Having finished the Royal Wedding special I’m now going back to Perilously Unable To Find Our Bearings.

So just to recap, Charlotte, Monsieur De Toulouse Admiral Inkpen, Lady Winifred and several other including a large group of unruly churls are still stuck on an Island. Their attempt to communicate with the outside world is thwarted when they find other shipwreck victims have tried and failed, unwilling to give in they try to send messages in bottles.

Here is a quick reminder!

We found upon our return that we could not bring ourselves to tell the rest of our companions of our predicament, for they were all so very happily engaged in sea bathing. Instead Monsieur De Toulouse and I agreed (at least, I believe we agreed, I have found my French to be greatly wanting and he does speak so very fast) that it would be best to secretly implement another form of communication so as not to induce hysteria and anarchy.
It was this notion that caused me to find myself beside three men so inebriated as to be rendered nonsensical. For it was the suggestion of the uninjured peasant that if we placed a message inside a bottle, cast it out to sea and waited for the tide to take it, it would in all certainty be found by and by. However the only bottles available to us were full of Rum, and we concluded that it would display a wasteful disdain to merely empty the bottles; thus we drank it. Incidentally Harriet, though my knowledge of intoxicating liquors is greatly inferior to yours, Rum is a rather pleasant beverage, if a little strong. The men succumbed to the drink’s influences far sooner than I and their state of inebriation left their letters entirely illegible. Therefore I placed a paper reading “To Whomever finds this bottle, we are perilously unable to find our bearings. Pray come to our aide!” in each of the six of twenty bottles save for one, which I trust will find its way to you.

Yours in a state of joyous intoxication,
Charlotte.

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