The Shanty Goes to Melbourne

Friday. The shanty is open on Collins Street. The galleon got to Melbourne five weeks ahead of us and the captain has been unbearable about it.

I hung every lantern in the new hut myself. Same timber, same barrels, same window full of sea, same treasure tucked away where the captain is sure nobody will look. I swept up twice. If a few things ended up easier to notice in the sweeping, that is the fault of the broom.

Melbourne crews are very serious when they arrive and very loud when they leave. I like them. The first lot argued over a map for ten minutes, then stopped arguing and sorted it in one. That is the island working. It does not care how clever you are, only whether you are talking.

The captain came over from the ship to inspect. He stood in the doorway, nodded at the lanterns and said, at last, a hideout worthy of me. Then he walked into a post. I built that post. I have no regrets.

Melbourne coffee is very strong. I have been awake since Tuesday.