True story: my great-great-great-great-great-grandpappy fucked Amelia Earhart!
Don’t believe me? Read the National Geographic: nationalgeographic.com
What your geography magazine doesn’t tell you is that she landed on the island of the rick-crabs. My great-great-great-great-great-great-grandpappy did was tell her he’d help her if she let him do unspeakably crabby things to her. After a few weeks of scuttling over her private places, pausing only to feed her coconuts and the occasional bird carcass he finally said “hey bitch, i can’t help you cause i’m a damn crab!”
True story! I like to think I have a few Earhart genes in my background.
Scuttle! Scuttle! Scuttle!


Could be!
You crabs really clean up.
Still don't know what happened to her co-pilot, or her aluminum Lockheed Electra. Crabs would not have eaten that.
youtube.com
There has always been some accounts of a radio communication from them having been received. With that plane, you could not use the radio unless you could get one engine running. So that pretty much means on land, and with either the propeller off, or with the engine being held up with enough ground clearance to turn.
Back then I think aircraft still used HF bands, like 20 meters. So there would have been a 1/2 or 1/4 wave length antenna. Could have been strung up in trees if plane was wrecked.
SJG