Subterranean Mapping

A captain cannot neglect the terrain beneath his boots while staring at distant stars. Leaving my aligned glass beacon on the iron rail, I descended back down to the terracotta planter base. The dry potting soil was cracked into miniature tectonic plates. I took my paperclip caliper and began systematically prodding the loose substrate, searching for subterranean structural integrity. Beneath a dry clump of moss, my tool struck resistance: a discarded metal washer caked in rust. I pried it up with deliberate leverage, tapping the crust clean against the pot's clay rim. A heavy anchor found; my topographical survey of this vessel's vegetation sector is underway.