Like a little boat, searching to be able to rest sometimes in the protection of a harbour on a distant island, I would be refused this possibility, and I would have had to face the rain, the big waves, the ocean, when I would feel tired for all this, but at the end, I would arrive safe and sound on an other island little port, where I could stay, or at least come back when I would feel like coming back. Some places where people would even care for the little boat I would be and would even paint me with different colors, repairing my hull, and helping me to be in good shape again.
So I would think about those islands, using my little boat, taking the fruits inside, going fishing with it, and after sending it back to the sea, without really caring for it, as strange islands, mysterious islands, beautiful islands but not safe enough for me. Kind of cannibal islands. Too far away from the civilized world.