Oh, I have one to add to the pile!
Be me in my early youth years. End up doing a research project at a prestigious (but fairly scrounged together) research lab for coastal and marine studies in the Caribbeans. Island so small it's barely inhabited, with around 500 human souls (a good portion being tourists).
Lab located in the mangroves ran on donations, fees paid by the interns, and the combined good will of Poseidon and the Saints Above. Most money goes in keeping the actual laboratory and gear in good condition. Interns and volunteers are cheaper to replace.
Food comes by boat/small plane every few weeks, so fresh food was scarce but they made sure we had plenty oranges and apples to last us between runs.
Group of 12 people altogether in the research station, with myself and other 8 international interns/researchers working on cool projects.
Spend nearly all days for 8-14h on small boats (the size of a Quintrex Tinnie) for a minimum of 4 months up to a year. People become feral mangrove creatures within a couple of weeks of routine.
Now, one of the interns, let's call him Willie, fully embraces the lifestyle. Him being from the U.S of A., therefore very enthusiastic and going for the 'bigger, better, larger' mantra of his people, decides to take the sea lifestyle up a notch and start talking and behaving as a salty sailor within a week. Him being from a landlocked state makes this ~A Performance~
By month 2, he had evolved into Cpt. Ahab (we were tracking sharks, among other projects, and often would shout "there she blows" when picking up frequencies from transmitting tags), inclusive of squinty left eye, walk, and radio calls approximating the 1800s talk.
At month 4, he had fully transformed into one of the extras from the Pirate of the Caribbeans Davy Jones crew from the movie, complete with consistent algae in his hair (not fully intentional, although he would wear some as a crown every other day), ratty clothes (mostly due to conditions and work), piraty talk and carrying a plastic flycatcher as a cutlass.
At month 5 he really outdoes himself by developing scurvy.
You see, we found out later that he didn't really like fruit and around month 3 Willie had started bartering his portions off, apparently on a daily basis, for other food (ham and cheese sandwiches). He was doing it on rotation with the rest of us so we wouldn't catch on and be 'overbearing parent-like'.
Imagine the surprise when we took him to the local small clinic to get checked since he was constantly fatigued, started having pains in his limbs and got to the point of bleeding gums, and the doctor cheerfully informed that he had scurvy. As well as a skin infection on his scalp due to the prolonged exposure to algae.
The doctor and nurses congratulated him for his historical and thematic accuracy, took photos (he was baffled but still did a mighty thumbs up with a literally bloody grin), gave him vitamin C, antibiotics and then a stern lecture on looking after one's health - tropical island edition.
Within 24h the whole island knew.
Every person on land he crossed paths with for the rest of his stay greeted him with a hearty "Arrrr!" followed by laughter.
Brownie points to him for taking it in stride like a champ and doubling down on his piraty behavior (minus us watching him like a hawk to ensure he ate all his darn fruit daily).
Now, the shouting over Skype from his mum when he broke the news at the next decent wifi window on the island, was priceless. We could hear this thickly accented Kansas woman from three walls down.
Still, Willy remains to this day a legend.
A dumbass, scurvy ridden, algae infested one, but still a legend.