Mike didn't keep a day by day diary during the fourth programme – but he did reflect on the whole experience after the filming had finished.

Friday 1st October - End of the series

It was all over. Even in July, with the September filming trip still ahead of me, I didn't want to leave the island. This time it was much more final and I certainly did not want to go home. In a way I was glad that the filming hadn't gone on longer. Tempers were becoming short, and at times there was a bit of an atmosphere, just as in real life, and real life did not, and never has, held any attractions for me.

At first, our enthusiasm, and unfamiliarity meant that any bad feelings were well hidden, but once we were tired, and were not constrained by the politeness required when first encountering strangers, they rose to the surface. Some of the stronger characters were not as charitable as they should have been, I'm sure myself included at times, and some more gentle members of the team were not entirely happy. That said, I certainly wanted to stay, to do more projects, and avoid the bullshit that I would have to face up to at home, but just like many people's dreams of some distant utopia, it just didn't exist. I thought of the Oliver Reed film 'Castaway'. By the end of that they were pretty screwed up. The nauseating backpackers were pretty screwed up by the end of Alex Garland's book 'The Beach' as well, especially the one who had been bitten by a shark. And, of course, poor old Piggy was well and truly stuffed in "Lord of the Flies'.

Compared to them we did pretty well, especially as we had a number of very strong personalities in the team. Like everyone else, I felt ambivalent, not because half of me wanted to get back home to loved ones while half of me wanted to stay, but because all of me wanted to stay. However, I wasn't sure about carrying on down the path to a guaranteed full bore dispute between people I really liked. It was the right time for a wrap.

We packed, and I was ready to leave. After a long series of sincere good-byes to our Italian friends at the port we boarded the ferry to Livorno. Jonathan was subdued, and for once we didn't talk much. I think that he was thinking along the same lines as myself, but for different reasons. Always positive, he wanted to stay, whereas I didn't want to go home. For sure I wanted to stay for positive reasons, but my wishes were more motivated (if that is the word) by the forbidding prospect of returning to a boring job, in the wet and cold UK, together with all the rest of the rubbish that goes with it. Like my sister said, I could face racing motorbikes, adventuring in remote foreign countries, giving talks to hundreds of people, or fighting in a Tae Kwon Do competition, but the idea of putting the dustbins out, or doing the washing-up terrified me. I didn't want to rot in some suburban dungeon. Life's cruel.

After getting over my bout of self-indulgence (I'm particularly good at them). I got a beer, and Jonathan suggested that I moved seat to get out of the wind. We watched seagulls follow the ship, as David suggested a project, in which we would construct ladders or lifts to save the baby seagulls that tend to drown or starve in Capraia's steep walled water reservoirs. We reckoned a wind powered infra red sensing lift would be a good idea. As soon as the seagull stepped on the lift, it would be detected and lifted to safety.

After watching the sun set over Gorgona, a small island between Capraia and Livorno, we pulled slowly into the smelly old town to spend the night in the waterfront hotel. Whilst polluted, Livorno is pretty lively, and we went to a Pizza restaurant, rather than the hotel, for some food, passing a brothel (or something which looked very much like a brothel) on the way. It was a great evening. I was sat at one end of the table, with Derek, Drew, Paul and Anna. John was stranded with the serious crew at the other end, separated from us by Jonathan, Kate, Mike and Vanessa. We laughed all evening, sometimes just putting it on to make the others jealous, and watched as unfeasibly attractive and well dressed local girls walked past, not even noticing us.

At first I thought that I was on for a late night, but was tired, so went back to the hotel at about midnight. Some of the others moved on to a local bar, where they had a good last night together, but I would never have had enough energy.

Saturday 2nd October - Home again

I didn't want to be back, and perhaps it showed. I don't think anyone at home wanted me back either (ahhh) so now I am planning another couple of adventures, but before long I'm sure that I will return to Capraia. I find it impossible to comprehend that I may never see the place again. I suppose like most things though, there is no way to ever recapture the atmosphere of the island when we were all part of the 'Rough Science' team. It's just one of those brilliant memories. Memories of a project that I would have never dreamt of being involved with had a mate not sent me an e-mail earlier this year asking for volunteers for an island experiment - surreal.