Island walk

A little drama this morning . . . I came down to the main building a little after six and went to make the coffee for everybody – and there was no water!   A moderately serious condition on an island.

Being somewhat prudent, I had a gallon jug of drinking water in my cabin, but almost nobody else does.

So I slogged down to the pump, which is in a swampy (of course) corner of the island, hoping that there would be a circuit breaker, but no.  Just a switch, and flicking it on and off had no effect.

But even as I type, Rob is churning across the water from his home on the mainland.  (a bit later . . . )  He came charging up in the little Mule and is off doing mechanic's magic.  A couple of residents got a big bucket, which they filled with seawater down at the dock,, to allow people to flush the toilet.  That's not actually critical, since we do have an outhouse.  I brought my own gallon of drinking water down to the kitchen, so people could at least have coffee.

That will be gone soon.  But I do have ten or twelve Heinekins to  help me weather the storm.  (Curious to have a working refrigerator but no water.)

(Later)  Rob traced the problem to a hose clamp, which failed during the night.  So the pump cheerfully pumped out all of the water in the cistern onto the ground,  and (I guess) then turned itself off.  So he's off to get a replacement hose clamp, and then we'll have water again, in a couple of hours.  The pump will have to run for about eight hours to draw enough water for showers, but we'll have drinking water.

It's not something anybody planned for, but it's covered by a sort of meta-rule:  if you live on an island, it's only a matter of time before something crucial breaks.  Fortunately, there are two boats, and a pretty good little hardware store on the mainland.

Yesterday we had a fun expedition.  All of us went on a walk through the woods looking at various plants and fungi.  Some of those with northern blood in their veins went swimming.  Having lived in Florida for most of forty years, I don't even put a toe in water that's under 75 degrees.  I continued on around the island with another guy who isn't into recreational hypothermia, a nice two-and-a-half-hour walk, about half on rocks and half through the thick woods.  There's a trail marked with old buoys that have washed up, but some of them have weathered into invisibility, which gives the activity a nice hide-and-seek flavor. 

After dinner I gave a reading from Work Done for Hire, the novel I hope I'll finish this month.  It was well-received.  As I may have mentioned here, I started the book on Norton Island six years ago, but interrupted it to write Marsbound . . . which grew into a trilogy.

Slept well last night and woke up only a little ache-y from the clambering.  Now that the water situation is stable, I'll get back to work.

Joe