It reminded me of mejillones en salsa. Other writers saw different things and thus there are a variety of stories which you can read by following the link on Rochelle's blog.
Kyle spat seawater. “Where are we?”
“No idea, but GPS will find us – let’s enjoy our own desert island.”
They sunbathed and swam naked on their tiny atoll. They drank rainwater and ate shellfish, made love under the palm trees, but after four days and no sign of rescue the romance palled.
It took them a week to fell a tree, another week to make a raft and fill coconut shells with water.