The storm had blown over, but not before it had blown over his ship, along with all of his crew. The captain always went down with the ship, but by the time he woke up from a plank smacking him upside the head, he found himself drifting alone on a plank of wood in the middle of the ocean, no one else in sight. Too late to sacrifice himself to the sea gods now.
As he drifted, he knew shore was near. There were too many birds flying about for it not to be. He just had to hope the tides and currents pushed him towards shore. He couldn't see any sandy beaches, but without his looking glass, which had been washed away with his ship, he was practically blind. So he had no idea which way he should even paddle with his hands. Fate was his only hope.
And then it appeared. Land! If he could see it with his dismal eyesight, it had to be close. As he focused on the sandy, palm-tree lined beach, he felt an earthquake shake his tiny raft. No, that was ludicrous. He looked down and found a woodpecker feeding on his wooden leg. He brushed it off, but it was soon back. No! He loved this leg. His only hope was to reach shore and find a weapon to defend himself with.