In everyday life, to survive, we all have a need to satisfy basic priorities.
For all of us, the first priority is certainly air, followed by water and food, and only then rest. These are the priorities of modern man—one who spends most of his time in an urban environment and the safety of his home. This is a person who does not dread the dangers lurking in nature for a simple reason: he has distanced himself too much from it.
However, in a real survival situation, alongside the mentioned physiological needs, completely new priorities are imposed on us. These are priorities that must become a strict protocol of behavior for anyone facing a high-stress situation.
As an instructor at the ExtremeSurvive™ survival school, I have seen too many examples where people lose control. When a person is pushed to their own psychological limit and is not trained to adapt their behavior, they lose control over the unfolding situation. In a desperate bid to survive, paradoxically, they begin to apply completely wrong priorities.
There are records of real-life situations where people, after being lost in the wilderness for just one day, resorted to cannibalism. That is not hunger—that is panic. This speaks volumes about how truly distant modern man is from a rational assessment of his own priorities and psychological stability.
Just as our job, school, or family dictate their daily priorities, the wilderness dictates its own.
To make applying these priorities as easy as possible and to prevent panic, I created an easy-to-remember word, an acronym for survival priorities: S.T.O.P.
This technique is the foundation of our survival courses and the first step in mental preparation for venturing into the wild.
To better apply this already easy-to-digest survival acronym, let's imagine a situation where our main hero, Stipe, gets lost in the wilds of Gorski Kotar after setting out to hunt for mushrooms.
That day, instead of watching where he was going and creating a mental map of the terrain, Stipe only saw mushrooms—"there’s never been this many!" Only as night began to fall did our Stipe realize he had no clue where he was. He started running in panic, tripped, and sprained his ankle.
Night is knocking at the door, imaginary "vampires" are peeking from the dark, and our Stipe, scared and in pain, doesn't know what to do. Suddenly, it hits him that his son once read something about a magic survival word: S.T.O.P.
I know it’s not easy to just stop when you are lost, in pain, and terrified, Stipe, but Stipe—this is the only way to avoid surrendering to panic and messing up your priorities.
Sanitize and stabilize that leg, Stipe; tighten a bandage around it. Sit down. Eat something sweet—maybe that Bronhicandy you always have in your pocket—or take a sip of that brandy (rakija) you hide from your wife. Scout your surroundings. Look from that clearing where you are—is there a path? Calm down. Try to remember which way you came from and how much time you spent getting to where you are now.
If you think you are truly lost, stop thinking about the return trip and worry about your crew laughing at you at the pub. Instead: Seek Shelter. A cold night is coming—one that, at this time of year and in this region, could easily become your last.
Stipe, what are you doing?! Don't just bury yourself in a pile of leaves pretending to make a shelter! First, get away from the wind and cold. That high rock face is an ideal windbreak, and a fire lit in front of it to reflect heat is a true blessing. Light a fire, because fire serves exactly that purpose: to shelter you in this misfortune from your worst enemy—not a bear, but hypothermia (body cooling).
Remember: Hypothermia is the number one killer in real survival situations in nature, and it spares no one—not even you with your flask of brandy.
After you've warmed up and have a fire, start building your shelter. That fire by the rock in the windbreak is a good choice, but it loses heat on the other side. No problem if you build a shelter there; in your case, build a lean-to roofresting against the rock, with an opening for smoke to escape. The night will be long; make yourself a warm bed of pine boughs to insulate yourself from the freezing ground.
Instructor's Note: The record difference between outside and inside temperature that I have personally experienced in a shelter without a fire in the snow is 25 degrees. Inside the shelter in the Alps, it was 5°C, while outside it was -20°C. This data speaks for itself regarding the importance of shelter in winter conditions.
"Stipe, are you out of your mind? You’re sweating, and you have nothing to drink except a flask of honey brandy and half a liter of water.
Take off that heavy jacket while you're building the shelter so you don't lose fluid through sweat; plus, you'll stay dry for when you go to sleep.
And don't eat those mushrooms or those sausages if you don't have enough water, because digestion will drain all the fluid from your body to process them. Ration that bottle of water you have and don't gulp it all down at once.
Early at dawn, check if there is dew on the grass since it was a warm day; look to see if there is any water trapped between the rocks from recent rains."
"See, look at that—you didn't freeze to death last night thanks to your shelter. However, now that it’s cooled down, that leg of yours looks nasty. It’s obvious the ligament is gone. It’s starting to snow—the first snow of the year, lightly covering your shelter at the edge of the forest.
It’s a good thing you told your wife where you were going. That way, as soon as she sees you didn't return on time, she'll immediately mobilize the Mountain Rescue Service, the police, the firefighters, the Ministry of Defense, and who knows who else.
How to mark your shelter? On the snow-covered clearing in front of the woods where your shelter is, place something unnatural and visually striking. Write SOS with green pine branches that will be visible from the air.
Prepare a signal fire so it’s ready to light the moment you spot or hear rescuers. Hang something bright-colored on a branch above your shelter so they know exactly where you are, even if you fall asleep or are unable to respond.
Conserve energy, because in this state, you can't really go anywhere—and don't cry. Accept the new situation.
Eh, Stipe... if you could walk, you wouldn't even need this priority or the next one. With a clear head, you would have tried to go back the way you came this morning or find a living soul in the area."
Two nights have already passed in the wild. You have a spring, so water isn't a problem. Now, look to see if there is anything edible nearby. Prioritize food of animal origin; a handful of worms has more protein than all those mushrooms of yours.
Imagine that, Stipe—six earthworms contain nearly 40 grams of protein!
Just as our Stipe, thoroughly disgusted, began to slide that meaty worm into his mouth, he heard a beautiful female voice—the voice of a Mountain Rescue Service member!?
No. Stipe had fallen asleep on the couch again while watching Survivor, and he was shoving the remote control into his mouth again!
It was, unfortunately, the voice of Kata, his screeching wife. Although it was just a dream, he dreamt it according to survival priorities, but now a real nightmare follows because, in his sleep, he called out another woman's name—that of the rescue lady!
If, after getting lost, you are unsure of the direction you came from, do not even attempt to return. Darkness will fall, and walking across the terrain will result in walking in one giant circle. Once you are exhausted, hypothermia will come for a visit.
My advice: If you suspect there is a settlement nearby, start building a shelter on one of the nearby peaks (preferably on the leeward side/sheltered from the wind). This way, when darkness falls, you will be able to spot the lights of a house or a road.
And naturally, any small trail, just like a stream, flows into a wider path, and a wider forest road always connects to a main road.
Acting according to priorities is crucial in stressful situations because it is easy to forget things that would otherwise be instinctive.
Test piloting new aircraft is an excellent example where priority protocols are of vital importance. When participating in such tests, you must thoroughly know the protocols and act on them without thinking, as this can be the deciding factor for survival in the event of an accident. You've surely tested at least one, haven't you?
Acting according to priorities allows you to focus on what matters most, thereby increasing the chance of success and reducing the risk of injury. This is a key aspect of safety protocols in all critical situations, including aircraft testing and, of course, survival.