Back to work, people!

Fog rolled in last night, and the wind has kicked up a bit. The lighthouse beacon started flashing well before dusk, the fog was that thick. One would think that with constant wind the fog would blow away, but not here.

The change is weather was actually wonderful. Working through the late morning and afternoon wasn’t nearly as hot. And a solo walk through the mist dampened windy woods here was beautiful and unsettling.

My footsteps seemed too loud at times, a branch snapped or a rock dislodged. The constant thrashing of the tops of the trees in the wind, and the patient, silent stillness of the rainforest below. I realized that I had not seen or heard another living creature during my entire time alone in the forest. The quiet became dense. Not oppressive, but thick, like wading in water. Viscous.

If that makes any sense.

If sound can be viscous.

The major project this trip is building a ramp for Helga, the skiff, to sleep this winter. She is sturdy, but too much depends on the crew showing up and finding her intact. The winds and the waves get high, so she needs a safer perch.

Alas, much of the work involves a healthy dose of what I call Salmon Beach ingenuity. Mix equal parts of engineering expertise, out of the box thinking, and ‘ah, fuck it, hit it with something!’ and there you go.

Alas, not something OSHA would approve of, so sorry folks, no pics or video. Suffice to say- epic amounts of timber are being moved, and a shotgun might have been involved at some point. So I heard, from a questionable source, so likely didn’t happen.

But there was a brief dance break on the helipad with the beacon going, so that’s cool!