Cohen weighs Sekou, who started the game at 253 pounds; he comes out roughly 60 hours later at 246. After rinsing off in a cold shower, he sits down for a meal, saying a prayer of thanks and filling his plate with chicken, mashed potatoes, carrots, and salad. As with any good game show, the ousted player is given parting gifts: a goody bag including a beach towel, flip-flops, three disposable cameras, a pedicure kit (???), body wash, a journal, and a DVD of his favorite movie, The Godfather. Sekou is thankful, but he has one last question: ''A lot of people voted off first, do they bring them back to participate?'' Brock looks at him sadly and answers, ''No.''

JUNE 29
The day after

It's 7:30 a.m., and Sekou is enjoying a breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. While he doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the race angle (''The only color that mattered to me was the color of the flag''), he's clearly still processing everything that has happened, so he sits down with Dr. Lippert for a one-hour chat. (This is standard procedure for all contestants after they are kicked off. Says Dr. Lippert, ''We want to minimize any kind of adverse effects they might have from participating.'') The former Manihiki member fills the day by straightening up his room and getting his laundry ready for cleaning at base camp before finally attending to his first love. He places a chair next to the lagoon, takes out his black Carlo Robelli bass guitar, and slaps away on it. He looks more comfortable than he has in 10 long days, and why shouldn't he? Sekou may have been voted out first, but he will receive $2,500 (all players who are booted are given a parting cash prize, which increases incrementally based on the length of their stay) and will soon be sent — along with other non-jury members — to an undisclosed location for an all-expenses-paid trip that will last until filming's done. Life could be much worse.

The concert ends. Sekou grabs some snorkel gear and heads toward the water by himself. He could use some company and can't wait to see who is voted out next. ''Whoever gets off that boat, I'm just gonna hug them,'' he says. ''I'm glad I have the privilege of being the first one voted off to welcome them because I just want to make sure that they're okay. I wonder who it will be!'' He seems genuinely excited. It's doubtful that whoever it is will be as happy to see him.

Fall From Race
After all the hype, ratings dip for Survivor

Who said controversy sells? The uproar over the division of competitors along racial lines in the latest edition of Survivor did nothing to boost ratings. With 18 million viewers, Survivor: Cook Islands was down 2 percent from the September 2005 debut of Survivor: Guatemala. Given that its competition was mostly reruns and CBS had hyped the twist for weeks, the result wasn't exactly encouraging. Still, media buyer Bill Carroll says it's too early for snap judgments: ''Survivor is usually a slow build.... Going forward, what ultimately determines success is the storytelling.''

But plenty of folks felt Survivor didn't have a tale worth listening to in the first place. Last month, three New York City Council members and prominent clergymen — along with advocacy groups like Hispanics Across America — called for CBS to shelve the season. Then came word that several advertisers — including General Motors (longtime sponsor of the show's car giveaway), Home Depot, and Campbell's Soup — had pulled their spots. Brand consultant Allen Adamson of Landor Associates understands why some companies would avoid Cook Islands: ''It's potentially risky, without a lot of benefit.'' CBS insists the ads were pulled last May, long before the twist was announced. As for GM? Says spokeswoman Ryndee Carney: ''We made the decision after 12 seasons of advertising that it didn't really fit with our strategy.''

Even if an advertiser did walk away because of content concerns, the move may have been pointless. The relatively tame premiere featured just one player (Asian team member Cao Boi) lobbing a racial epithet — directed at his own culture. Otherwise, players seem eager to shed positive light on their ethnic groups. Not that New York City Council member John C. Liu — a protest participant who's never seen an episode — is sold, especially after hearing constituents' early reviews. ''The feedback was that it was really lame,'' he says. ''They weren't disgusted as much as they were bored to tears.'' And that may just be the biggest offense of all. — Lynette Rice