Third Campaign Challenge

Ok here is the third challenge of Rachael Harrie's Campaign over at Rach Writes.  


Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:

• that it’s morning, 

• that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach

• that the MC (main character) is bored

• that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting

• that something surprising happens.

Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise."   (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).


Here is my entry hope you like it:


Antarctic Morning


The first rays of pink streak the sky and bleed into the sea.  I bend down to test the frigid water with the Synbatec scope.  The little red needle on the instrument panel pegs the 1000ml mark.  Too much Tacise acid, I think.  That's not good for the Antarctic Krill population and whatever affects the krill affects the penguins.  What can I do though?  I'm supposed to be helping here, but there's nothing to do until the mountains of pack ice that hold the sea hostage break up. Our boats can't navigate the 10 miles to the penguin rookery on Torgersen Island.  
 An eerie sound emanates from the depths of the mile thick blue ice.  It creaks and moans like a living being.  I sit back in frustration on the cold little bucket I use as a stool.  An icy breeze whips at my face forming tiny frozen crystals on my eyelashes, but gazing at this landscape of magnificent desolation somehow warms my soul.    
Dr. Martin catches my attention and motions for me to join him farther down the beach.  He crouches in front of a Brown Skua nest.  The pungent smell of fresh guano fills my nostrils and I almost gag.  Inside the nest a fluffy squawking chick awaits the return of his parents.  I gently lift the chick so Dr. Martin can fasten a radio tag his wing.  There are still tiny bits of wastopaneer, from the egg, stuck to his feathers.  I try to pick them off but something slams hard into my back.  I stumble from the impact.  The mother has returned. She dives at me again.  I see her coming and return the baby bird to his nest. She aborts the attack but voices her displeasure by spraying her stomach contents in my face.  


Kathy


I'm Entry # 22.  If you like it please vote for me here!  Thanks :)
The campaign has been a blast!  I have enjoyed every challenge and I love reading the other entries.  You can enter until Oct 24th.  So hop on over to her site and sign up!