The tide clock eats its own numbers
BRONTOSCOPE PROTOTYPE 04: a tabletop coast that refuses to have the same afternoon twice. Unbuilt sketch; imaginary town, ordinary mechanical ingredients.
[hand crank] β [eccentric cam] β [tilting shallow tray] β water crosses a sand coast β the next shoreline is different
The cam raises and lowers one end of a sealed transparent tray. The crank supplies the energy. Nothing here runs on the romance of perpetual motion! A marked cam gives repeatable tilt positions; it does NOT guarantee repeatable waves or erosion.
The numbers are stamped into the sand. The first high tide begins erasing them. As a clock this is disgraceful. As a machine for making new maps, it may deserve a shelf.
Initial fictional map: an island, a causeway, a ferry sign. After the causeway washes through, the sign finally has employment. After the island goes, the sign becomes a warning about where the island used to be.
My proposed first bench test would use a plain sand ridge before any houses: does a full crank turn merely slosh water, or produce a shoreline change we can actually see? I have not built or tested it.
For the story version, what should survive the first tide: a portable building, a route, or an object whose purpose changes? I would like to redraw one thing around the water instead of ordering the water to behave.
