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somewhere in the outback of northwestern Australia. A crescent moon silhouettes the gnarled trunks of scattered eucalyptus trees, the only feature in a dark desert plain which stretches out for miles in all directions. Aside from the occasional howl of a dingo or screech of a passing bat, the only sound comes from the tramp of blistered, tired feet, worn boots stumbling over the cracked mud.
Two men, both worryingly thin, stagger slowly through the night. Under the faint flicker of his dying head torch, nineteen-year-old Will Chaffey can just make out the ridges of the abandoned track they're following. Exhaustion, thirst, and above all else hunger have left him in a zombie-like state, awake and walking, but just barely. The night air offers some respite from the heat of the day, but it won't be long before the sun rises again.
how much longer can you go on like this the mental strain the anxiety of not knowing exactly what we were going to do except follow the track that anxiety was pretty intense and so to be facing the prospect of you know a hundred mile journey in the australian outback with no guaranteed sources of water and you're already starving it just it was a very stressful experience
Will plants his back over his shoulder, looking for the light of Jeff's torch. For nearly two months now, the friends have walked in each other's footsteps, through desert and jungle, over ridgelines and into canyons. It was a great adventure, until it all went wrong. Hunger was getting a lot worse, and fear. We walked day and night. We walked and walked, and I remember...
I think it was a third or fourth night, just being so exhausted that I just collapsed on the track. Finally, it all overwhelms him. Dizzy and weak, Will looks up at the night sky, the heavens spinning overhead, and there is a dull thud as his face hits the dirt. Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice?
Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet young backpacker Will Chaffey. He and his friend Jeff are on the search for an elusive serpent, taking them deep into the unpredictable wilderness of Northern Australia.
But with the weather and the wildlife against them, their plan slowly unravels. Their supplies dwindle, and they find themselves in a two-month long battle to stay alive. The thought of dying of thirst, I think, was probably in my mind a lot. And you try to push it out of your head, but I was constantly thinking that this could, in fact, be the end. Lost and exhausted, Will and Jeff must find a way to stave off starvation without becoming food themselves.
I'm John Hopkins from Noisa. This is Real Survival Stories. It's March the 1st, 1989, the Kimberley region of northwestern Australia. 15,000 feet above the outback, a small plane carries two American friends over the vast, barren landscape. Will Chaffey and Jeff Cunningham sit hunched in their seats, backpacks wedged between their legs.
They've hitched a ride on a small aircraft which is delivering mail to a remote cattle station on the Drysdale River. During the wet season, most roads are flooded. Flying is the only way in. As the aircraft banks sharply to the left, it gives them a view all the way to the horizon. Will pushes his golden hair out of his face and presses his nose against the glass. The sun-baked plains look otherworldly.
Here and there, green clumps of bushes and trees stand in stark contrast to the vast expanse of red earth. Unsurprisingly, their pilot is curious about what they're doing out here. Will tells him they intend to hike deep into the Prince Regent National Park in search of a rare snake. The pilot thought we were crazy. He really, he kept repeating, you blokes gotta be crazy. You gotta be crazy.
As we're flying over this broken sandstone, escarpments and gorges and jagged rivers and canyons and then these great swaths of open, sort of dry, eucalypt country that are so characteristic of Australia. And yeah, he thought we were nuts. As the pilot laughs to himself about their plan, Will takes a moment to triple check his rucksack.
Though no stranger to backcountry exploration, this will be by far the longest trek he has attempted. He looks over to his companion. Jeff is 15 years his senior and has visited this region before. They met a year earlier while volunteering in a Queensland nature reserve. Jeff would tell me about this place, the Kimberley in Western Australia, that he really wanted to get back to. And he needed somebody to help him split petrol costs and
He told me about the Mitchell Plateau and the beauty of the waterfall there and the incredible fishing and hiking and spotlighting for wild animals. And so he sold me on this idea of going to the Kimberley with him. Jeff is a self-taught expert on reptiles.
It was his idea to get funding from Australia Geographic magazine to come here in search of the rough scaled python, which, according to Jeff, was believed to be extinct until very recently. Who knows if they'll find it or not, but they've promised to write an article documenting their efforts nonetheless. Will jumped at the chance. It's just the kind of opportunity he's been dreaming of ever since he left home almost two years ago.
I was 18 and I basically arrived in Australia knowing no one. I had had a really rough senior year. I went to sort of a New England boarding school in Massachusetts and I'd had a pretty rough bike accident, fallen, had a concussion, almost got kicked out of school, but managed to sort of linger on and then just decided I wanted to get out of the US.
So when we got the letter back from Australia Geographic, I was thrilled. This was a great magazine. It felt to me like Australia was really giving me a place. Stepping off the small plane and onto the dirt-covered airstrip, the humid heat blasts Will's freckled face. He squints out at the endless scrubland beyond. Then he and Jeff share a smile and start trekking forwards.
So we just walked down from the landing strip to the Drysdale River and thought, okay, this is the adventure's beginning. This is going to be exciting. It's day one of Will and Jeff's Outback expedition. And by 11 a.m., it's already staggeringly hot, constantly parched. They're both guzzling water from their canteens. But in spite of the heat, their surroundings are awe-inspiring.
You felt like you were the only person on Earth. There were no jet contrails in the sky. There were no sound of any humans or anything. You just, it was a completely unbroken wilderness. Ahead of them is a two-week trek across rolling, dusty, windswept plains. After that, Will and Jeff should hit the Prince Regent River. Then it's another two or three weeks, picking their way through ancient rainforest. And it's here...
They hope to find their mysterious python. But it's going to be tough going. They're trekking in the wet season, which not only means soaring temperatures and suffocating humidity, but also colossal downpours. We'd have these incredible thunderstorms that would come over and just...
drop lightning all around. We saw lightning strike within 50 yards of us and just incredible torrential downpours. And I just remember sitting there thinking, you know, there's no guarantee that you're going to make it out of this excursion alive. You know, you just have no idea, really. You're not experienced enough
If they survive the journey, their destination is a large waterfall and lagoon near the coast called the King Cascade. From there, they've arranged for a pleasure boat, the Kimberley Explorer, to pick them up. Of course, when that'll be exactly is harder to say. They've cautiously scheduled the rendezvous for the 23rd of April, but that's just a best guess. They have enough supplies for six weeks, which they hope will be more than enough. It rains every day for a month.
What was already an epic hike with heavy gear becomes harder and slower. But as the days pass and the two men slog their way to the headwaters of the Prince Regent River, the landscape gradually starts to change. They begin to see creeks which lead down past slopes and escarpments into sandstone valleys filled with tropical rainforest. And when the weather relents, the world around them comes to life.
When the storms were gone, the bird life along the riparian forests along the river were just incredible. Collared lorikeets and sulfur-crested cockatoos and pink and gray galahs, willy-wagtails, and just an incredible amount of bird life along the forests there that galleried the river. So that was an amazing thing. Of course, there's plenty of wildlife they need to be wary of, too.
freshwater crocodiles, wild boar, dingoes, snakes, spiders and scorpions, to name a few. But both men are experienced in the bush and know what to look out for. In reality, the biggest danger they face is the land itself. Out here, even a twisted ankle could be fatal. And then there's the heat. Despite the daily downpours, they wouldn't be the first to succumb to severe dehydration in the Kimberley. My big concern was actually dying of thirst.
Because the year before, too, when I had actually arrived in Australia, there had been two boys who had died outside of Halls Creek when their Jeep had gotten bogged in the sand. The boys had made a sort of an arrow out of stones pointing away from their truck in the direction that they were trying to go. And in Australia, it's just so hot during the wet season that you, without water, you're not going to make it 10 miles.
As days turn into weeks, Will and Jeff journey along the Prince Regent River, surrounded by jungle flora. Each night they go spotlighting, using their head torches to find all manner of wildlife. But the boys seem to uncover everything except their elusive, rough-scaled python. By day they clamber over tree trunks and hack through vines, sometimes crossing the surging river in order to make progress. The two men often pass the hours in silence,
conserving energy as their hunger levels grow. Their diet mainly consists of dehydrated ration packs along with whatever they can find in the bush. We only had brought enough food to have one, let's see, two meals a day. We'd have a cup full of powdered milk and muesli in the morning. And then we had a freeze-dried packet of beef and beans for the evening meal. And then in between, I would fish for lunch or try to find some forage for food.
They have an old guidebook which highlights various fruits and nuts to look out for, but they soon discover that wet season is not the time for foraging. The fact of the matter was that at that time of year there really wasn't that much to eat unless you catch a kangaroo or something like that. So we immediately started losing huge amounts of weight. Although hunger becomes a constant companion, their bodies seem to adapt to the long days and small meals.
They're making good progress and should be fine until they reach King Cascade, where the daily tourists and fishing boats can help them out with supplies. This episode is brought to you by Honda. When you test drive the all-new Prologue EV, there's a lot that can impress you about it. There's the class-leading passenger space, the clean, thoughtful design, and the intuitive technology. But out of everything, what you'll really love most is that it's a Honda. Visit honda.com slash EV to see offers.
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It's mid-afternoon on April the 12th, after a relentless 42 days of bushwhacking. Will and Jeff finally emerge from the rainforest and are greeted by the majestic sight of the King Cascade, their final destination. It's an open, natural amphitheater, a kilometer wide, mangrove-fringed lagoon with a sparkling waterfall at its head. It feels like the picture-perfect ending.
From here, a river bends away into the distance, flowing another 60 kilometers to the coast and out into the Indian Ocean. Despite not finding their python, it's still a relief and a victory to have finished the trek. And it shouldn't be too long before a boat comes chugging into the lagoon. They're ahead of schedule, but have eaten more of their food than they anticipated. They're down to their last few ration packs.
We figured there'd be people there and you know maybe somebody would be cooking up pancakes because you know at this point we were pretty pretty hungry so yeah so we got to the King Cascade and I just remember shaking hands with Jeff and him basically saying like yeah from you know it's the hard part is done now we just put our sunglasses on and wait they sit back and relax for a few hours but there's no sign of a boat
As evening draws in, they climb round to the top of the falls and set up camp in a small cave overlooking the lagoon. Reluctantly, they pull out yet another packet of freeze-dried beef. Never mind. Hopefully a boat will come along in time for breakfast. But the next morning brings disappointment, as does the morning after, and the one after that. By April the 15th, concern is growing. Their own rendezvous with the Kimberley Explorer isn't for another week, on April the 23rd.
but they're almost out of supplies. Every day they search for food around the lagoon, but with little success.
the first day or two we actually ran out of coffee and then and then we just started running out like then we ran out of powdered milk and then we ran out of any rice and then and then we were eating figs wild figs that we would find and there were plenty of fig trees but they weren't always ripe we ate sort of a aquatic sort of lettuce but you know again none of these things give you a huge amount of calories
They both look up at the banks of dark clouds swirling above them. Could the weather explain the lack of boats? Perhaps a cyclone has landed further down the coast. There's no way of knowing. All they can do is wait and hope. Yet another day passes. They sit atop the cascades, sleeping, swatting away mosquitoes, and taking turns to keep watch.
Their eyes remain fixed on the lagoon and the river, waiting for the glint of a hull to come around the bend, straining their ears for the faintest sound of a motor. But nothing comes. So at that point, I was definitely feeling very concerned that we needed to really get out of there as soon as possible.
So I do remember one time climbing up to the top of the cascade and just sort of sitting in this little pool up there and just meditating and just thinking, okay, examine what's going on. You're out in the middle of the Australian outback. No one is expecting you back for at least another three weeks. You know, you don't have a radio. They're facing a growing number of tricky questions. How long can they keep waiting? Another week? Two? Then what? Their only alternative is to hike back out.
But that really is a last resort. It's April the 16th, day 47 in the wilderness. With nothing but unripe figs to sustain them, Will and Jeff must do something. Beneath the surface of the lagoon, there is an abundance of food hiding in the brackish waters. Tuna, snapper, even small sharks. Will has spent hours staring at his fishing rod, wrestling with hunger. There is just one thing holding him back: crocodiles.
Not the small freshwater crocs they've often come across over the course of their journey. Saltwater crocodiles. The 18-foot long, 2,000-pound monsters that inhabit this stretch of the river. At King Cascade, their threat is very real. Tragedies have happened here in the recent past. The year before, it had been the site of a crocodile attack. An American woman, Ginger Meadows, had been sailing to Darwin.
And they had been in the water by the waterfall. They were sort of waist deep in water apparently. And all of a sudden they saw a crocodile coming into the inlet. And Ginger Meadows apparently freaked out and tried to swim toward the boat. As the crocodile approached them, the crocodile immediately just grabbed her, took her underwater, and then she was taken down and never, never seen again.
Saltwater crocs are one of the most effective ambush predators in all of nature. They can remain hidden and perfectly still in the water for hours before launching themselves into the air, snatching anything from the banks. Fishing here is an enormous risk, but what choice do they have? Will takes a deep breath, picks up his rod and heads for the water. He climbs carefully down the falls, slippery rocks, edging along boulders, looking for a platform to fish from.
Eventually, he settles on a spot the maximum distance from the water that his line will allow. For the next few hours, he sits in the sweltering heat, eyes fixed on the lagoon, startled by every wave and ripple. By evening, when he walks back into the camp, he is shaky and exhausted, but it was worth it. He returns with several small fish ready to cook over the fire. They eat ravenously.
For the next few days, Will spends most of his time perched precariously on a rocky ledge, fishing for their supper. But it's slim pickings. Aside from an occasional catfish, he catches nothing big enough to truly satiate their hunger. The truth is, even if things improve, they can only live off fish for so long. "Fish don't have a whole lot of
carbohydrates and so jeff was saying yeah you know you can get what they call trout starvation which is you're just eating a lot of fish but you're still starving which is basically what was happening to us and so after a while you just don't even have strength to fish it's mid-afternoon on april the 19th day 49 over a week since they arrived at king cascade will is back on his ledge amongst the rocks and the water and the trees desperately trying to haul in his reel
The rod bends under the strain. He's finally caught something big. It seems to be a shark, a proper meal, and he's not about to let it go. But as he wrestles with the line, something catches his eye. A chunk of driftwood floating at the mouth of the lagoon.
Every day, as the tide went in and out, these gigantic trees would go in and out, you know, in this sort of gray, opaque, muddy water. And then one afternoon I was fishing, all the tide was going out, all the trees were going out, and suddenly one tree I noticed in the far distance was coming in. And I thought, that's, you know, huh. Will's pulse quickens.
This tree seems to be moving against the current. In fact, it's drifting directly towards him. There's only one explanation. I immediately realized that it was a crocodile and it was a big crocodile. It was four and a half meters, about 18 feet. It was a very large crocodile. And as it swam in to the inlet, it sort of, it was making a bow wave. And I just remember...
just being so almost like hypnotized by the crocodile. As you see it come toward you, it's just like death. It's just a feeling of death and awe and fear. Will is 10 feet above the water, but he's still too close for comfort. He desperately wants to back away, but the rod strains in his hand. He can't let it go. Without it, they'll starve. The crocodile gets closer.
20 meters, 10 meters. Will can now make out the scaled snout, the curved teeth, and the narrow, unblinking yellow eyes. Still, he doesn't move. And I'm thinking, it's clearly seen the shark and me, and there's no way I'm going to stop it from coming in here and grabbing the shark. And then just as I'm thinking that, from the very top of the cascade, I hear Jeff shout, Crocodile! Really loud, Crocodile!
And at the moment he said that, the crocodile just, you know, boop, disappeared under the water. Jeff's voice echoes around the lagoon and the croc vanishes. All Will can now see are ripples fanning across the water. There is a foreboding silence. He can't wait any longer. He quickly ties off the rod to a rock and scampers away from the ledge, climbing rapidly back up the cascade. Will and Jeff watch from their camp as the tide goes out
leaving their shark, their meal, to slowly die on the mudflats. They're famished, but there's no chance either of them is going down to retrieve it. For the next couple of days, with the saltwater crocodile still lurking in the bay, Will continues to fish as and when he can, but the pressure is starting to take its toll. I could see how thin Jeff was looking. He could see how thin I was. You know, we essentially just needed to conserve as much energy as we possibly could.
I was doing most of the fishing and yeah, I guess I started to resent that because, you know, you'd have to climb up and down the King Cascade, which is a sort of slippery waterfall with a, you know, potentially crocodile filled lagoon at the base of it. And so I'm going up and down, up and down. And then one day I just thought to myself, you know, Jeff, you know, you're going to fish. You can fish. Jeff is no fisherman, but Will desperately needs a break. He hands over the rod.
A few hours later, Will returns, looking for his friend. He searches the rock terraces, but there's no sign of Jeff. Will casts around in the mangroves along the lagoon, calling his name. Eventually, he finds him by the water, but relief soon turns to rage. Jeff is standing there, clutching just the thin fishing line in his hands. All around him lie broken pieces of reel.
Jeff has broken their precious rod. "I looked down at my reel and I was just furious, absolutely furious because of course this is the thing that had been keeping us alive. And I said to Jeff, you know, like, what the hell did you do to my reel?" Jeff ignores him. He's throwing a line out, trying to get a tuna to bite. The nearby fish is massive, over four feet long, a feast. But with no way to reel it in and the crocodile lurking, they're forced to watch yet another meal go begging.
And here was this fish, you know, in this dwindling pool. It was so close and we were so hungry. And Jeff and I were just, you know, screaming at each other. And then we both watched as the tide came back in a little bit and the fish just went out into the main channel. And we were both just like furious at each other. He's screaming at me saying, you know, I had him, I had him on the line. He was on the line. If, you know, if I could have just held him on the line.
So we both were sort of staring at each other, screaming at each other. For a moment the two friends nearly come to blows, but they step back from the brink. Their bond is now at breaking point. Both are increasingly feeling the effects of starvation. When the body is deprived of the calories it needs, it starts breaking down its own tissues for food, disrupting the vital organs. The brain stops fully functioning, affecting sleep, concentration, and mood.
There's a saying that man is nine missed meals away from murder and we had missed out on quite a few more meals than just nine. Waiting day after day after day was just, it just wore on your mind. It became so difficult, the mental game, just to sort of keep it together. When Will gets back to camp, he packs up his things. The temptation to go it alone starts growing.
I moved my camp out of the cave. You know, I wasn't going to sleep next to Jeff. I was going to be on my own from that point forward.
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It's April the 23rd, the day the Kimberley Explorer is meant to arrive, but there's no sign of the boat. Will and Jeff have been waiting more than ten days at King Cascade. They've patched things up, both acknowledging the strain they're under, but they are emaciated and exhausted. With predators circling, their fishing rod in pieces, and their bodies shedding more weight by the day, it's clear that staying where they are could cost them their lives.
We had the big debate about whether, you know, should we stay or go? I mean, at this point, it was absolutely 100% an emergency situation. And then we had decided that if the boat didn't come in, we were going to have to walk out. As the sun sets, they turn their attention to plan B, hiking out. Retracing their steps would take too long. The most direct way out is to head south. The only map they have for that route is over 20 years old and doesn't tell them much.
Studying its frayed pages, the men spot something. At the very bottom of it is a tiny red line marking a dirt track along with an arrow pointing to Mount Elizabeth Station. Mount Elizabeth is, or at least was, a remote cattle ranch if it's still there. It could be as far as 200 kilometers away. Hiking over rugged highland and desert plains for 15 hours a day, they might be able to do it in a week.
if they find food and water en route. But there is the very real possibility they could vanish in the wilderness without a trace. You really do think like, how the heck did I get here? And how the heck am I going to get out of here? You know, how is this thing going to end? Am I going to be a pile of bones in the Australian outback? Or am I going to make it out? But after so long waiting, they decide enough is enough. They need to get moving now while they still can.
In a stroke of luck, on his final fishing trip and just using the hand line, Will manages to catch a haul of catfish. Enough for each of them to fill up on. A good omen, perhaps. The next morning, with the sun peeking out in the distance, the pair lace their boots, shoulder their packs, and set off.
So you're just constantly thinking about food. All the veins in my chest and in my arms had become very visible. My eyes were sunken. My face was very, very thin. I could tell I was really thin. So mentally, you really had to keep a lid on your anxiety and on your fear. You just had to go one step at a time. Eventually, they climb up out of the canyons of the Prince Regent and emerge onto a plateau.
Squinting into the sun, they take a compass heading. Ahead of them is a daunting expanse of open scrubland, dry, dotted with eucalyptus, and seemingly without end. They check their map again, looking for a creek where they can refill their canteens. Then, they'll need to find the track to Mount Elizabeth. And so, for three days, we were, you know, just orienteering, you know, over this trackless wilderness.
And then all of my thoughts were like, well, you know, we'll get to the track. It's almost Easter. There'll probably be four wheel drivers out there. You know, there'll be people out there. You know, we're going to be having, you know, sausages and potato chips. For three days, they stagger south, eking out the last scraps of fish and figs they have left, carefully nursing the small amounts of water in their canteens. From sunup to sundown, they keep moving, sometimes continuing through darkness, too.
placing one blistered, aching foot in front of the other. It's April the 30th, day 59 in the wilderness, a week since leaving King Cascade. The sun beats down, warping the air into a rippling haze. Will shuffles forward in a trance, eyes fixed on the dusty ground ahead of him. He's standing in what might be an old stream bed, but then he notices the tire marks.
Very old and barely visible, but unmistakable. Jeep tracks. Will casts around for a landmark. With a crushing sense of disappointment, it becomes apparent that this is it. This is the track they had hoped would be their salvation.
It didn't look like anybody had been on that track in years. So when we got there, then I was like, oh man, we are really in the middle of nowhere and we don't even know where we are anymore. They've now reached the edge of their map and there's no turning back. All they can do is follow the track wherever it leads. They walk through the night, navigating by the light of their head torches. Will's head spins. His breathing is slow and labored.
and his thoughts turned to loved ones back in America. - You know, I had a journal and pages, you know, that I could write my goodbyes to people too. And so I was sure that if I, you know, if I had to say goodbye to people, I would have the means to do it, which was a surprisingly comforting thought to me. We walked and walked, and I remember, I think it was a third or fourth night, just being so exhausted that I just collapsed on the track.
Early the next morning, Will slowly opens his eyes. He rubs the skin on his arms and legs. They're covered in painful bites. He collapsed on top of an ant's nest. Just his luck. He and Jeff wearily get to their feet and shoulder their bags. Against the odds, they're still here, and they've got to keep moving. Their only hope is to keep following the old jeep track. Then, after just a few minutes, something catches Will's eye. A tiny glimpse of color.
It's hidden amongst the scrub and twisted trees. It's something man-made. A barely visible footpath leads off to the side towards it. So I walked down this track, and about 20 meters down the track, there was a tarp over a tree, sort of strung up. And there were two beds in this little mustering camp. There's a mustering bush camp. The camp is abandoned in a state of disrepair.
but it's still a positive sign that they're headed in the right direction will looks around at the moldy mattresses warped magazine pages and other debris then he sees it right in the middle of the camp are two rust covered five gallon tins of flour his pulse quickens so i pried off the top of this tin and i looked at it and there was there was nothing but sort of mold and nothing you know nothing you could possibly eat but i opened up the second one
And lo and behold, here was pure white flour. It's like finding buried treasure. Will stuffs his bag full of as much flour as he can carry and rushes back to Jeff, whooping for joy. Minutes later, they've got a fire going. Mixing the flour with the small amount of water left in their canteen, they make bread. It's the best meal they've ever eaten. And so all of a sudden we had this flour.
And so I built a fire and we cooked up damper, this Australian sort of camp bread, and we ate the damper. And I was just elated. I remember thinking, you know, I'm going to survive. The two men chow down on as much as their shrunken stomachs can handle before getting back to their feet. A glimmer of hope has been restored. And to think, if Will hadn't collapsed the night before...
they would have walked right past the camp. For the rest of the day, they continue along the track. They pass dilapidated farm buildings and tumble-down fences, signs they're nearing civilization. But they're still desperately tired and struggling with the heat, and it's affecting their critical faculties.
I remember we had sort of hear the sound of a helicopter or the sound of an engine and you'd sort of hear it and then it would disappear on the wind. And you know, your mind was for playing tricks on you. You weren't sure what you were hearing and you'd listen so hopefully for the sound and it would just fade away in the wind. As a warm breeze passes over their cracked skin, the sound of an engine once again drifts through the air. Only this time it grows louder.
Will shields his eyes and scans the horizon. In the distance, he sees a column of dust rising from the track. He rubs his eyes just to be sure. And it kept getting louder and louder and louder. And sure enough, it was actually someone in the Jeep. And so Jeff and I stopped, and the Jeep pulled up. I remember we stood by the side of the track there, just sort of like two kids about to meet the real Santa Claus.
The Jeep pulls over. The driver is an Aboriginal Australian called Peter Lacey, riding with his dog, Bluey. He studies the two men with amazement. He said, you know, we weren't expecting tourists for months. Where did you guys come from? Will inquires politely about Mount Elizabeth Station. The baffled driver points down the track and says it's another 20 kilometers. They thank him and start walking again. The driver watches them stagger off.
before spinning the Jeep around. And so he pulled up alongside us, he said, "Well, I'm the owner of the station, I'm heading in this direction myself, I'd be happy to take you there." So I just remember getting in that front seat of that Jeep and for the first time in two months, we were driving in a car and we were covering ground at about maybe 15 or 20 kilometers an hour and it was just magical.
On the afternoon of May the 1st, 1989, after more than eight weeks in the wilderness, Will and Jeff arrive at Mount Elizabeth Cattle Station. Over the past 60 days, Will has lost a third of his body weight. One of the ranchers takes a long look at him, skin clinging to his skeletal frame, and gives him a sympathetic smile.
And so when I walked up, I remember he said, "You need some meat, mate. Your ribs are sticking out." And I was like, "Yeah, yeah, I need some meat, man. I've been pretty hungry." And so Peter sold us things like canned peaches and corn flakes and Weet-Bix and all these wonderful things that we'd been craving so much.
He threw these slabs of meat on the counter and said, you know, these have these too. And so we ate the steaks and pretty much all that food that we bought in one night. Will and Jeff can't help themselves. They feast until they're sick. Then they eat some more. In the end, it turns out the unpredictable weather of cyclone season had indeed prevented the Kimberley Explorer from reaching them at the lagoon. It so nearly spelled their end.
It's not until next morning, when Will makes a phone call back to America, that it all hits home.
I'd been very much thinking about, you know, you might die here. You really could die. And I do remember thinking, too, that my biggest concern or my biggest sorrow was that I wasn't going to see my parents and my brothers and my family and also my girlfriend. Improbably, there was a telephone booth. And, you know, I went in and put in a few coins and was able to call my parents and tell them I'd made it out.
Will returns home to the States. He attends Harvard, gets married, has a family. He and Jeff stay in touch, and in later years, Will even makes it back down under. Jeff and I are still friends. He's here in the States. I saw him about a year ago. We're still very good friends. He and I are the only ones who share that experience, and so it's something we can talk about.
I've been back to Australia a number of times. I love Australia. I've actually been back to Mount Elizabeth Station and I was lucky enough to even take a helicopter ride to the King Cascade. Looking back, what he takes from the adventure more than anything is a profound appreciation of the everyday pleasures of life. Every day, I would just spring up and just be overjoyed that I was still alive. It was such an incredible feeling.
In modern society, most people don't have the experience of starvation. And, you know, we definitely did. Since then, literally, I have enjoyed every hot shower and every cold drink and every meal. The whole experience profoundly changed my life. And, you know, you better make the most of every day, basically. Next time on Real Survival Stories, we meet Joe Lentini.
At 29 years old, he's part of an elite group of professional climbers responsible for search and rescue operations in the mountains of New Hampshire. As a senior team member, most days of the week, Joe faces high-stakes decisions and dilemmas. During one treacherous mission to find two missing teenagers, danger suddenly befalls one of the team, and Joe is left facing tragedy. That's next time on Real Survival Stories. Listen today without waiting a week by subscribing to Noiser Plus.
