms pulled against the tactile canvas, with occasional cool seawater splashing over his feet, as he sailed swiftly across the ocean.
By noon, Bi Fang sat down to rest and supplement his nutrition, grabbing the third squid to eat and occasionally tearing off some horsetail kelp for a balanced meat and vegetable diet, to avoid constipation.
By this point, except for the last squid used as a container, all three had gone into his stomach.
Bi Fang didn’t entertain the idea of saving food because, aside from the four squids, he had made some catches in the past two days—two North Atlantic mackerels!
That’s right, the same type of fish Bi Fang had encountered before!
What a twist of fate!
As if knowing he had grown tired of squid, they had made the long journey from the North Sea, especially for him.
Both mackerels were the size of Bi Fang’s forearm, caught yesterday as he passed through a certain sea area. These fish like to school, so Bi Fang stayed in that spot. Unfortunately, he wasn’t very lucky and only managed to catch two by nightfall.
But no matter, two were enough to last him for three days. The mackerels were fatty and tender, with a fat content much higher than that of the squid, providing even more energy when eaten.
Wiping the corner of his mouth, Bi Fang fished out the hook with an experimental mindset and found there was another catch.
A little hairfin anchovy!
Hey, his luck was picking up.
The fish wasn’t big, only about ten centimeters, much smaller than the mackerels, but Bi Fang was still grinning from ear to ear. Since catching the squid and obtaining bait, his “sea fishing” venture had been smooth sailing, and he had been catching fish day after day, with no need to worry about food.
More importantly, this situation was only going to get better. Both mackerel and hairfin anchovy had blood in them, as well as internal organs with a strong, pungent smell, making them more suitable for fishing. Perhaps he might even catch bigger fish in the future, like the North Atlantic salmon, the kind that could feed him for days!
[It’s over, Old Fang has found good food again.]
[Damn it, did he come up here to stock up?]
[What kind of fish is that?]
[The king of sea fishing,]
[Eh, I think I’ve seen it, they seem to sell it at our local market.]
“Yes, hairfin anchovy is the foreign name for it. In our country, we call it a spring fish, which sounds much nicer. This fish is delicious and widely distributed, making it a great economic species.”
Bi Fang quickly lowered the fish hook again. Hairfin anchovies are schooling fish that are also very active, and they feed frequently even in winter, on small shrimp and plankton, hoping to catch more.
What’s critical is that this fish is excellent bait. Cod, whales, seals, dolphins, sharks, tuna, and squids all like to eat it, having no ‘fish rights’ so to speak.
[Wow, does that indirectly mean this fish is especially tasty?]
[Clear logic, well-founded, flawless—worth a try.]
[It’s pretty delicious, my mom buys it often.]
The tentacles of the last squid had been completely peeled off, and it wasn’t every time that Bi Fang could catch a fish successfully; often he would pull up the line to find the hook had snapped or the bait was gone.
Previously, to catch the mackerels, he had used two cuttlebones and eight squid tentacles. Afterward, Bi Fang no longer used cuttlebones to fashion fish hooks but real bones instead.
The jawbones of those two mackerels were harder and more resilient than the cuttlebone.
However, this time Bi Fang didn’t spend too much time fishing. After catching three hairfin anchovies and feeling it was enough, he packed up and left.
Staying in the area, teeming with many animals’ bait, could easily result in encounters with animals he couldn’t handle, like large sharks.
With this in mind, Bi Fang quickly set up his tent and continued forward, pushed by the strong wind.
The great wind starts to rise.
But what no one noticed was that shortly after Bi Fang left, a huge shadow moved under the water and opened its mouth wide, violently gulping down the school of hairfin anchovies.
“Pfft!”
“Whew, refreshing!”
Bi Fang, hands on hips, was slightly tanner than a week ago, but his eyes sparkled brightly, looking energetic and lively. Days at sea had given him the likeness of a seafarer, and perhaps in a few more days, he would be even darker.
Facing the chilly sea breeze, Bi Fang didn’t feel cold at all. Having just eaten, his body was warm all over, completely unfazed by the cold wind.
Moreover, the King Fish’s Stomach digested the food very cleanly, rapidly generating heat.
“`
Indeed, it was because of his stomach that Bi Fang was able to eat raw food without hesitation; otherwise he would have undoubtedly tried to minimize the risk, such as by drying the fish to make jerky, which, despite its inferior taste and still not being 100% safe, would significantly reduce the danger.
“Truly, the most difficult part of a survival mission is actually the first few days. When you’re new to an environment, your mentality and body can’t adapt, and you lack sufficient resources to gain a survival advantage. But once you get through the initial days, you’ll find that survival isn’t as difficult as you thought,” he said.
On the sixth day of ocean survival, everything started to look up. The mainland was getting closer, and there was even a possibility of encountering land within twenty-one days. Moreover, the closer one got to shore, the greater the likelihood of finding an island.
Bi Fang categorized the difficulties of survival into different levels. For survival missions lasting twenty days or a month, the hardest part was the first week. After that, if no accidents happened, the chances of survival would be very high.
Of course, that probability was based on not just barely scraping through the first seven days. If the first week was spent fighting hunger, then it was highly likely that each day would be harder than the last—the so-called ups and downs, downs, downs, downs…
Oh, without even the ups, just downs.
If the survival time were extended, the second difficult period would probably come in the second month when one would face nutritional and psychological problems. Prolonged high-stress survival could lead to mental breakdowns.
If you can get through all that, then you’re indeed a natural talent with a strong will and rich experience. You just need to deal with immediate diseases and the psychological stresses of prolonged isolation.
After riding the waves for a few hours, evening approached.
The setting sun spread out, casting a layer of somber deep red over the winter ocean. The waves rose and fell, reflecting dazzling light, as if sprinkled with crushed gold.
Bi Fang squinted his eyes, preparing to put down the tent for rest, when suddenly he noticed a hazy shadow in the distance.
What is that?
Bi Fang got up to look, trying to see more clearly, but the direction was directly facing the sunset, making it glaring and blurry.
The production team also noticed Bi Fang’s unusual behavior and quickly sent a drone up, following his line of sight to film, while zooming in on the image. The audience in the live broadcast grew curious and, as the picture became clearer, many of them opened their mouths in surprise.
It was actually an island!!!
[It’s an island!]
[Old Fang! It’s an island!]
[Damn, damn, damn, it’s an island!]
[Old Fang hit the jackpot!]
The barrage was as overwhelming as a tsunami, nearly all of it focused on the appearance of the island.
The platform quickly sent out a notification, which read: On the sixth day of drifting at sea, an island was discovered!
Upon receiving the notification, more curious viewers flooded in like a tide. The number of viewers surged, and before long, it broke two million globally, excluding those watching on television.
To encounter an island while drifting at sea!
What incredible luck!
As Bi Fang had mentioned, the person who survived more than a hundred days at sea had never encountered one!
Peter’s mouth fell open, unable to believe that Master Fang had found an island in just six days. His idol lived up to his reputation!
Incredible!
Bi Fang was equally shocked inside, realizing he was the blind cat that chanced upon a dead rat — stumbling upon a small island purely by accident.
Blessed by the goddess of luck.jpg!
Without any hesitation, Bi Fang quickly adjusted the sail’s direction, heading toward the island, but before he could reach it, the wind started to die down; by nightfall, he was still a good distance away from the island.
What the hell, why is the wind suddenly gone? Where’s the energy from the storm?
Did it run out of steam so quickly?
Bi Fang was slightly annoyed; just when he needed wind, there was none, but a storm would come when he was exhausted, right?
With no other choice, Bi Fang lowered the sail and started paddling toward the island with his hands.
They say ‘hope to see a mountain run dead horse’ – it’s spot on, and looking at the island might as well kill Bi Fang.
After paddling most of the day, Bi Fang collapsed inside the life raft, nearly sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes back: “I can’t do it, I’m about to die of exhaustion!”
“`
[How can you stop now!]
[Master Fang, get a move on! The island is right there!]
[Starting only with a life raft, all equipment is scavenged]
[What are you doing, Master Fang!]
[Don’t stop now!]
Bi Fang almost vomited blood when he saw the barrage of comments. He had been paddling for nearly a kilometer by now, the equivalent to running three to five kilometers, and his arms were incredibly sore.
But the island was so close; how could he possibly give up? After a brief rest, Bi Fang quickly gathered his strength and continued paddling.
The sun had completely set, and only by the stars in the sky could he barely discern his direction, which was also very difficult. It was easy to drift off course unintentionally. Bi Fang paddled and worried at the same time, fearing he might be going in the wrong direction. Fortunately, he had the audience to help him, and he could also cheat a little by using night vision mode to observe the direction of the island.
Three hours later.
“I… I can’t go on.”
Bi Fang curled up inside the life raft like a dead dog, tongue lolling out, his body sweating profusely, a few hundred meters away from the island, he just couldn’t paddle any longer.
Whoever said paddling was easy was clearly exhausted from it.
Don’t say paddling is easy ever again!
Paddling is actually the most exhausting!
[How can a man admit defeat?]
[You’re giving up already? No way, no way, can’t believe someone can’t swim a few more kilometers!]
[Just a few more kilometers, Old Fang what are you doing, get up and keep paddling!]
Bi Fang was too weak to argue, now so tired he couldn’t even utter a complete sentence and lay motionless as if asleep, until half an hour later when he suddenly woke up.
It’s over, I almost fell asleep, don’t get freaking swept away by the waves!
Bi Fang got a shock, hurriedly got up, only to find that the waves had carried him closer to the island.
Only a dozen meters left!
Yay!
Although he was very happy, Bi Fang, approaching the island, didn’t rush ashore. Instead, he surveyed the surrounding environment to prevent any rocks from tearing the life raft, which would be a major loss.
Then, under the faint moonlight, Bi Fang was finally able to make out the shape of the island.
The island was very small, extremely small—to what extent? Approximately the size of a villa’s plot…
[Such a tiny island…]
[I’m afraid there are no animals on this island, right?]
[I doubt it]
[It’s hardly habitable for humans]
But even if the island was small, Bi Fang wasn’t disappointed. It was a stroke of great fortune to encounter an island at all; some drift for over a hundred days without seeing one, and he had found one in six days—it was sheer dumb luck.
Of course, it might also be due to being close to the mainland.
The chance of encountering an island in the open sea depths is slim to none, but close to the mainland, the number of islands significantly increases.
Bi Fang was content because the island had trees!
If you can’t stay, turn it into a supply station.
Trees = tools = improved living environment = greater chance of survival √
Plan approved.
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