The wind in the chimney of the small house has not abated, sometimes rumbling in the chimney, sometimes howling in the stovepipe. The wind outside is hurrying past the house, all the grasses and gorse bushes bending under this pressure. The bay outside is survaced in greay and the hills on the other side have vanished in the clouds. The brother has most probably left the house early, to meet with his fisherman friend and also to deal with the faulty boat.
Upon checking, learn that he had been out early to check on the condition of the boat, and that at some point in the dead of night he had succeeded in transmitting some of his data to the visa authorities so that they could process his application.
The wind outside is steady and the sky is grey, the island is stretched across the bay seeming to divide the sky from the waters with a dark green stripe.
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