Ben Mackay, 45, from Moranbah Qld, shares his true life story:
Laying stretched out on the sand beneath the setting sun, I looked out to the glistening ocean and smiled.
Bliss.
I’d spent the past two days on my own, camping and fishing at Aquila Island, a tiny rocky outcrop about six kilometres off the Queensland coast, south of Mackay.
While I missed my wife, Larnie, and our four kids, I loved unwinding amongst nature.
There was no-one for hundreds of kilometres so I was wearing nothing but my undies.
Getting ready to call it a night, I sent a text to Larnie.
Going to bed now, love yas all.
Her response came almost immediately.
See you tomorrow. Girls miss you heaps.
It was my eldest daughter Monika’s 20th birthday the next day.
She’d been living down in Brisbane and I missed seeing her every day.
But as I stood up to head for my tent, I noticed there was no sign of my 4.2-metre tinnie anywhere.
By now it was 7pm and there was only moonlight.
I made my way to where I’d moored it hours earlier and saw that it was bobbing around in the water metres away.
The tide must have dragged it out.
My tinnie was dragged out to sea.
Bloody hell.
Without a boat, I’d be stuffed and would need to call someone to collect me.
I swam out in the choppy sea and hauled myself on-board.
I was just starting the motor when a large wave crashed into the side.
I was tossed into the air and smashed my head on the side of the boat before disappearing under the water.
As I came to, coughing up seawater, I realised the tinnie had rolled upside down.
It was pretty dark by this point so I had no idea where the beach was.
The wind was howling and huge rolling waves were throwing me about.
I’d seen plenty of big sharks in the last two days so I scrambled up onto the upturned hull and tried to hold on.
But the waves were so big I kept getting thrown off and having to climb back on.
Hours passed.
I was cold and exhausted.
And I knew the current would be carrying me further out to sea.
There was no way anyone would find such a tiny boat out where I was.
As I looked up at the stars, I pictured Larnie being visited by police officers to tell her that I was lost.
I felt overwhelming despair when I thought about never getting to see my precious children again.
As I clung onto the boat, I suddenly recognised the Southern Cross.
If I know which way is south, I can at least try to move in the direction of the shore.
I loved relaxing in nature.
I tried yanking the boat round to face west and then reached down to paddle with my arms.
I shivered as the wind howled and buffeted against my wet skin.
My eyes stung from the salt and my mouth was sore with dryness.
Hours passed and my whole body ached.
As the first dull glow of morning broke the blackness, I squinted to see land, but there was nothing but water.
I was so tired I could barely paddle.
Then as the sun peeked over the horizon, I saw it.
Land.
It was a good two or three kilometres away.
Did I really have the strength?
All I had on was undies.
I’d either roast to death or pass out from dehydration long before I reached the mainland.
I dived back under the boat, and tried time and time again to turn it over, but the weight was too much.
Thinking of my family got me through.
Then I noticed the fuel tank underwater, inside the tinnie.
Yanking it out, I poured all the fuel away so I could use the empty tank as a float.
I tied one end of a piece of rope to my ankle and the other to the tank before pushing away from the boat and swimming as best I could.
The pain was immense. Every movement hurt and I was sure the current was still washing me in the wrong direction.
Think of Larnie… think of the kids… Monika’s birthday…
Another hour or two passed and I could see I was getting nearer.
I made out a tree and… was that a person?
“Hey!” I croaked, my mouth dry.
No response.
Wiping my eyes, I realised I’d imagined it.
There was no-one there.
I harnessed all the energy I had left and finally felt sand beneath my feet.
I staggered onto the beach and collapsed.
I spotted a fishing hut and desperately searched for a tap, but it was broken.
I also found a pair of yellow women’s thongs.
They were three sizes too small, but I squeezed my feet into them and limped inland.
I trudged about 10km through dense bush land, the sun baking my skin.
I knew I couldn’t rest as the area was infested with crocodiles.
I had to get home to be with my family.
At last I saw a house. I knocked on the front door.
“What do you want?” an elderly man barked gruffly.
I must have looked a real sight dressed only in my undies and women’s thongs.
“Mate, I need help,” I choked, trying to explain my ordeal.
Thankfully, he invited me straight in.
I gulped down the glass of water he gave me in seconds before calling Larnie.
“You’re late,” she said, crossly.
It was Sunday afternoon.
I should have been back home hours ago.
As I explained how close I’d come to dying, she burst into tears.
I’d ended up in Flaggy Rock, just a 10-minute drive from home, yet I felt I’d travelled to the end of the world!
I now get a life time supply of Tradie Workwear undies!
I was taken to hospital by ambulance and put on a drip.
Larnie and the kids came in to visit.
“Happy birthday!” I said to Monika over the phone.
“How dare you nearly die on my birthday, Dad!” she joked.
The story of me floating around in my undies has become the stuff of local legend.
The company that makes the undies has given me a lifetime supply and featured me on a billboard!
I’m not sure if I’ll get back on the water anytime soon.
For now, I feel like the luckiest man alive just to have my family.
They’re worth more than any boat trip.
