‘Ship’ happens

You booked a luxury Hawaiian cruise. You expected cocktails, buffets, questionable karaoke, and maybe a sunburn. Instead, the ship exploded. Now you’re stranded on an uncharted tropical island with three other survivors, approximately zero useful qualifications, and a rapidly developing emotional attachment to anything that can hold clean water. Find food. Build shelter. Treat injuries. Survive storms. Scavenge wreckage. Explore the island. Try not to die of dehydration, infection, wildlife, or someone else’s catastrophically confident survival advice. Fortunately, cruise debris keeps washing ashore. Unfortunately, it’s usually somebody’s formalwear. And somewhere beyond the beach, the island is hiding something. Welcome to paradise. Please ignore the screaming.