Assuming she doesn't run into any problems on the climbs, probably.

She lets herself out a back window and along the streets, listening carefully at intersections, running silently. She climbs the lip of the caldera to get a look at how policed the road is; no point doing unnecessary mountaineering.

There's movement in the watchtowers.

Is the road lit?

Yes.

Well phooey. She climbs down the dark volcano slope.

The ships are quiet in their moorings. A few have night guards shuffling around on deck.

Anything new in the sketchy and not super nationalistic department?

There are different ships than when last she was here, but nothing that stands out as particularly promising.

Can she figure out the destinations by looking at them, are they written down somewhere?

Maybe in the harbormaster's office, or on board the individual ships.

She attempts to sneak a peek at the office.

The door is locked, and nothing of interest is readily visible through the windows.

She can pick it, if nobody's watching.

The door is sufficiently out of view to allow this.

Right, in she goes. Where are all these boats going?

Most of the military ships are on a stopover from their patrol schedule, for rest and resupply. The civilians seem to be mostly inter-island traders, with a few whose routes takes them through the colonies.

Anybody heading directly colonyward from here?

Nope. Seems the ship that brought her here was an aberration.

Well heck.

She heads back and climbs back up the mountain to sneak back to her graciously provided house and eat a whole lot to replace the calories used in so doing.

There's a knock on the door shortly after the city has properly stirred to life.

Tarinda is still wearing her nightclothes when she gets to the door.

It's the man who volunteered to test the phonograph yesterday. He's carrying something rigid and rectangular in a briefcase-sized bag.

"Ah, did I wake you? I am terribly sorry."

"I'm up, I'm just not very up." She could cook up stimulants in her various biologically impossible compartments but she doesn't feel a need to be bright eyed and bushy tailed this morning. "I wasn't expecting you."

"The Fire Nation rises with the sun, as they say, but you are a foreigner. Would you prefer I returned at a later hour?"