You are kidnapped and dumped on a deserted island in the Pacific. This island basically is 10 miles long and about a hundred yards wide, and it's completely covered with prairie grass and some pine trees. Your captors have been nice enough to give you a few things to assist you in surviving: a couple (2) gallons of water, a flashlight, a box of matches and a blanket.
On the first day, you walk around the island and you notice that you've got no chance of escape from the island. The island has sheer drop-off all around, 500 feet onto sharp rocks with shark-infested waters. You go to sleep that first night under your blanket. You are awakened the next morning by the sound of thunder and the bright flash of lightning.
You realize that lightning has struck the far end of the island. You're approximately in the middle of the island and about five miles away from you, the lightning has turned the dried grass and scattered pine trees into a raging wildfire. As luck would have it, there's a breeze blowing directly from the fire toward you and it is pushing the flame in your direction. It is painfully obvious that within a few hours, the fire will reach you. You estimate that soon everything on the island is going to be toasted and reduced to ash—including you, unless you can think quickly.