That happened in my fourth year on the island.
In my sixth year i did make myself a smaller canoe, but I did not try to escape in it.
The boat was too small for a long journey, and I did not want to die at sea.
The island was my home now, not my prison, and I was just happy to be alive.
A year or two later, I made myself a second canoe on the other side of the island.
I also built myself a second house there, and so I had two homes.