On the Hard
Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou
12.27.165N
61.29.246W

I noticed yesterday that the roosters on this island not only crow at dawn but also at dusk. Sheep and goats wander through the dock yard at will and there are the various island dogs, donkeys, and sea gulls, that have unionized to agree that no human will sleep past dawn. Once again, we all started our day with a quick rain; part of a package deal, I’m beginning to believe.

Today, after my daily run for ice, I got my nose stuck in a book (Patterson’s Cradle and All) and it didn’t come out until I was finished. Dale, on the other hand, put his book aside after the rain to polish bright work and clean the rust off the gelcoat. He started at the pulpit and made steady progress along the starboard side, chitchatting with everybody that came by. He made it to the gate before he called it a day and went for a walk.

In the meantime, Edwin managed to get two coats of paint on the Palace, including the bottom of the keel, without any of it being ruined by the passing showers.

I’ll have to make up for my lack of activity tomorrow.