The flight of the sailboats

I saw this boat in the cove yesterday and the water and its shadow were so clear it seemed airborne. As more boats arrived, the dance of the sailboats at anchorage began. Initially two were anchored. Another arrived and dropped its anchor, perhaps a little too close to a boat already there. They hauled the anchor, circled around and dropped it again. We go to bed and someone drags anchor, or simply decides to move during the night, and the positions change again. Someone told us they were here when there were at least 18 boats in the cove. Hard to imagine.

Flying Sandpiper
A couple of ketches
We celebrated Valentine’s day yesterday with flowers from the garden.
Valentine's day flowers
Today I found this heart on the lawn from a Cape Barren Goose.
Cape Barren Valentine Heart
And what about this soup made entirely from the garden’s beets. Gorgeous color.
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Signs of the island

Many visitors and caretakers have left their mark on Deal Island with signs and cairns. Tim made a sign for Winter Cove, which we will add to the collection. Hopefully it won’t be used as firewood by the next group of campers.

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I found evidence of bored caretakers with a good sense of humor in the workshop, this handwritten sign is on the back of a real estate for sale sign.

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There may even be aboriginal middens (mounds with shells). The first two survey markers were placed in the early 1800’s but since then, they have multiplied and we hope to find them all. We found a handwritten map in the library, which showed 8 cairns. We think we may have found two more. We took a real bushwack the other day in the quest for three cairns on two peaks. Instead, we found three cairns on this one peak near Winter Cove and enjoyed beautiful views of the cove from a different perspective.

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It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood

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We took it easy yesterday because the day before we worked on clearing the jetty road of sand that washed down during our day of record rainfall. Now I know. Record rainfall means more roads to clear. We’ve yet to get back to unearth one of the the culverts on the lighthouse track. I know I won’t get any sympathy from anyone in the northeastern United States who have spent all winter digging themselves out from under record snowfalls. The fact that a record is set is exciting for about a moment until the reality of it sets in.

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We are working on a project for the island, building a bench from reclaimed materials: old wood, bolts and and nuts. I think even the hand saws were reclaimed. We’re not allowed to have power tools. No fun evacuating a lighthouse caretaker because they cut off a finger with the power saw. So we saw the old fashioned way. Well Tim saws and I sit on the wood to keep it steady and spin my drop spindle. Reclaimed means we find a bolt in one box in the workshop, then have to sort through all the nuts to find its mate.

Sometimes we have to shoo skinks off the wood.

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While we were in the workshop, a fog settled over the island and it became totally still. At one point, I went outside and couldn’t see beyond the solar panels, which probably means they weren’t doing much for us that day.

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The weather changed and after dinner there was an incredible sunset and the sky was an iridescent orange and pink. Then I caught the moon as it was setting across the water over the swashway. Now it’s back to work clearing tracks.

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Quiet Places: Another guest blogger (Tim) post

I’ve always been sensitive to sound, a fortuitous (or tortuous) trait for a musician. The soundscape where I live is very important. I’m done with cities, I’m afraid. I can’t abide the din.  Deal Island, on the other hand, is the quietest place I’ve ever lived. Aside from the incessant wind, animals and a few small airplanes a week are the only sounds we hear.  The loudest animals by far are the Cape Barren geese. The males squawk and the females grunt. Next come the Little or Fairy penguins which snore and whistle half the night. The other day our reverie was disturbed by the twin 1,100 horsepower engine roar of the Van Diemen, a Tassie police boat bent on routing out abalone and crayfish poachers. They can be heard 14 miles away, giving the poachers plenty of time to ditch their catch.

Number 2 on the list is our home in the Adirondacks.  Again, it’s mostly animals we hear:  coyotes and birds being the most notable.  When we’re sitting in our outdoor hot tub at night we detect the occasional whine of car tires on Route 9, two miles away.  Fortunately, I-87–far removed–took away all the trucks and most of the cars.

The 3rd quietest place is Seguin Island.   No surprise there.  Again, the wind is a constant.  But we often heard the grumble of the lobster boats.  What do they have against mufflers?

Lobster boats

Then there was the fog horn:  2 blasts every 20 seconds during frequent fog.

Fog detector and horns

And, loudest of all, the Coast Guard helicopter.

Coast Guard Helicopter

The Universe delivers

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Only a few days ago I posted about our lack of snacks. We have eaten our way through the crackers and chocolate. We aren’t going to starve, or even lose weight, but the occasional treat is always nice.

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Then yesterday, two boats, who had been here about a week ago on their way north, dropped anchor and spent the night. They were on their return trip, headed home. We enjoyed a barbecue with them on the pier. Both boats were built by their owners, who weren’t boat builders but just wanted to build their own boats to their own specifications. They each took about thirteen years to complete and the hulls are made of steel. They look like beautiful, seaworthy vessels. Back to food. I made a little apple plate cake for dessert and brought it down. It was a hit. The next day, before departing they stopped by the caretaker’s house and asked if we could use any fresh lettuce or tomatoes. They were going to make an overnight passage home and wouldn’t need most of their food. The garden is doing well but the tomatoes aren’t quite ripe and I said sure.P2090134.JPG P2090144.JPG

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They hailed us on the VHF radio after they dropped it on the pier and I went down to pick up the booty. Initially, I was only going to pick up the perishables because we were going back down to the cove to shovel sand off the road. But the bag wasn’t too heavy and I lugged it back up the hill. It was like Christmas.

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I felt around the outside of the bag to try to figure out what was inside it. Then I lined up all the contents on the table. We are no longer snackless. We have potato chips, crackers and chocolate, carrots, cabbage, potatoes and lettuce, and a bottle of wine. At least for today. How nice. They radioed back that they enjoyed the apple cake and wanted to reciprocate since it seemed like we were shipwrecked here.

No coincidences? Ask and you shall receive.

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We’re just chipping at the tip of the iceberg

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Tim likes to refer to many tasks we undertake on Deal Island as Sisyphean (endless and fruitless as that of Sisyphus whose task in Hades was to push uphill a stone that at once rolled down again). I am trying to photo document this term with his hand moving a boulder up a hill. I haven’t gotten there yet but I understand what he means. We spent several days working on the lighthouse track. We cleared the ditches alongside its length of sheoke needles and silt. We went back after our record setting rainstorm and one of the concrete culverts vanished completely, buried under silt. Now to dig it out again from under the silt, a week later. IT’S BACK!

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Rabbits were introduced on Deal Island by Admiral Stokes aboard the Beagle as a food source for shipwrecked sailors in the 1800’s. The population waxes and wanes. It’s in a waxing mode now. They’re not in the garden but they dig holes all around the yard. Some quite deep. Then they leave their poo nearby. The funny thing is, they seem to remove the dirt and bring it elsewhere. There is usually not a pile of dug up dirt next to the hole. The other day, I filled the big holes and put patches of grass over them like repairing a divot on a golf course. THEY’RE BACK! Tim thinks with a vengeance. As if to say, oh yeah, try and stop me. They are a good predictor of water sources though. Most of their holes are over either clay or pvc water pipes, which are buried underground.

The geese preferentially poo on any concrete around the compound. The same day I filled the rabbit holes, I cleaned up goose poo. They apparently like the area very clean and immediately shat all over it. THEY’RE BACK!

Next is weed management. Sea spurge is an invasive introduced plant on Deal Island. It is waterborne and arrives from the southern coast of Australia. There are large projects by Wildcare to eradicate it, or at least control it. Tim cleared a bank about a month ago. IT’S BACK!

Mow the lawn, it grows again. Weed the garden, the weeds grow again. We wrangle the wallabies out of the compound, we turn around and THEY”RE BACK. Make a meal, we eat it and IT”S GONE! Maybe that’s what life is all about. Simply a series of repetitive, Sisyphean tasks.

Monday morning quarterback

Morning light

Well actually Monday morning spectator. It’s 11:00 am on Monday, February 7, and we are watching the Super Bowl, live, on Australian television. How weird is that? To celebrate, I made a batch of pretzelsSuper bowl pretzels but the beer may have to wait for a more reasonable hour of day. The advertising ads don’t compare and are, in fact, rather depressing.

The most common one is for “Senior Insurance” to lure people over 50 to sign up for insurance to pay for funeral costs. Benefits up to $15,000, no medical needed. Nice and uplifting for the game. I’ll get my cane and hobble up the hill later today. How cute was Cameron Diaz feeding popcorn to A. Rod? It’s just not the same without the E*Trade commercials or a bet riding on the game, or at least those box scores for each period (or is that quarter?).

We have watched cricket here without really having a clue as to what was going on, and, apparently, the match can last for days.

Enough of spectating, time to get back to action. The garden produced the perfect tomato today. I’m starting to tidy it up again and make sure it’s in good condition for the next caretakers. The only trouble is we have had record cold temperatures and I just planted a bunch of seedlings. They’re out there shivering and blowing in the wind.The perfect tomato  

After dinner, we fired up the computer to watch the American Super Bowl ads. Seems like a strange activity but it was a way to do what family and friends were doing at home. We don’t want to miss out on pop culture during our three months. We had to stop because the colors outside were incredible, bright orange and pink as some clouds and a brief shower passed by. Then a rainbow at the end and a glorious sunset.

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Sunset

Deal Island record rain reported on the news

Our record rains were reported on the news last night. I missed it. The rain has stopped and the weather today reminded me of a crisp fall day in Maine. It will be windy for the next few days and with a southerly wind (perhaps from Antarctica) and I had to find my wool socks again. Tim went off to do manly things and I hung around the house. He found some of the culverts we just cleared full of silt after the last downpour. I guess it’s back to the rock pile for me.

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I spoke with the crew of a boat, which anchored at Erith Island last night, and gave them the weather forecast. it looks like they will be here for a few days. They made an ill fated attempt to leave this morning and encountered big seas and 30 knot winds. So they came back.

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The garden is a big success. I’m pulling carrots out in bunches. I finished spinning a skein of alpaca on the drop spindle.   And it’s sooo soft.

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Here are photos of the turkish drop spindle, spinning, then being taken apart

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to result in, like magic, a center pull ball of yarn. Lastly, I take both ends of yarn and spin them together again to ply the yarn (combine two or more strands together). So after about 4 days work, I have 100 yards of 2 ply, lovely alpaca yarn.

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Record level rain recorded by me

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Our one official job is to check the rain gauge daily and report it by fax to the Australian Bureau of Meteorology, fondly referred to as BOM. It rained so much yesterday, we read and emptied the gauge several times. This morning, while Tim walked the lighthouse road, in the pouring rain to see how the ditch drainage work held up, I took the fourth and final reading: a whopping 60.0 mm of rain in 24 hours: 2.4 inches. I don’t track the rain at home so don’t know how it compares but it was coming down thunderously. When I looked through the rain records for Deal Island, I found it is the most rain recorded in one day since 2009 when they had 79 mm.

As a result, we have clothes and the flag hanging up to dry and buckets strategically placed throughout the house to catch leaks.

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When I needed drinking water for coffee this morning, I had to don my foulies to go out to the water tank. I probably should have just let the pot outside to catch the rain directly instead of runoff from the roof.

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This means I don’t have to water the garden today and I can work on my knitting and spinning. I’m finishing a pair of socks and spinning some alpaca. But first, time for another batch of yogurt.

Here’s how the sky looked yesterday before the rains began. Maybe it will look that way again tomorrow.

Morning over the swashway of Dover and Erith Islands

I took a shower in a shower today

Rain is predicted for today and tomorrow and lots of it. They were right about today. We had early morning visitors from the SV Enterprize, a replica of a local cargo ship from the 1800’s, headed to Hobart for the wooden boat festival. A few passengers walked up to the lighthouse and the rest poked about the museum. We went down to the cove to get photos of the ship and were met by a crew member in a dinghy who invited us aboard for tea. Another adventure.

She is a beautiful boat, made from Huon pine and salvaged timbers, all authentic. The spars are plantation Sequoia’s grown in Australia. The boat held 8 passengers and 8 crew; the passengers were recovering from rough seas. The ship’s Master, Kevin, couldn’t have been nicer. Unfortunately the rain began right about when we got aboard so we didn’t explore too much topsides. One of the passengers must have been really sick because he wanted to know if I was from Melbourne, Australia. I assure you, I have not gained an Australian accent.

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When we returned to the house, we were drenched to the bone but somehow my camera escaped unscathed My waterproof (not) watch has some condensation below the “crystal”. I hopped out of all my clothes and then heard a voice near the living room. I though it was from outside. I jumped into a dress and headed there to be greeted by one of the passengers, who had just returned from the lighthouse, standing in the living room looking for the rest of his shipmates. I may have been fully dressed when I got there.