text: > Go downward
  You fill your lungs to capacity and dive into the water.
  
  Underwater, (drifting)
  The gradually sloping ocean floor is only about ten feet below the surface here. The sandy bottom is layered with a suspension of mud and fine silt. Here and there, thin leaved plants claw through the mud like grasping fingers. Dominating the entire area is an enormous slab of barnacle encrusted rock.
  
  The crab, which had resumed its perch on top of the rock, scuttles back into the fissure on your approach.
  
  The crab pops out of the fissure, spots you, and scuttles back in.
  
  > take the shrimp
  You're already carrying the shrimp.
  
  The crab pops out of the fissure, spots you, and scuttles back in.
  
  Pressure starts to build in your lungs.
  
  > take the stave
  You're already carrying the broken stave.
  
  The pressure turns into an itch, which quickly becomes a burning heat.
  
  > drop stave
  You let go of the white rubber strap, the shrimp and the broken stave. Together, they float up to the surface of the water and bob lightly on the waves.
  
  The crab extends its eye stalks and peers tentatively from the fissure, as if sensing the shrimp's presence. Unfortunately, it soon spots you and retreats back into its hole.
  
  The burning pain in your lungs grows stronger, triggering the first feelings of panic and setting your heart racing.
  
  > go upwards
  Lungs burning, you kick and claw your way toward the glittering sunlight above you. Gasping, you break the surface and fill your lungs with the salty ocean air.
  
  Deep Water, South of Pier, (treading water)
  There's nothing but endless ocean to the east. Shallower waters beckon to the west. The long cement pier finally comes to an end to the north of you, its supporting pylons disappearing into the murky depths.
  You see a broken stave, a shrimp, and a white rubber strap, bobbing
  on the waves.
  The broken stave is joined to the shrimp by the white rubber strap.
  
  A rather large wave surges over your head, leaving you momentarily sputtering.
  
  The broken stave disappears beneath the waves with a sudden jerk, but pops back to the surface only a moment later.
  
  The broken stave starts drifting slowly toward shallower water, towing the shell behind it.
  
  > take the stave
  You harvest the shell from your simple trap. It proves to be quite hefty. The crab has withdrawn deep into the shell's spirals. You tug on the rubber strap, and it pulls free with a small snap, leaving the strap tied to the broken stave.
  
  You're still admiring your shiny new prize when your eye is caught by a tiny motion from above. Your eyes are drawn to the very tip of the pier, where the old man is just visible as a small blob of shadow against the pale sky. It's hard to tell from here, but he seems to be putting his pole away.
  
  > examine the shell
  It's a beautiful conch shell, half the size of your head. Nature has painted its whorls a luscious, glossy pink, and dotted them with subtly toned spots of brown and white. A crab is packed tightly inside it, entirely hidden but for one bony claw.
  
  > listen to the conch
  The conch shell isn't making any noise.
  
  The conch shell rocks in your grasp.
  
  > Go west
  Cool wet sand gives way to warm dry sand as you climb up the beach.
  
  Dry Sand, South of Pier
  The cool early evening has left the beach nearly deserted but for a few joggers and unsupervised children. To the east, the dry, powdery sand goes hard as it rolls down toward the swelling tide. The boardwalk lies back to the west. To the north, tall dunes flank the base of the pavilion, blocking your way.
  Someone has scrawled a message and a simple diagram in the powdery sand.
  A heap of trash has been scattered into the sand by the squabbling flock of gulls. The shallow hole you dug here earlier is still visible.
  
  Hundreds of gulls are engaged in a fierce battle over the pile of refuse, squabbling and squawking at each other and filling the air with hungry shrieks.
  
  A toddler of about four, gurgling excitedly, barrels into the flock of gulls. A flurry of white and grey feathers explodes into the air, only to flap back to earth a few feet away.
  
  > go to the west
  You skip across the wooden boardwalk, passing over the scrub covered dunes.
  
  The brick beach path ends at the foot of a cement stairway that leads east to the Tybrisa Pavilion. To the northeast and southeast, twin boardwalks wrap around the pavilion towards the beach. By one of the boardwalks is a simple public shower, while a white diving bell stands near the entrance of a small building to the northwest. Your hotel towers back to the west, obscuring the sunset.
  A sign advertising boiled peanuts points east, into the pavilion. There's an ugly gap in the path.
  You see a strapless pair of goggles, an antique bottle, a clam
  shell, a length of rope, and a cork here.
  
  > go to the east
  You skip lightly up the concrete stairs to the pavilion.
  
  You're standing in the center of a colossal gazebo that provides shade for sunburned tourists like yourself. The octagonal floor is made of unbroken grey concrete, bordered on each face by a waist high railing. Tall beams support a sloping wooden canopy that rises over three times your height. A red brick enclosure squats in the southwest corner and a small snack bar nestles up against the enclosure to the south. To the east lies the foot of a seemingly endless pier.
  There are numerous wooden benches here. Right now, they're
  stacked, one on top of another, into a towering wooden column twice your height.
  
  An early evening breeze fills your nose with the tangy scent of brine.
  
  > go east
  The light of the setting sun warms your back as you exit the shade of the pavilion and begin the long stroll down the pier.
  
  The pier is even longer than it looked. It stretches back west to the great pavilion and continues still further east towards the sea. A small shelter rests at the far end. From below, you can hear the fizzle and hiss of the shallow surf.
  
  A young boy wearing a bright blue bathing suit and matching flip-flops runs by.
  
  The conch shell rocks in your grasp.
  
  > go east
  It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the shade beneath the small shelter.
  
  The pier ends here in a small rectangular shelter with a low wooden roof. You imagine that, seen from overhead, it would look like a pendulum hung from the face of the pavilion. The railing surrounds you on all sides but to the west, where you can follow the pier back towards the pavilion. A water fountain is tucked in one corner.
  
  The old man is here, apparently packing up for the night.
  
  The old man seems reluctantly to be packing his gear away. He's already reeled in his line, and his rod lies beside him. He stows the flies, lures and weights into the tackle box and folds it up. Then, he draws a large folding blade from his hip pocket and proceeds to gut his catch. He takes each fish in turn from the pail and deftly decapitates it, slits it lengthwise, strips out the viscera, and sweeps the offal into the sea. Once done, he wraps each fish in newspaper and tosses them into a burlap sack at his feet. Once the pail is empty, he swings the sack over his shoulder, collects his rod and tackle, and turns his feet to the west.
  
  > examine the pail
  It's a large metal pail, left behind by the old man.
  
  The old man hikes off toward the setting sun, hauling away the day's catch in the burlap sack slung over his shoulder. Whether by chance or intent, he seems to have left the pail behind.
  
  > take the pail
  You've already got your hands full.
  
  An elderly couple strolls past you, hand in hand, clearly enjoying the sunset.
  
  > drop the stave
  You toss the broken stave and the white rubber strap to the ground.
  
  > take the pail
  Taken.
  
  A bunch of young children run past, slowing only long enough to point at you and giggle.
  
  > go to the west
  The light of the setting sun stabs into your eyes as you exit the shade of the small shelter. You wait a moment for your eyes to adjust and then begin the long stroll down the pier.
  
  The pier is even longer than it looked. It stretches back west to the great pavilion and continues still further east towards the sea. A small shelter rests at the far end. From below, you can hear the fizzle and hiss of the shallow surf.
  
  An elderly couple strolls past you, hand in hand, clearly enjoying the sunset.
  
  The conch shell rocks in your grasp.
  
  > jump off the Pier
  You climb over the railing and maneuver yourself so that you're standing on your heels facing out with your toes hanging out over empty space. You steel yourself, take a deep breath, and... jump! The ground rushes up faster than you could have imagined. It seems you've only just jumped when wham! Your feet hit the ground with a stinging impact that sends you sprawling forwards into the sand. You lie, stunned, for several moments. After a time the stinging fades from your feet, if not from your memory, and you climb back to a vertical position. You seem to have lost several of your posessions in the fall.
  
  Damp Sand, North of Pier
  The damp, hard packed sand is darkened almost to bronze by the relentless tide to the east, while to the west it lightens to a powdery gold before ending in tall dunes. To the south, you can pass through the pylons supporting the long pier that stretches east from the pavilion.
  Someone has built an enormous sand sculpture here. It seems to be some sort of reptile.
  You see a mussel shell, a crab shell, a snail shell, a conch shell, and a pail, lying in the sand.
  
  > put the conch in the cavity
  You set the conch shell in the cavity. It's a perfect fit, and somehow you can feel the... rightness... of it. A shiver seems to ripple over the dragon's spine, as if presaging some magical awakening. Uh oh. Sensing the lack of any restraint, the crab has also begun to stir. It probes the sculpted sand beneath it and, finding no resistance, extends its claws and scuttles out of the cavity. It falls from the dragon's face, then retreats hastily back into its shell on impact with the wet sandy floor.
  
  > Pail
  The conch shell: Taken.
  The pail: Taken.
  
  > fill the pail with Water
  You dip the bucket into the ocean, where it fills up immediately. The added weight of the water in the bucket staggers you, forcing you to hold it with both hands. You set the conch in the pail to keep from losing it in the surf.
  
  > Go west
  Splashing and struggling under the weight of the pail full of water, you stagger out of the shallow surf.
  
  Damp Sand, North of Pier
  The damp, hard packed sand is darkened almost to bronze by the relentless tide to the east, while to the west it lightens to a powdery gold before ending in tall dunes. To the south, you can pass through the pylons supporting the long pier that stretches east from the pavilion.
  Someone has built an enormous sand sculpture here. It seems to be some sort of reptile.
  You see a mussel shell, a crab shell, and a snail shell, lying in
  the sand.
  
  > Go west
  Hard packed wet sand gives way to loose dry sand as you struggle up the beach under the weight of the pail full of water.
  
  Dry Sand, North of Pier
  The season is early and the day late, leaving the beach deserted but for a few strollers. The golden sand turns dark as it leads east toward the tide line , where someone has built a large sand sculpture. The boardwalk lies back to the west. To the south, tall dunes flank the base of the Tybrisa Pavilion, blocking your way.
  Chained to the end of the boardwalk is a trash barrel.
  
  A slight gust raises a thin skein of sand and whips it across your ankles.
  
  > go to the west
  You stagger west over the boardwalk under the weight of the pail full of water, thankful to have solid ground under your feet.
  
  The brick beach path ends at the foot of a cement stairway that leads east to the Tybrisa Pavilion. To the northeast and southeast, twin boardwalks wrap around the pavilion towards the beach. By one of the boardwalks is a simple public shower, while a white diving bell stands near the entrance of a small building to the northwest. Your hotel towers back to the west, obscuring the sunset.
  A sign advertising boiled peanuts points east, into the pavilion. There's an ugly gap in the path.
  You see a strapless pair of goggles, an antique bottle, a clam
  shell, a length of rope, and a cork here.
  
  > Go east
  Bucket in hands, you stagger up the concrete ramp. It's a good thing the ramp was there, as you doubt you could have carried the water filled bucket up all those stairs.
  
  You're standing in the center of a colossal gazebo that provides shade for sunburned tourists like yourself. The octagonal floor is made of unbroken grey concrete, bordered on each face by a waist high railing. Tall beams support a sloping wooden canopy that rises over three times your height. A red brick enclosure squats in the southwest corner and a small snack bar nestles up against the enclosure to the south. To the east lies the foot of a seemingly endless pier.
  There are numerous wooden benches here. Right now, they're
  stacked, one on top of another, into a towering wooden column twice your height.
  
  A young, auburn haired woman wearing nothing more than sneakers and an incredibly revealing thong bikini jogs past. Jogging alongside her is a darkly-tanned, slim-hipped young man, similarly dressed.
  
  > Go south
  You stagger south under the bucket's weight.
  
  A quaint little snack bar nestles beside the brick enclosure, while the rest of the pavilion sprawls out to the north. A hand-painted sign above the counter advertises boiled peanuts. The vendor has gone home for the night.
  Behind the counter is an industrial boiler.
  
  A fat, grey gull swoops past you, lands momentarily on the nearby railing, and then launches itself back into the air.
  
  > pour Water into the boiler
  Which water do you mean, the salt water, or the ocean water?
  
  > Salt
  You heave the heavy pail full of water up to your chest and set it on the counter. Before tipping the pail out, you remove the item from it and set it on the counter. Then, you pour the contents of the pail into the boiler in a quick, heavy stream. The water from the pail fills the boiler about three quarters of the way to the top. You figure that should be sufficient.
  
  A young, auburn haired woman wearing nothing more than sneakers and an incredibly revealing thong bikini jogs past. Jogging alongside her is a darkly-tanned, slim-hipped young man, similarly dressed.
  
  The shell rocks as the crab inside considers its surroundings.
  
  > take the shell
  Taken.
  
  The conch shell rocks in your grasp.
  
  > examine the sieve
  It's an open-topped wireframe box with a metal handle, used to extract and drain peanuts from the boiler. It's currently submerged in boiling water.
  
  The conch shell rocks in your grasp.
  
  > put the conch in sieve
  You toss the conch shell in the sieve.
  
  A young, auburn haired woman wearing nothing more than sneakers and an incredibly revealing thong bikini jogs past. Jogging alongside her is a darkly-tanned, slim-hipped young man, similarly dressed. The crab crawls out of the sieve and falls into the boiler.
  
  The crab scuttles about in the boiler, revived by the cool salt water.
  
  > turn on the boiler
  You turn the knob to the 'On' position.
  
  Several gulls land nearby, briefly tussle over some invisible morsel, and fly off shrieking.
  
  The crab scuttles about in the boiler, revived by the cool salt water.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  An elderly couple strolls past you, hand in hand, clearly enjoying the sunset.
  
  The crab scuttles about in the boiler, revived by the cool salt water.
  
  The water in the boiler begins to simmer.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes...
  
  A fat, grey gull swoops past you, lands momentarily on the nearby railing, and then launches itself back into the air.
  
  The crab darts back and forth in the boiler, agitated by the water's warmth.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  A young boy wearing a bright blue bathing suit and matching flip-flops runs by.
  
  The crab darts back and forth in the boiler, agitated by the water's warmth.
  
  Steam begins to rise from the water in the boiler.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes...
  
  Several gulls land nearby, briefly tussle over some invisible morsel, and fly off shrieking.
  
  The crab scuttles along the walls of the boiler, searching frenziedly for any escape from the searing heat. Finally, it gets one claw over the lip of the boiler and pulls itself out and onto the counter.
  
  > turn off the boiler
  You turn the knob back to the 'Off' position.
  
  An early evening breeze fills your nose with the tangy scent of brine.
  
  > take the sieve
  You consider the near boiling water, and decide otherwise.
  
  The shell rocks as the crab inside considers its surroundings.
  
  Steam ceases to rise from the water in the boiler.