The last tribal council has met and Linda and I are the winners of Survivor—Thanksgiving on Lummi Island. There were the usual reward and immunity challenges. Alliances formed, broke and reformed. There were tears, laughter, recriminations, and bonding. But, in the end, there’s just the two of us jumping around the living room yelling, “It’s all ours; it’s all ours! Don’t get me wrong. It was wonderful having eighteen people for dinner and showers this past weekend. But today, the last group was voted off the island, catching the 8:20am ferry. Tears of sorrow quickly turned to joy as Shawn, Kirsten, Forrest, Cole and Kenneth drove off carrying loads of clothes, diapers, dishes, toys and Teddy bears. And we sit on a large pile of sheets and towels watching the sun glint off Mt. Baker.
It started slow enough last week. Richard and Schuyler arrived first with a load of bricks, block and bags of concrete as Schuyler set up the first reward challenge. His goal was to have us build an outdoor oven based on an ancient Roman design. “What will we do with an oven located 100 yards from the house?” we asked. “We will bake bread and pizza,” said Schuyler. Bread and pizza are apparently the reward. Schuyler is an architect and building is its own reward. Schuyler’s childhood pal Andrew showed up to help and they unloaded some of the stuff. But, in the end, Schuyler decided it would be more of a challenge if he waited until young, strong, terribly fit Andrew left and the rain was coming down at about a half an inch an hour to begin building the oven, using two old dudes in rainsuits to mix and mortar. Schuyler won the reward challenge by continuing to work long after dark by flashlight.
The next day GMary drove in with some canned food and her lovable little cat Mitsy. On Wednesday, the stormy day, the Ashland contingent arrived after a horrible seven hour trip from their overnighter in Portland. They were tired and a bit cranky but it warmed my heart to watch them unload. Finally, someone who packs more crap into the back of an SUV than we do. Included in their collection of stuff was a baby bed, a bike trailer and a potty chair. On Thursday, Aran and Marie arrived from Anacortes with soup and his special “bad health cookies.” How we circled those chocolate chips. Dr. Dr.(sic) Mia drove up from Seattle with her collection of Ph’ds and the makings for apple pie. We then faced our first immunity challenge. How to seat everyone. Would we institute the abominable child’s table? Or would we invite the little buggers to dine with us on Caribbean soup and enchilada casserole? We hauled a folding table up from the basement to create a long medieval style banquet. Thirteen for dinner.
So far only Andrew had been voted off the island. But Friday morning we were sad to extinguish Mia’s torch. She had to get back to work. How that gal loves to work. Mayumi and Mariko and little Lilli had arrived late on Thursday. When Mayumi, who also loves to work, heard that Dr. Dr. Mia was getting to go work she begged to be able to go to work too. But Richard hid her keys and she had to stay for the banquet. Besides, Mayumi and Mariko had to continue their reward challenge which consists of seeing who can carry Lilli around the longest. Lilli is just one year old but weighs 26 lbs and is about four feet long, so carrying her is not as easy as it sounds.
Late in the day, Sarah, Schuyler’s girl friend and Sarah’s old school chum Thomason drove into the crowded driveway. Sarah had called ahead to ask for immunity for her dog Henry who she apparently takes everywhere. Henry, a retired greyhound race dog had injured his foot. Sarah wanted to allow Henry to enjoy the warmth of the kitchen. Schuyler relayed her plea. Atticus, Mariko’s dog, was at the moment of Schuyler’s fervent pitch, standing outside on the deck in the cold licking the window. We have hard and fast rules at Lummi Island about dogs in the house. Would Schuyler be able to form an alliance to amend the by-laws? I glanced at Mariko who was sitting on the couch with Miss Lilli. Mariko seemed to be smiling. Miraculously, a bubble, as if in a cartoon, appeared above her head. Inside the bubble were the words, “No f—————— way!” Following her cue I said, “I vote no.” Our alliance held.
Cole, age three, tried to form an immediate alliance with Thomason who he seemed to fall madly in love with (very much like Boston Rob and Amber in Survivor All Stars). He was relentless in his courting of her favors, entertained her by sliding down the basement stairs headfirst and by putting walnuts in a bowl and taking them out again and smiling like a maniac. He kind of liked Sarah too and after they were voted off the island the next day allowed that he “missed his ladies.”
In the meantime, Forrest had organized the ping pong challenge and was running a double elimination tournament. In an unusual move he had seeded Bobby, Lilli’s daddy, directly into the championship game. This caused some muttering even though it is acknowledged that Bob would have kicked everyone’s butt anyway. It was theorized that this ultimate seeding compliment was to make up for the unfortunate trash talking incident of last July. At any rate, Bobby arrived, ate dinner, thrashed Richard for the ultimate ping pong reward but was, alas, voted off the island. Atticus was voted off with him. Bobby also had to be at work the next day. By this time the rains had swollen the Nooksack River and flooded Slater Road the main route to Lummi, so that everyone, now voted off, had to take a long dark detour through the dreaded Ferndale.
Before Bob and Atticus left, the producers of our show awarded the entire group a vegetarian banquet that consisted of: tofurky, stuffing, yams, mashed potatoes, gravy, inari sushi, sushi rice, cabbage Ramen salad, green salad, cranberries, lentil loaf, pumpkin pies, apple pies, and raw pies (with whip cream).
On Saturday we voted Aran and Marie off the island. Aran’s immunity was low after chasing Atticus around the yard for several hours the previous day. We had drained him of free medical knowledge while discussing all our ailments, relating our hormonal problems and displaying various spots, sores and moles for his review and comment. Aran and Marie raced for a ferry while I stood by waiting for their inevitable call. Soon they rang asking if I could bring Aran’s cell phone to the dock. I did, failing to notice they had also left their gigantic soup pot, hydrochloric acid capsules and a water bottle.
On Saturday the entire remaining cast celebrated Cole’s third birthday with cake and presents. Young Kenneth demonstrated a slight crack in his otherwise phlegmatic eighteen month old demeanor by coveting his brother’s Spiderman car. “Waaan caahhh!” he said repeatedly. Saturday was a crucial day in the Thanksgiving Survivor show with many voted off the island. Sarah, Thomason, Schuyler and Henry were sent to the ferry. Then Mayumi, Mariko and Lilli. Alliances were reshuffled as we maneuvered to the crucial final days.
On Sunday morning, in a surprise twist, GMary and Mitsy voted themselves off the island. “I don’t really like Lummi Island,” said GMary just before she loaded up and raced to catch the ten o’clock.
We were down to the hardcore. Eight survivors. The clock was ticking. Could the Kirstens last another day? (In our family we recognize the power of matriarchy by designating families by the wife’s name, e.g., “The Mayumis, The Marikos, The Lindas, The Maries, etc. This in the interest in seeing the world as it really is). Could the Kirstens survive one more day without being voted off? Could Shawn do something right? Could we understand anything that Kenneth was saying? Could Forrest beat me in a game of pool? Could Cole make it through Sunday without a time-out? (Well, he would have made it if he hadn’t called his mom ‘stupid’ and then spit at her). But, miracle of miracles. They kept it together. Their alliance was firm. Richard was the next one voted off the island. He made the 7pm.
Which brings us to where we started this report. Only the Lindas are left standing. Survivors—Thanksgiving on Lummi Island. The quiet is excruciating.
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