That happened in my fourth year on the island. In my sixth year I did make myself a smaller canoe, but I didn't 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, 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.