Mossy Lantern Harbor
Pip
“A fluffy gull chick, 12 cm tall, with gray-white down, a yellow beak, and one slightly crooked foot.”
He is a tiny gull chick, about as big as a teacup, who hops everywhere with bold curiosity and a noisy opinions-about-everything attitude. He longs to be taken seriously, even though he often rushes ahead before he has listened all the way through.
5 stories feature Pip
Where you've met them
Logs in the Channel
The tide has shifted a line of heavy driftwood into the narrow channel where small boats pass, and each wave pushes the logs tighter together. Unless something changes soon, the harbor’s smaller boats will not be able to reach the open water.
Too Shallow to Rescue
At low tide, the harbor mouth becomes too shallow for the largest rescue boat to pass, but a person has just gone missing on the far side of the bay. The smaller boats can move, yet none of them are strong enough to reach the trouble alone.
The Fog That Ate the Docks
A sudden run of fog rolls in from the sea and swallows the harbor so completely that even the bell tower cannot see the docks. With cargo boats, fishing skiffs, and ferries all needing to move before nightfall, the harbor must find a way to keep everyone apart and safe in the thick white hush.
High Tide, High Trouble
A spring tide pushes seaweed, shells, and driftwood high into the harbor streets, blocking the ramps, slicking the steps, and pinning small boats against the quay. The rising water is still climbing, so the harbor needs a fast plan to clear paths and move anything valuable before the tide turns the whole place into a jumble of floating clutter.
Night Without Lantern Oil
The old lantern fuel cellar under the harbor runs empty on the very evening the longest night begins, and without those lights the shoreline path becomes too dark for the last ferry to navigate. Everyone must find a safe way to keep the harbor bright until morning, while the darkness and waves make every choice feel urgent.