text: [Themes: Fantasy, beach, maritime]
  
  > Go down
  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 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.
  
  > show the shrimp to crab
  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 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.
  
  Pressure starts to build in your lungs.
  
  > give the shrimp to the crab
  You release the shrimp. Free of your grip, it darts immediately toward the dark fissure in the rock. With surprising speed, the crab comes to life and goes after it. The chase is brief, and shortly the crab retreats to the depths of the fissure, shrimp in claw. Hmm. If only you had some way of holding on to the shrimp. You release the shrimp. Free of your grip, it darts immediately toward the dark fissure in the rock. With surprising speed, the crab comes to life and goes after it. The chase is brief, and shortly the crab retreats to the depths of the fissure, shrimp in claw. Hmm. If only you had some way of holding on to the shrimp.
  
  The crab extends its claws and clacks them together menacingly.
  
  Pressure starts to build in your lungs.
  
  > take the shell
  You thrust your hand boldly into the fissure and probe the darkness, trying to grab the conch shell. Ouch! Something bit you! Or maybe pinched you. Either way, you jerk your hand free and examine it. Fortunately, whatever it was didn't break the skin. It occurs to you to find some way to lure the crab out.
  
  The pressure turns into an itch, which quickly becomes a burning heat.
  
  > Go west
  You splash merrily out of the shallow water, on to the hard packed sand.
  
  Damp Sand, South of Pier
  To the east, the shallow surf ebbs and flows up onto the cold, wet sand. The sand turns into powdery gold back to the west. To the north, you can pass among the pylons supporting the long pier that extends from the pavilion. The small castle you found here earlier has disappeared. The mites must have integrated its materials into the larger castle.
  You see a crowbar and a white rubber strap, lying in the sand.
  The white rubber strap dangles limply from the crowbar.
  
  > take the crowbar
  You take the white rubber strap and the crowbar.
  
  > 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 snowy white gull apparently materializes right in the middle of the flock, cranes its neck as if searching for someone, and then dematerializes.
  
  > Go 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 sieve, a loose brick, a length of rope, a strapless pair
  of goggles, an antique bottle, a cork, and a broken stave here.
  
  > drop the crowbar
  You toss the crowbar and the white rubber strap to the ground.
  
  > 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.
  You see a shrimp here.
  
  An old man is fishing off the pier with a great, heavy rod. Resting on the railing beside him is an open tackle box, while at his feet sit a bucket full of freshly caught fish and an empty burlap sack.
  
  The old man stares grimly at the sun, as if daring it to sink any lower.
  
  > take the shrimp
  Taken.
  
  The old man plays out a few lengths of line.
  
  > tie the rope to shrimp
  You try, but the coarse rope is too thick to be knotted around the shrimp.
  
  The old man's mind must have been wandering. He jerks suddenly back to attention, evidently the result of a tug on his line.
  
  > examine the line
  It looks like 40lb test.
  
  The old man pulls back hard on his rod, pulling the line taut.
  
  > ask the man about the line
  He shrugs his cast iron shoulders. "Not much to say about it, youngster."
  
  The old man reels in a whopper of a fish, which he tosses into the bucket by his feet.
  
  > ask the man for the line
  He twangs the active line to check for tautness. "Sorry youngster, can't spare any line today."
  
  The old man pulls a flask from his pocket and takes a hearty swig.
  
  > take the money
  You'd better just leave it in your pocket.
  
  The old man consults his bait box, and reties his line with a new lure.
  
  > buy the line from the man
  [TADS-1026: wrong number of arguments to user function "<NO SYMBOL TABLE>.<NO SYMBOL TABLE>"]
  
  > go 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.
  
  A young boy wearing a bright blue bathing suit and matching flip-flops runs by.
  
  It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the shade beneath the greater 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.
  You see a clam shell here.
  
  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 sieve, a loose brick, a strapless pair of goggles, an antique bottle, a cork, a broken stave, a crowbar, and a white rubber strap here.
  The white rubber strap dangles limply from the crowbar.
  
  A slight gust of wind sends eddies of sand swirling over the brick path.
  
  > drop the shrimp
  You toss the shrimp to the ground.
  
  A slight gust of wind sends eddies of sand swirling over the brick path.
  
  > check your inventory
  You have a pair of shorts (being worn), a bathing suit (being worn), a scuba mask (being worn), and a length of rope.
  The pocket of your shorts seems to contain some money and your passcard.
  
  > Go north
  You launch yourself north with a heart pumping butterfly stroke.
  
  Deep Water, Beneath Pier, (treading water)
  The long pier finally comes to an end, the last of its supporting pylons disappearing into the murky depths below. To the east lies nothing but endless ocean. The welcoming sands of the beach lie back to the west. Or you can strike off north or south, parallel to the shoreline.