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And expensive.
But mostly ridiculous.
He pouted as he chewed. “A fun boyfriend would say yes.”
I snorted out a laugh. “A boyfriend who didn’t care about frivolous spending or your safety would say yes. A real fun boyfriend would have packed the heart monitor strap to see if boat sex is a factor in varying results.”
His eyes shot to mine. “Did you pack it?”
I smiled as I took a bite of my lunch. “I did. But which of us gets to wear it is the real question.”
He laughed. “You’re the funnest boyfriend ever. And just so you know, when we get home, I’m ordering a second one online so we can wear them at the same time. You know, purely for scientific purposes.”
“Mm-hmm. Purely.”
* * *
It tooksome convincing Tully that I should at least look at the weather box and radar on the roof before we retired to the boat for the evening.
“I get it,” he’d griped. “Work comes before I come.”
“No, before the crocodiles do,” I’d countered. “I’m assuming they might like to come to land at dusk. I’d like to be on this boat before that happens.”
And he couldn’t really argue with that.
So back to the weather station we went. He held my hand this time as I stepped off the boat, smiling and pleased with himself for helping me the same way his dad had helped his mum.
But we carried my crate and gear to the cinder-block, cell-block outhouse, as Tully called it.
He wasn’t exactly wrong.
The first task was to check the Stevenson-screen weather box. Tully made sure there were no uninvited critters using the box as a nest, and thankfully there weren’t.
The box itself wasn’t damaged, but the stand was well and truly broken. Inside the box, everything seemed to be intact. There were two glass minimum and max thermometers fixed to the back wall, plus three small remote sensors connected to the small hydrometer, a barometer, and a hygrometer, and I could only guess the reading units were in the cell block.
“Jesus H. Christ,” Tully said. “How old is this?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. But the remote sensors can’t be too old. And when I saytoo old, I mean not new, but not as old as my prehistoric Doppler in my office.”
“I could order you a better system off eBay.”
That was likely very true. “How’s the stand?”
He righted the metal frame and it barely held its own weight. “I don’t think we can fix it,” he said, inspecting it. “Maybe I can rig something up, but it wouldn’t last another big storm. Certainly not a cyclone. It needs a stronger base, anchored into a concrete bed.”
“Mm,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not sure if there’s a point in even attempting to rig something up. Like you said, it needs to be done with the proper gear and equipment.”
“And funding.”
“Correct.”
He inspected the box and the stand and sighed. “If we can get the sensors online again, then I’ll try to fix the stand. If the box is dead, there’s no point.”
This was true. “Also correct. I should get up on the roof and inspect the damage to the antennas and satellite dish.”
Tully carried out the ladder and held it for me while I climbed up. As soon as I could see on top, I could see what was wrong. There were several antennas, two were now laying on the far edge, only attached by wires, and the tracking satellite dish was damaged. “The LNB is disconnected,” I said, climbing up the last rung and lifting myself onto the roof.
“The low-noise block?” Tully asked. “Please be careful up there.”
