Time Height Clicks Name
Journal from Berry’s Creek Tidal Study: 24 hours in.
9:00 1.75, 14,13,13 jk
Hour twenty-four. My brain pickled by caffeine. Paul talking of amphetamines. The dilemma of having Don's rescue craft in addition to the normal overhead of equipment. Don Smith whistling out of tune to "That'll Be The Day" by Linda Rondstadt while Paul plays the bass on his belt and an imaginary connective fret near his left shoulder.
Dawn taking that extra time its taking us all with this fatigue to read the dissolved oxygen. Problem: no dissolved oxygen in our brains. Solution: Prolonged breathing with no voluntary exertion; deep meditation (as achieved by Himalayan Yaks) or drugged sleep (a la Don Smith's Poison Ivy Knockout Pill).
9:15 1.5 10, 11, 11 jk
Listening to a woman on the radio "This little girl has got the hots for you" as Don and Jim attack Dawn. "I'm tired." she screams. Mist drifting in on a slight cool breeze from the south, with the familiar low tide stench of the East Rutherford Treatment Plant. Eileen's "Got the Fever for You" as she indicates that, after reading this account, the writer has been affected by this project. "You're sick!" was briefly put and welcomed as an indication of the strong feelings elicited by this dramatic historical dialogue.
9:30 1.4 9,9,10 jk
My fingers don't want to work. They resist wiring that 1.5 volt battery post. It's as if I'm getting a message from my body. I'm not quite sure what it's trying to tell me. But the question of the morning blares out: "Who is more popular, Linda Rondstadt, with her sultry and wailing country rock voice and her lustful album covers or Bob Seger, who, in this case, seems to be running against the wind?
(Another hand). It is very close, but I think that perhaps the winner will be Bob.
The foreign pen intruding into this diatribe is that of the lady who freshened last night's wilting wildflowers with new pickins. Lee picked the original batch and her doodling on the styrofoam cup holding that goldenrod and _____ and_____ revealed hidden desires.
Oh no! Linda lost. Of 199 votes in 7 and a half minutes, 133 were for Seger. Argh. Is sexism dead?
9:45 0,0,0 (jk) 0,0,0 (Eileen)
The time into this project is incredible. I nearly believed the project was finished when all the planning had drawn to a close. Incredible the careful preparation for these long field days.
This tide was picked for convenience. A low incoming coinciding with a reasonable norming hour. The problem of lost sleep over two complete tidal cycles is minimized by beginning the 30-hour blitz after a normal night's sleep. The pain of those 2 a.m. starting times on the day after minimize recovery time. No matter. I am still blahhed.
10:00
I am sure the tide has turned. Phrag fragments floating upstream. But the velocity meter in positioin #2 refuses to respond. Zippo. Nada. Nyet. Height is about 1.2 feet. Maybe it's the wind. Maybe the sun, moon and earth are conspiring to keep us here, waiting for a tide that will never come. Maybe that was the LAST HIGH TIDE. Maybe the ocean's cork was pulled and all those oil tankers and warships will get caught in the drainpipe of Mother Earth as the biggest Army Corps project ever dreamed of becomes a reality. No water, no flooding. Simple.
10:15 1.1, zero mk
10:30 1.1, zero mk
Notice public, ole MK has shown up. Clean. Bright-eyed. Hair curled. She begs us to wait for ONE MORE READING. Easy for her, humph. Inverted sweatshirt, eyeing that tide gauge with the Topcon. "I have a lot of nerve yawning. Fell asleep in the bathtub until 4 am. "
The nerve of some environmentalists.
The generator just said: "Fuck You, Nick."
