Three Hundred Yards Right of the Pier, No Sign of You

Graduation trip to the island. My childhood friend, Brody, and my girlfriend, Gwen, took the speedboat first, leaving me behind.

They left a post-it note stuck to the cabin door:

"Go three hundred yards right of the pier, catch the 2:00 PM ferry. You got this!"

But three hundred yards to the right of the pier was nothing but jagged, wave-beaten cliffs. Not a single boat in sight.

I called them. Brody was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

"Left! Go left! It was just a little test, man. You seriously can't navigate to save your life."