Just after lunch, Kathy wanted to go back to Leverick to buy a couple of things she had seen in the gift shop. We drove through the four cattle gates (they had pretty much become second nature by now) and over the hill. The lady at the gift shop was very nice, but Kathy wanted to be absolutely sure of her purchases. We examined every item in the shop at least three times each, reading the tags carefully, and asking lots of questions about everything. Did I mention the gift shop was air-conditioned? After a couple hours, the lady made us leave because we were scaring away the other customers, standing in front of the A/C with our shirts pulled up.

Back at the Pink House, we decided it would be cooler down by the water. We grabbed one of the fishing rods (the one that actually worked) and some frozen shrimp and headed down the hill. I cast in the same general direction that Kathy had caught her Sea Bream, and within a few seconds, I had hooked a whopper. Well, there's photographic evidence so I might was well be honest and say it was a tiny thing -- an orange Squirrelfish with big black eyes and a spiny dorsal fin. But it was my first fish. Later on, I caught an even smaller specimen, another Sea Bream. We moved to an area where there was no fish to bother us, cast out the line, and sat on a big rock for the remainder of the day until the hot sun retreated behind Gorda Peak.

That night, sleep was difficult for both of us. The master bedroom of the Pink House is normally the coolest room in the house, with windows on three sides, including a big one facing southeast. With no trade winds, however, the ceiling fan was the only way to move the air around, which at least turned cooler around midnight. For the first time, we could hear sounds and noises outside that the wind normally drowned out. The sea was calm, but we could still hear the breakers rolling in on the reef. Occasionally, a long swell would break on one end of the reef and then slowly make its way to the other end, creating a strange, echoing sound that resembled a car driving on a rocky dirt road. Kathy got up a couple times to check to see if we had midnight visitors. I also got up once and went to the bathroom window, but the moon hadn't come up yet and the night was black as soot. I went downstairs and turned on the motion-detecting floodlights, but of course there was no one there.

Kathy also got up once because she thought we had set fire to the Pink House. What little breeze there was had shifted around and was coming out of the West for the first time. There's a trash dump on the far side of the island that is constantly burning, and she had smelled the faint smoky odor. At first, she thought it was me and that I had gotten smoke on my clothes while barbequing that night. I'd never been told I smelled like a trash dump before, so I lost some more sleep over that. After lying there for a while, Kathy realized it couldn't possibly be my clothes she smelled because, well it just couldn't have been, okay? She decided instead that I had somehow dropped hot coals onto the deck, so she stayed awake a while longer worrying whether our little damage deposit would cover burning down the whole damn Pink house. We were both awake at 5:45am when the sun came up again, and we hoped our friends the trade winds would return with it.