The retired hydrologist helped interpret the old map from a safe location.
And the former engineer monitored the developing water conditions with the emergency coordinator.
The work began shortly before noon.
At first, the gate resisted.
The ancient timber was swollen from years of moisture.
The iron wheel was stiff.
And cold water rushed against the lower boards.
The young farmer worked carefully.
The mechanism finally moved.
A narrow stream entered the lower channel.
Then widened.
The water spread across the designated storage area, including part of the unharvested cranberry bed.
Within minutes, the vines began disappearing beneath the rising surface.
Ripe cranberries loosened and floated upward.
The young woman watched the first red clusters move toward the drainage channel.
For a moment, her chest tightened.
She knew she was losing part of the harvest.
But the nearby road had been cleared.
The lowest homes were being warned.
And the lower basin was beginning to receive water.
Then a pickup truck appeared along the embankment.
The largest neighboring grower had arrived.
Two other men followed him.
And when they saw the red berries floating across the water, they began laughing.
The largest farmer climbed from his truck wearing his blue plaid shirt and gray cap.
He looked toward the young woman.
Then toward the partially flooded cranberry bed.
For a moment, he seemed genuinely surprised.
Then his mouth opened into a broad grin.
"Well, would you look at that!"
The man in the olive-green shirt climbed down beside him.
He followed the older farmer's gaze.
Then began laughing.
The third man remained near the truck.
His expression was uncertain.
He looked toward the northern woods before turning toward the floodgate.
The largest farmer stepped onto the grassy bank.
"You've finally done it, girl!"
The young woman continued monitoring the gate.
She didn't respond.
The man pointed toward the floating cranberries.
"All that work, and you're washing the crop into the ditch!"
The farmer in green laughed harder.
He seemed delighted.
For months, he'd listened while the larger grower predicted that the young woman would fail.
Now the berries were floating in a broad red sheet, moving away from the orderly vines where they'd grown.
To him, it looked like proof.
He pointed toward the water.