Over the three expeditions that I've participated in - 2001, 2007, 2010 - I've stayed ashore twice, and others stayed ashore in previous expeditions. In 1997, several folks including Tom King and John Clauss were temporarily marooned ashore for several days when the surf got too dangerous to use the landing channel due to the typhoons that were brewing in the Pacific.
I stayed ashore - or became one of the "sand people" as we say, once in 2001, and once in 2010. Both times were memorable experiences in multiple ways from the pure beauty of being ashore in such a remote spot on the beach at sunset and sunrise, to the sentimental imagined experience of AE and FN doing the same, to the practical side of simply getting some sleep in a place where doing so isn't easy. Yes, the crabs are interested and they seem to be able to smell you from some distance and come in from all sides to investigate, but in the end, it really isn't much different than any other camping trip with challenges from predators, be they mosquitos, bears, or crabs - you deal with them.
In 2001, I "slept" in a makeshift hammock basically in the bush of the 7 site thankfully created by Jim Morrissey out of commercial fishing net that had washed up on the beach. The crabs tried their best to come at me directly, and I could can hear them clicking and scuttling about most of the night. Crabs, not being bestowed with the largest of brains, couldn't figure out how to get to me by going up that tree, over that branch, follow that rope, and back down the netting.... I smugly watched them from my perch as some 100 or so crabs clinging to scaevola sumps patiently waited for me to become more accessible. The folks who slept on the beach fared worse in terms of close encounters, but I don't think either got more sleep.
During this last trip, Mark Smith and I slept- er - stayed at the 7 site for a night. Mark wanted to capture the sunset and sunrise on film, and it wasn't smart for him to be there alone, so I happily volunteered and went with him. We built a nice bonfire on the beach - gleefully burning a large pile of dried scaevola that the crew had dragged 100 yards out there as part of the clearing the 7 site - had a nice dinner complete with chicken with rice, a few cookies, and a few Fiji Bitters to wash it all down. Mark built a smaller campfire to capture the AE/FN moment at sunset, and in an instant, as sunset at the equator doesn't last long, it was basically very dark. On came the head lamps. We each pitched a hammock right at the 7 site on top of the dig as that was quite open except for the trees, and had a nice breeze. The crabs were there, but not as plentiful as being in the bush, or at the beach as in 2001, and I think this was primarily a factor of the 7 site being a much larger open area than in the past. This time, we got some sleep, such as sleep can be for someone not used to a hammock, until 4:30 am when a tropical downpour arrived and completely soaked us. I snoozed for a while after that lying on the ground wrapped in my poncho on top of some of the soft pads we brought for kneeling while digging. Only a few crabs came to visit, but I heard them coming and was able to intercept and relocate them with the 'ol crab fastball. Was up bright and early to see the sunrise feeling as fresh as a poached fish..... Another day at the 7 site. I was happy to get back to the Naia for a shower and cold libation at the end of the day.
So, as you can see, staying ashore is not a death sentence if you approach it with a good attitude, a superior brain, and some technology. Being there when one is weak, injured, and without much technology would not be particularly fun. For that scenario, read the first few pages of Tom King's book "Thirteen Bones".
Andrew McKenna