Waking up in the Middle of the Ocean

I've often imagined waking up floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Nothing to see but ocean miles around. I don't know where I am, and if the fishies below me know, then they couldn't tell me. Days would go by. Months. I would suffer.

There would be no continuity from my past life. What happened to the bed I was sleeping on? What about my family and friends? The scary part is--there would be no one to answer my questions. How would I get food and water? How would I even live? I would hardly even know the answer to that question. I would be entirely disconnected from all sources of comfort. No one around me to comfort me or to keep me from going mad. No one would know where I've gone, or where even to come looking for me. No one but the unchanging pale blue sky, the one reminder that I am still on Earth. What would I do on the raft?

What would I do in such a situation? How would I sustain myself? I would be forced to live like a monk.

I certainly hope to have a notebook and pen. If I did, I might try writing. I could accept my fate and reflect on my life. Remember all my experiences in as much detail as possible. Try to dig deeper, and understand myself very fundamentally. I might try is exploring fundamental maths or physics. Geometry. Algebra. Calculus. Maxwell's laws of electromagnetism. All start from the very basics, requiring very little starting knowledge (especially math). I might try playing chess with myself, exploring different positions and improving.

But, being placed on such a raft would undoubtedly be a dreary experience. Unanswered questions. Unfinished plans. Unresolved arguments. Interrupted friendships and bonds. A complete displacement from one's former life.