Tide gets high in the evening. When the tide is high, errant logs float off the beach. Beachcombing is very much tide-based. And we really needed to do some combing. So, last night at 8:00 we went out a-hunting for some more logs.

We do not yet have enough fire-wood logs collected. I cut what we have (maybe 30 lengths) and half of it is split and my visual guesstimating suggests we are gonna be short. Actually, we are gonna be about 33% short. Two cords instead of three. That’s not good.

We took Sal’s boat because the engine is more powerful and towing logs home is a slow drag at the best of times. The ‘best of times’ means we find some logs to drag. There are fewer salvages this year. We took both dogs because Sal thinks it is fun for the dogs. We also took a chainsaw, a couple of pike poles, a lot of ropes with hammer-in spikes (also called log dogs) and some hand-tools.

The procedure is to go as far away from home as you think you can go while still being able to get home before dark towing logs. Last night that meant only two miles. We saw a few ‘consideration-worthies’ as we headed North but eventually came across a clutch of logs at the farthest point and hooked up five of ’em for the pull home. Of course, five logs, all with their own lines and minds of their own are a wrangle. And a wrangle can get messy. When a wrangle gets messy, it becomes a tangle and a tangle around the prop is especially annoying. And we had all of those.

I lifted the motor and Sal hung off the end of the boat, half-hanging in the water, and unwrapped a tangle of ropes. In the meantime, we lost the pike pole over the side. And the dogs were 100% in the way all the time. We enjoyed the dimming light of our evening sunset in that romantic way for about half an hour but then – having had enough fun for the night – headed home.

We retrieved the pike pole. It sinks until the last few feet where the pole is stuffed airtight.

On the way home, we whimsically retrieved a sixth log on the beach that required letting Sal off onto the rocks to release it and then pushing the log out for me to gather. That part went well but, of course, the dogs went with her and Daisy sometimes decides NOT to come when called. Long story short: Sal was knee deep at the shoreline edge grabbing Daisy (80 pounds) and flinging her from the shore into the boat once everyone’s patience had run out. But Daisy had fun.

When we got back, I dropped Sal on our lagoon beach. She tip-toes down the gunwales of her little boat with six tow lines in her hand. She steps off onto the slimy rocks in the fading light and pulls the six logs in with her. The dogs, natch, join her. I return the boat to the dock. She ties the logs up to a shoreline anchor and I cut them into lengths the next day.

Next day: and so I did. We got about 14 lengths from the six logs, each length being 10-12 feet depending on log girth. The highline can only lift about 400 pounds per lift so I really cut them to weight rather than length. Those 14 lengths represent about 11 – 12% of the wood we need. We have 66%. Now, with the new ones, we have, say, 75%. It appears that there is more fun in store for us yet. Whooppeee