The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe

By Daniel Defoe

Chapter I — Start in Life

I was born in 1632, in a city called York, in England. My family was good, but we were not from England first. My father came from another country called Bremen. He first lived in a town called Hull. He earned money by buying and selling things. Then he stopped working and moved to York. There, he married my mother. Her family name was Robinson. That is why I was first called Robinson Kreutznaer. But people in England said the name a different way. Now everyone calls me Robinson Crusoe. My friends always called me that too.

I had two older brothers. One was a soldier. He was killed in a big battle in a place called Dunkirk, fighting against Spain. I never found out what happened to my other brother — just like my mother and father never found out what happened to me.

I was the youngest son. I did not learn a trade, like being a builder or a shopkeeper. Instead, I always dreamed of adventure. My father taught me many things at home and sent me to a small school. He wanted me to become a lawyer. But I only wanted one thing — to go to sea and sail on ships! I wanted this so badly that I ignored my father's wishes and my mother's worries. It was like something inside me was pulling me toward a hard and difficult life.

My father was a wise old man. He tried to talk me out of going to sea. One day, he called me into his room. He could not walk well because his foot hurt (this sickness was called gout). He asked me why I wanted to leave home so badly. He said only very poor people, or very rich and important people, went on big adventures. He said our family was neither too poor nor too rich — we were right in the middle. He said this middle way of living was actually the best and happiest way to live. People who are too poor suffer from hard work and not having enough. People who are too rich suffer from pride and always wanting more. But people in the middle have peace, enough food, good health, and calm, happy lives.

My father begged me not to be foolish. He said I did not need to go looking for food or money — he would help me have a good life at home. He said if I chose to leave anyway, and things went badly for me, it would not be his fault, because he had warned me. He reminded me that my brother had also ignored his warnings, gone off to war, and been killed. He said if I left now, he did not think God would bless me, and someday I would wish I had listened — but by then, no one might be there to help me.

While he spoke, I saw tears fall down his face, especially when he talked about my brother. When he spoke about me maybe needing help one day with no one around, he became so sad he could not speak anymore.

His words truly touched me. I decided not to go to sea after all, and to stay home like my father wanted. But sadly, after just a few days, I forgot my promise. In a few weeks, I decided to run away instead. But first, I talked to my mother when she seemed to be in a good mood. I told her I could never be happy unless I saw the world. I said I was eighteen years old — too old to start learning a new trade now. I told her if my father made me stay, I would just run away later anyway. I asked her to convince my father to let me take just one trip to sea. If I didn't like it, I promised I would never ask again, and would work extra hard to make up for lost time.

This made my mother upset. She said it would do no good to ask my father, because he already knew what was best for me. She said she was surprised I would even ask this after everything my father had said to me. She told me if I ruined my own life, there was nothing anyone could do to stop me — but she would not help me do it. She said I would never be able to say that she agreed when my father did not.

Even though she said no, I later learned she told my father everything anyway. My father sighed and said, "That boy could be happy if he stayed home. But if he goes to sea, he will become the most unhappy person alive. I cannot agree to this."

Almost a year passed. During that time, I still would not listen to any advice about settling down. I often argued with my parents about why they would not let me do what I wanted so badly.

Then one day, I was in Hull — not planning to run away, just visiting. But while I was there, a friend of mine was about to sail to London on his father's ship. He invited me to come along, and said it would not cost me anything. This time, I did not ask my mother or father. I did not even send them a message. I just left, without asking for God's blessing or my father's blessing, without thinking about what might happen next.

On September 1st, 1651, in what turned out to be a very unlucky choice, I got on a ship heading to London. I don't think any young adventurer ever ran into trouble as quickly, or for as long, as I did.

The ship had barely left the river when the wind began to blow hard, and the sea grew wild and frightening. I had never been on the sea before, and I became terribly sick and scared. I began to think seriously about what I had done. I felt like I was being punished for disobeying my father and leaving my duty behind. All my parents' good advice, my father's tears, my mother's pleading — it all came rushing back into my mind. My conscience (the little voice inside that tells you right from wrong) had not yet grown hard and quiet like it did later. It scolded me for ignoring good advice and breaking my duty to God and my father.

The storm kept getting worse, and the waves grew very tall — though this storm was nothing compared to storms I would see later, even just a few days after this one. But it was more than enough to frighten me, since I was still a new sailor who knew nothing about the sea. I was sure that every wave would swallow the ship whole. Each time the ship dipped down low into the deep valleys between the waves, I thought we...