Chapter 307 - 135: Birthday
As the year-end approaches, the sea life available for picking while crabbing has changed.
When the tide recedes, occasionally, one can spot a gigantic lobster on the rock beach, with a body length of over forty centimeters.
Unfortunately, these rare finds have all died at the sea bottom and are pushed ashore by the tide.
Most of the time, Chen Zhou eagerly goes forward, only to find an empty shell, cleaned out by small marine creatures.
However, by locating the lobster corpses, one can infer the specific areas in the ocean where lobsters reside—
About 200 to 400 meters from the beach, if the sea is calm and the weather is clear, with the right boat, he could potentially go out to catch lobsters.
Still, risking it just for a bite, even if the risk is small, Chen Zhou thinks it's not worth it.
...
Eating lobster is a matter of fate, relying on whether the tide is willing to be a "deliveryman" bringing it to his door.
Chen Zhou does not like relying on luck. Compared to elusive luck, he prefers to work hard, think meticulously, and solve problems with his hands.
A row of crab traps along the shore is the fruit of his labor.
In addition, there are "octopus little pots" that are over ten meters long. These ceramic pots have a small opening and a big belly and are a favorite shelter for octopuses, which eagerly enter the pots once they are thrown into the sea.
Every two or three days, Chen Zhou comes to the seaside and pulls up the ropes threaded through the pots, collecting a full bucket of octopuses.
But due to the size limitation of the pots, these octopuses aren't very big, about the size of the street snack "octopus balls."
With chili and garlic now available, Chen Zhou often cleans the octopuses, peels them, cuts them into small pieces, and stir-fries them.
When removing the octopus ink sacs, he once had a sudden inspiration to try using octopus ink as paint, but naturally, it was a failure.
The composition of octopus ink seems entirely different from commonly used ink. Although it appears very black, when applied to paper with a pen, the color becomes very faint—during the attempt, Chen Zhou dared not use his expensive fountain pen and opted for a quill instead.
Had it only been the light color, it might be tolerable, but octopus ink has two other drawbacks when used for writing.
The first point is its strong smell, a fishy stench that seriously impacts one's mood during use. Especially while painting, inhaling this odor destroys any pleasant imagery imagined in the mind.
The second point is even more fatal—the traces left by octopus ink have an extremely short preservation time, fading and disappearing soon after.
A pigment that cannot be preserved is undoubtedly unqualified, so Chen Zhou quickly gave up on his bold idea of using octopus ink.
...
Eating too much seafood can become cloying, and Chen Zhou is a bit concerned that eating a lot of seafood every day might lead to early-onset gout.
There's no pain reliever on the island. If he were to develop gout in his thirties, he'd suffer for the next twenty years.
Although he was raised inland, he is not completely ignorant about gout.
Especially some of his older relatives in their fifties and sixties, who indulge in alcohol over social gatherings, suffer miserably once they develop gout, struggling to walk and having to restrict diet, no longer able to enjoy alcohol or rich foods—it's a pitiful sight.
Gout is hard to manage even in modern society, so being on an island makes him even more apprehensive, always watching his seafood consumption.
In fact, his worries might be somewhat excessive.
The high-risk group for gout typically includes those over fifty who indulge in rich foods and are sedentary, obese elderly individuals.
Given his current level of activity, unless he has a genetic issue or a reduced ability to metabolize purines, it's unlikely he would develop gout.
However, Chen Zhou does not realize this and continues to restrain himself from overindulgence in seafood and alcohol, not even daring to eat lamb excessively.
For him, maintaining this self-control might be a habit contributing to his mental health.
When alone, free from societal judgment, it's a rare trait to self-regulate and not indulge in excess.
...
On July 30th and 31st, Chen Zhou did very little work. He either went to Pigeon Cave to catch pigeons or went fishing by the small lake.
Ever since discovering Pigeon Cave, he had been eager to try sea urchin steamed eggs.
Alas, the pigeons residing in the lower parts of the cave were few and did not lay eggs. Despite visiting Pigeon Cave a dozen times, he couldn't find any pigeon eggs.
Frustrated, he built a ladder and moved it into Pigeon Cave to explore the higher spots.
Sure enough, the nests where young pigeons were raised were positioned midway up. With a ladder, he could finally gather pigeon eggs.
And with the numerous pigeons in Pigeon Cave, each visit yielded him dozens of pigeon eggs.
Some of these he consumed, but the sea urchin steamed eggs he had envisioned for half a year turned out to be mediocre on tasting.
Not nearly as exquisite a delicacy as he imagined.
He placed another portion in a foam box on the stove, attempting to incubate a few squabs using the heat from the stove, so he could eventually have them lay eggs at home.
However, Chen Zhou's busy schedule caused him to forget to add fuel to the fire, resulting in inconsistent temperatures. The poor ventilation of the foam box further contributed to the lack of humidity, and not a single egg hatched.
Subsequently, he attempted other methods, like directly capturing adult pigeons or fledglings for raising back home.
But without sincere dedication and care, such endeavors are bound to fail.
His half-hearted breeding efforts were merely a disturbance to the wild pigeons.