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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. It's Tuesday, January the 8th, 2008, high up in the Canadian Rockies. 56-year-old Ken Hildebrand is on his way home.
riding his quad bike along a remote mountain pass. He's just above the treeline. The freezing wind whips his face as he glances down into the valley below. Icy rivers snake across the sweeping, pine-covered slopes. It's spectacular, but Ken is focused on the steep, rocky terrain ahead of him. It will be dark before long, and the temperature is already dropping.
Ken is keen to get home, but he knows better than to rush. Accidents can happen at any time, and often at the most unexpected moments. It was difficult going there because in certain places, especially in the mountain pass, there's no trees.
And so the wind is blowing high. The wind was probably blowing between 100 and 115 kilometers an hour. And every once in a while, grass would blow in my face or small rocks would hit me in the face. And so I couldn't travel very fast with my quad. Winding his way down the mountainside, Ken makes a gentle turn. It's a subtle movement, nothing sudden or dramatic, but sometimes a small thing, as small as a blade of grass.
can have devastating consequences. As I was going around this corner, a piece of grass blew between my glasses and it hit me in the left eye. So I took my left hand off of the handlebars while I was taking this piece of grass out of my eye. As Kern lifts his left hand, the quad bike skids and then flips over.
Before he knows what's happening, he's hurled sideways, thrown out of his seat and sent tumbling down the slope. He bounces and rolls, gaining speed. He covers his head with his hands, narrowly missing a boulder. The quad is following right behind. It's a big, bulky machine and it too is gathering pace. Ken sees it lifting up and flipping in the air. As fast as he falls, the quad falls faster. And Ken is directly in its path.
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 Ken Hildebrand, a 56-year-old beaver trapper from Alberta, Canada.
As a seasoned survivalist, he feels prepared for any eventuality as he heads out to work in the Rockies. But when he upends his quad bike, Ken's outdoor skills and training will be strained to the limit. Trapped in the wilderness with the wind whipping and predators circling, how long can he hold out? I thought, well, you know, perhaps I'm not going to make it through. That was my worst fear through the whole thing when I felt that perhaps I wasn't going to be found and rescued.
An accident like this would be fatal for most people. But then again, Ken isn't like most people. He'll need every ounce of his courage, grit and ingenuity if he's going to get out of this alive. I'm John Hopkins. From Noisa, this is Real Survival Stories. It's the morning of January 8th, 2008 in Colman, Alberta. About eight hours before the accident, Ken is up at the crack of dawn.
As he drinks his steaming coffee, he watches the sun rise over the snow-packed peaks that tower above the nearby valley. It's a crisp and cloudless morning, and it's cold, minus 20 degrees Celsius. Ken has a long day ahead, and he's keen to get going. He eats a good breakfast and goes outside to check his quad bike, loading it up with extra supplies. He checks the fuel and oil, then puts the quad on the back of his truck.
For 35 years, Ken has been a registered trapper, working with the Alberta Fish and Wildlife Authority. Ken loves this rugged, beautiful part of the world, and he believes in what he does, helping to keep the ecosystem in balance. Alberta has some of the strictest trapping regulations in the world, requiring that traps are checked every 48 hours and that animals die while they are unconscious.
That means time is of the essence for Ken on today's journey up into the remote backcountry. So I was capturing some beavers to help control the population on my trap line because they are very active and they breed quite a bit, they expand quite quickly and they can flood hundreds and even thousands of acres if they're not managed.
So there's a concern about disease, there's a concern about controlling the population for habitat. Venturing up into the mountains solo comes with risks, but Ken is always well prepared. He's well known in these parts for being self-sufficient and highly capable. Ken is also a trained paramedic.
I worked on an ambulance and rescue and I have been in hundreds of rescues. Actually, a lot of the people on the ambulance, they called me Mr. Gadget because I carried things that other people didn't carry. And so my first, even my first aid kit was larger than most people carry. Like my wilderness first aid kit was probably adequate for 15 people going into the wilderness and
and surviving for a couple of months. And Ken isn't just a survival expert, he's a born survivor. To get to this point in life, he's had to suffer. Though the only outward sign of this fact is his pronounced limp. When I was a child, I had polio and I was in an iron lung for 18 months. My left leg was four inches shorter than my right leg.
And so I had quite a limp. And of course, my spine was kind of twisted because of it. I was told when I was six years old that I would never walk or use my arms. I have never, ever felt sorry for myself because there are people out there that are in a lot worse shape than I was. And so that's one of the reasons why I became a paramedic, to give back. It's around 7 a.m. when Ken sets off.
He enjoys the scenery as he drives out in his truck, the grassy slopes at the foot of the valley, the clear sparkling rivers, the tall pine trees and the dramatic soaring mountains. After two hours or so, he parks up and switches to his quad for the rest of the journey. It's around 18 kilometers of difficult, treacherous terrain. On a day like today, when the wind is up and the cold bites hard, this section of the route is going to be extremely tough going.
So there's a lot of creeks and steep valleys that I have to cross. I actually went over a very steep and difficult mountain range from Black Mountain over through Breeding Valley and up over what is called the Whaleback and dropped out into Bob's Creek. As your journey's on, Ken keeps a keen eye out for wildlife.
Aside from trapping beavers, he's also been asked to check on the local population of wolves. There have been problems lately with them killing cattle. Wolves are just one of many predators native to the Rockies. But Ken isn't overly worried for his own safety. He knows the land and its inhabitants. There's a real misconception about wolves attacking and killing people. There are only probably several
recordings in Canada of somebody that was actually attacked by wolves. More people are attacked by bears or by even coyotes than by wolves. At around two in the afternoon, Ken finally arrives at his trap line in Bob's Creek and his patience is rewarded. So I traveled up this valley and I had checked some beaver traps where I had five beavers.
Ken quickly strings up the beavers, then attaches them to his quad. The temperature is still well below freezing, and he knows he can't afford to delay. It won't be long before the light starts to fade, and he needs to get back down the steep mountain pass. Ken sticks to a speed of 20 kilometers per hour. His quad bike is loaded with gear, the extra fuel and supplies, plus the weight of the five beavers. All told, it's close to a thousand pounds, around the weight of a small pickup truck.
I kind of relaxed a little bit because I had gone over the most treacherous part of my trapline and it was difficult going there because in certain places, especially in the mountain pass, when you get near the top of the pass, there's no trees. The wind was probably blowing between 100 and 115 kilometers an hour. Even at Ken's measured pace, the wind blasts him with small twigs and leaves.
He carefully snakes his way downhill. Before long, he is nearing the base of the mountain, where the ground is less treacherous. But it's here where disaster strikes. As I was going around this corner, a piece of grass blew between my glasses and it hit me in the left eye. So I took my left hand.
off of the handlebars and the bike just started to skid and the steering almost wrenched out of my hand. The quad flips over, throwing Ken onto the hard, rocky earth and sending him tumbling downhill. As he falls, the quad comes down right behind him. In a flash, it's above him. He tries to avoid it, to roll out of its path, but it's too late.
1,000 pounds of metal, rubber, fuel and gear comes to a sudden, juddering halt right on top of Ken, crushing his body, pinning him down. So when the bike landed on me, I was laying face down in the dirt. The tire slammed down and the rim broke my tibia and fibula, which are the lower main bones in my right leg.
And then the metal rack that was on the back of the quad holding a lot of my gear, it slammed into my lower back.
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Kern's face is pressed into the frozen ground as he lies there, trapped under the enormous weight of the quad. It takes a moment for the pain to reach him. So there I was pinned, face down. At first I wasn't in that much pain, like right at the initial contact.
when the rim dug into my leg and broke both of the bones. The calf muscle was actually torn and the rim was sticking into my calf muscle. I tried to hold the pain there for a while. I almost went unconscious. I had difficulty breathing. Fighting back the nausea, Ken takes a breath and tries to think clearly.
I had to calm myself down, breathe a little bit. I got to evaluate my situation. And so here I am, I'm laying on bare ground. The wind is blowing over 100 kilometers an hour right into my face, blowing dirt and stuff. I got to rest myself and gain my thoughts and figure out the best way to try to get out from underneath this thing.
In a cruel irony, all the survival gear that Ken carries on his vehicle is adding to the weight bearing down on his legs and lower back, and he can't reach any of it. Except, maybe, his axe. This metal rack is against my back and I can see that my axe is laying a little bit away from me. It's just out of reach, but Ken has already switched into problem-solving mode.
Around his neck he wears a string necklace. On it hangs a compass, a whistle and a firelighter. He whips it off and eyes up the axe handle. After a few attempts he manages to lasso it. So when I got my axe, I tried to stick it in the middle between the frame of the quad and the rack.
and try to push it up. So I figured if I could push it up, I could get it just enough that I could release some of the pressure and I could get out. I used so much adrenaline, the axe jammed in there. I tried to lift it up and I couldn't believe it. I actually broke the axe handle. The axe is the one piece of survival equipment that might have lifted the quad and released him. Now it's broken.
Ken focuses his mind again. Where he's crashed isn't too far from a hiking trail, and close to that there is a farmer's property. It's not impossible someone might hear his cries for help. It was 2:30 in the afternoon when my incident happened, and I was actually
only about 600 yards from a parking lot where people can go into Bob's Creek to do hikes on different hiking trails. I was actually only about 800 yards to a thousand yards away from what is called now the Bob's Creek Ranch. Ken starts yelling. Then he blows on his whistle. Three consecutive blasts to signal an emergency. There's no response.
No passing hikers, no nearby ranchers. He tries again and again, but it seems nobody can hear him. The chances of an immediate rescue are fading fast. But what about friends and family back home? Might they raise the alarm and send out a search party? Ken's wife and daughter are on a trip of their own. They're a full day's drive away, out of phone reception, looking after his elderly father in British Columbia.
My wife and my daughter had actually gone to my dad's place because he had gotten sick. And so my daughter and my wife had traveled to Abbotsford, B.C., which is a 10, 12-hour drive from my house, to see my dad and check out how he was doing. Some friends were expecting Ken for dinner. They know to be concerned if he's a no-show.
But Ken is the survival guy. Seems people just trust him to look after himself. I was actually invited to somebody's house for supper and I told them I might be an hour or so late. That might be quite normal. But if I didn't make it for the supper to check my house in the morning, but that didn't happen.
Because I taught wilderness first aid and survival and stuff, they didn't heed what I had told them where I was going and when I should be back. Then there's his boss, the guy who runs the ambulance service. He will know to raise the alarm, but he's not expecting Ken on shift for several days. I knew he would contact authorities if I didn't show up, but he wasn't inspecting me until the fourth day.
Even though Ken has done everything a survivalist should, telling people his whereabouts, heading out with ample outdoor gear, he has still ended up trapped and well and truly on his own. The wind is picking up, the light is fading, and Ken can't reach any of the food or drink strapped onto his vehicle. He knows from experience that his body will soon start shutting down as the cold and the shock take their toll. But he also knows that a positive mentality is essential to his chances of survival.
When you're in a situation like that, your mindset is very, very important. It's very, very easy to think about the situation you're in and think about the negative things and give up. And you can't give up.
So I tried and I calmed down a bit and I thought, well, okay, I'm in this predicament, but I need to prepare myself for the night. He's at altitude in an open clearing in midwinter. Temperatures can drop to minus 30 degrees, and that's before the added wind chill. Aside from exposure and the injuries he's sustained, there's another obvious threat, one he's only too well aware of.
So we have grizzly bears and mountain lions. Cougars are quite prevalent on my trap line, and they can get up to over 200 pounds. It was January. So the grizzly bears were hibernating, and the black bears as well. But when it warms up, and we had just had a warm spell, lots of times the grizzly bears will come out of the den,
and they'll wander around. When it warms up like that, bears are very fierce predators. Ken tries to stay focused. He remembers he has a spool of bright orange flagging tape in his pocket. He can use it to make an emergency marker. I tied a piece of orange ribbon flagging. I tied that to a rock and I threw...
a couple of strands of that to form an X. So I thought in the morning, if somebody came along or if they flew over top of me with a helicopter or an airplane, if they couldn't see the quad upside down, they should be able to see the X that I had made with the flagging tape. It tortures Ken, but he's only 800 yards from a rancher's property. You can even hear the rancher's dogs barking.
If he can hear them, surely they can hear his yelling and whistling. I tried blowing my whistle again. I tried dozens of times. Every time that I blew my whistle and the dog responded, I could actually hear a couple of times that the rancher hollered at his dogs to be quiet. But no matter how hard he tries, Ken can't raise the alarm. Soon enough, night falls.
Being pinned face down like that, not being able to move, my body had now gone into shock from the pain of my broken leg. And so I needed to stay calm and I needed to make it through the night. Naturally, Ken is dressed for the cold, but he's still losing warmth fast. I felt like I just needed to go to sleep and get some rest. But I also knew being trained in survival and everything,
that that's a sign of going into shock, deep shock. And so I knew I had to keep moving whatever I could move. As night drags on, Ken notices that he has stopped shivering. But this is not a good thing. It's the first sign of severe hypothermia. His body is conserving its energy to protect his vital organs.
Ken forces himself to keep moving. He mimics shivering, actively shaking his limbs while breathing warm air into his cupped hands. He just needs to make it to dawn. Day breaks on Wednesday, January the 9th. Ken looks up at the overcast sky and the dark mountain range to the west. 17 hours have passed since he was thrown from his quad. He can't see far from his position on the ground, and even the slightest movement causes searing pain.
So when I seen the helicopter, I thought it was
out looking for me. And then when it flew up to the Livingston Range towards the lookout tower, I thought, well, somebody's going up there and if they go up there and they look through the spotting scopes that they got up there, surely they'll be able to see my ribbon and they'll be able to see me laying there with my quad. The helicopter rises and pulls away, flying off into the distance. He waits to see if it will circle back.
But instead, it disappears. The sound of its blades lost to the wind. So close, yet so far. As afternoon on the second day drags on, Ken has to really fight to stay optimistic. Panic is threatening to get the better of him. Despite the pain, he needs to be proactive now. He needs to make another concerted effort to get himself out from under the quad. With typical pragmatism, he devises a plan that most would never even consider.
At this point in time, my leg was not in quite as much pain as it had when it broke. Because of my medical training and everything else, I figured that I was probably going to lose that leg. And so during the evening of the second day, I considered if I could get my knife underneath there, I would take and cut my leg off at the knee.
I knew I had the equipment and stuff. I could get out from underneath it without too much blood loss and I could stop the blood loss and then I would be able to prepare myself so that I could try to get out of there. It's a horrifying prospect, but the more he thinks it through, the more it seems his best chance of survival. Ken takes his Leatherman, the multi-tool device that he has within reach, and twists his body. He flicks out the four-inch knife and reaches back towards his right leg.
But I couldn't, I couldn't reach far enough down with my Leatherman. The quad was in the way, the frame of the quad was in the way and my leg was underneath it at such an angle that I couldn't get at it to cut it off. He's at a loss now. For the first time, despair creeps up on him. But just as he did when he was a child in the hospital, he draws on his faith to give him strength.
I was thinking about my kids and my grandkids and my wife, and I was hoping that my dad was doing quite well. It was a challenge to keep my spirits up, but my faith in God, what kept me going a lot, with faith and hope, we can do things that we never thought we are capable of. The human body and the human will and the human soul
if we can control our mind, can keep us and help us to get through a lot of difficulties. Ken is facing difficulties in abundance. It's 28 hours since he ate or drank anything. The wind is still fierce and freezing, and the ground beneath him is ice cold. He studies the crushed debris scattered around, scanning for anything at all that he might use to stay alive. At the corner of his vision, just within reach,
but two of the dead beavers. He thinks of the high-quality hats and boots that are made with beaver pelt. If he can skin them, he might be able to use their thick fur as insulation. It just might save his life when night falls. But then again, it could be a fatal mistake. Once he's butchered the animals, there will be blood and guts in abundance, which you're going to smell. And that smell will attract predators.
A bear could actually, if he was downwind from me, could probably actually smell that beaver for over five to eight kilometers away. Cougars, they hunt more so by eyesight and movement, but they have a lot better sense of smell than a lot of people think they do. So that was my biggest concern was cougars at that point in time. Ken makes a judgment call.
Despite the risk, it's his best hope of getting through a second night in the open. And so I skinned these beavers and it took me a while to try and get the fur side of the beaver against my body and the hide side of the beaver on the frozen ground. So that helped increase my temperature and slow the rate that my body lost its core temperature.
After three strenuous hours skinning two beavers with a multi-tool, Ken finally has a little more warmth against his body. He then makes another decision, one which will prove rather less successful.
So I tried to eat part of the beaver. And at first it tasted, you know, not great because it was raw. I couldn't cook it or warm it up in any way. I didn't care for the taste of the blood, but I knew that I needed to get that for energy.
And so I had eaten part of the legs, the rear legs, because it has the most muscle on it. And so about an hour after I ate, I ate parts of two of the three beavers that I could reach. I didn't feel so good. And then I threw up. The vomiting just weakens him further, costing him precious fluids.
He was already badly dehydrated, so it's even more important now that he takes on liquid somehow. Once again, he improvises a solution. My headlamp was still working a little bit, so I could see that there was frost on the ground, so these ribbons that I had threw out to...
help identify my situation and stuff. I pulled him in towards me. So I pulled him through the frost and I licked the ribbon. I got dirt in my mouth, but I did get some moisture. It was enough to kind of get a little bit of lubrication in my mouth, my lips and my
My mouth felt very dry. So I would do that several times during the night. I would throw these ribbons out, let the frost gather on it. And when I licked them, it seemed like a little bit more of the frost would stick to the ribbon. So that's how I got some moisture. Ken now has a water collection system of sorts. It's not much, but it might just keep him going. He pulls the beaver pelts closer to his body.
The winter winds don't let up and the temperature plummets back down to around minus 20. Ken is desperate to sleep and the insulation from the pelts is keeping him warm enough, but he forces himself to stay awake, to stay alert. He knows the skinning of the beavers will come at a cost and it's not long before he is proven right. As the next night is starting to come in that, I thought that I had heard some animals in a distance, but
Because of the way I was laying, I couldn't see very far. Whatever is out there is making very little noise, just the occasional snap of a twig. But Ken senses its presence edging closer in the darkness. I blew my whistle and what was left of my axe there, I kind of pounded that against one of the containers that I had on my quad to make some noise and to scare them off. Silence falls once more.
The hours pass, but then he hears it again. The soft pad of paws, snouts sniffing in the dirt, the occasional yelp. It's unlikely to be wolves, but it could be coyotes. I could hear them communicating with each other, just little growls and a few yips. So I figured, well, there was a beaver that had landed a fair piece away from me that I couldn't reach.
maybe 25 yards away or so. The coyotes came from behind me where I couldn't see and they tried to get at this beaver. He tries to stay calm. Coyotes rarely attack humans, but then again, at this point he must look like pretty easy prey to them.
I was trying to look to see what I could take and use to defend myself. So what I did was actually, I used a flagging tape and I tied my Leatherman to the end of the broken axe handle. So I figured, well, if they get close enough, I would be able to actually stab at them. Ken grips his makeshift spear tightly in one hand, his whistle in the other.
Each time he hears the animals closing in, he makes a load of noise. Again and again, this pattern repeats all through the night. Thursday, January the 10th. As the sky turns a pre-dawn pink, Ken can see the coyotes clearly now. He watches them make their way back into the woods. He is safe for the time being. But after the stress of the night, fatigue now really takes hold. Hour after hour, Ken reels in his ribbons and licks off the frost.
By the afternoon, he can feel himself slowly slipping away. His imagination takes over. He can hear vehicles pulling up, rescuers coming to his aid. But when he comes to, the only real sounds come from those distant dogs on the ranch. As evening on day three approaches, the coyotes return. This time there's more of them, at least four that Ken can see. But they're circling behind him and out of view. He listens to them tussling, fighting over a beaver carcass.
All he can do is grip his spear and pray they won't move on to him when they're done. Optimism is draining from him now. You know, I started thinking more about my family and I'm thinking, well, maybe, you know, maybe if I'm not found by the next day, I might, I might pass away. Through the night, Ken drifts in and out of consciousness, utterly exhausted after three days with no sleep.
By the time Friday's first light is creeping over the horizon, he's ready to say his goodbyes. When I got enough light that I could see, I wrote a note explaining that I was very, very sorry that I was going to put my family through the circumstances, telling them how much I loved them, and I was sorry that I was putting them through this if I passed away, and that...
Not for them to worry or be too sad because I had done things that a lot of normal people didn't do in life. And I prayed to the Lord that somebody was going to find me. But whoever would find me, I was hoping that it wouldn't be a family member that would find me. Friday does bring a merciful break in the weather. The winds are finally relenting.
It was the first time I'd seen the sun. The sun had shone for probably a couple of hours and it started to warm me up a little bit. It was probably around noon and I took my glasses off and I had laid them beside me and I kind of dozed on and off a little bit. So I was tired and I fell asleep.
For two hours, Ken rests. His reasons for staying alert, blissfully forgotten. But around 2:00 PM, he wakes with a start. There's something off to his left. Another animal approaching. I thought I heard something. And so I opened my eyes and my glasses were laying there. I was reaching for my glasses, but I could see a reflection that looked like a dog on my glasses.
Am I hallucinating? Is it a coyote or was it a wolf? With a surge of adrenaline, Ken snatches his glasses and grabs for his knife. With his glasses on, he sees something else. So the dog was coming towards me and he was at more of an angle where I could see. And the gentleman that was with the dog
He came into view and it startled me and it startled him as well. Like he was right close to the quad when he come into view and he thought I was dead. The passerby had spotted Ken from a distance and assumed he was beyond help. And Ken is semi-conscious, unsure if he can trust his own eyes. And I said to him, look, this is serious. I've been caught underneath this quad and I need help.
Despite his injuries, despite everything he's been through, Ken is still able to assist in his own rescue. He explains to the dog walker exactly what he needs to do. He must lift the quad away from Ken's lower body. I need him to help me lift the quad. So he couldn't quite lift the quad himself, but he could lift it enough to shift the weight
So I got one leg out. So now I could sit up. So now I could help him. So I helped him push the quad off of me. Finally, with one last heave, Ken can wriggle free. His blood is suddenly pumping again and his mind is clear. He tells his rescuer to run straight to the nearby ranch house and raise the alarm. All Ken can do now is wait for that help to arrive.
He reaches for the supplies on the back of his quad, which are now finally within reach. I got to my first aid kit. I splinted my leg. I got into my coffee in the thermos. It hadn't froze, but it was kind of like a slushy. And so I got some of that moisture and I ate a couple of energy bars. I kind of felt sick to my stomach, but they come up and they...
put me in the back of their truck, and they took me to the main road where Highway 22, and that's where the ambulance met me. The ordeal is over. In the hospital, the surgeons try to save what they can of Ken's right leg. As he puts it, his good leg, the one less impacted by polio. In an echo from his childhood, he is told that he won't walk again. But with the help of a prosthetic, he'll make an amazing recovery.
I ended up actually having my leg amputated three times because of the gangrene. The doctors kept telling me, well, I wouldn't walk. But I kept telling them, don't worry, you know, I'm going to make it through this and I'm going to walk again. And it was near the end of March where I had convinced them finally. And there was a couple of doctors that supported me.
And so it's quite a challenge for my polio, like to try to hold me up. So I have to use a stick, a walking stick. With incredible ingenuity, he survived and came home to his family, his wife, his children and grandchildren. And in the years since, he has had the opportunity to speak to young people about mountain safety. On this, he has a very visual message to convey.
I go into high schools and that because a lot of kids feel they're invincible. A lot of kids get on motorcycles or they jump in their car and they just you know take off and so I'll go and I'll talk, I'll introduce myself and I'll explain to them that I used to be a survival expert and everything else and I have a pair of pants that has zippers on the leg and so I'll unzip
Ken serves as a living reminder of how to make a fist of survival in the great outdoors.
As he tells the teenagers in the high schools, keeping your head, staying methodical in your thinking, and solving one problem at a time might just get you out alive. Hopefully, people hearing this podcast will realize that there's a situation that you can get into that you don't expect to get into, but you can survive. In the next episode, we meet Douglas Robertson.
In 1971, he is just a teenager as he and his family embark on an epic round-the-world sailing trip. But when disaster leaves them shipwrecked in the middle of the Pacific, the Robertsons' dream of circumnavigation turns into a nightmare of self-preservation. Cast adrift on the open ocean, they must stick together and battle adversity as a family. But will it be enough to overcome savage storms, debilitating thirst, and the looming threat of ocean predators? That's next time.
on real survival stories. Hear that story right now by subscribing to Noisa Plus. Just click the link in the description or head to noisa.com.
