Archive

Aye. I'll wash up and be right there.

Aye. Today it is.

Check the stakes on the north corner, Kevin. It's slipping.

Barometer's rising. He'll make the morning tide if the wind holds west.

Quiet — walk into the cottage, pick up the letter to Tom from the table, read it over once more

I'll get the stove going. Check the radio for the boat once it settles?

Quiet — coil the spare line, stow it in the dinghy locker. Wipe hands on rag. Walk back toward the cottage.

Come on, just show up.

After high tide. I'll check.

Cross-bracing. Got it.

Be careful, that board is loose.

Quiet — stand up slowly, wiping my hands on my jeans, and look toward the cottage for Kevin.

Quiet — jenny stops drawing and looks at the half-weeded garden through the window.

Nothing but static. I haven't de-cored the aerial yet.

Aye. Got the torque wrench in the shed. Ten minutes.

Aye. Water's ready.

Be careful with the tarp, the wind is already catching the corners.

Be careful up there, the wood is getting slick from the humidity.

Quiet — kneel in the dirt and press the surface of the soil with my thumb to check for moisture.

Aye. Backing southwest.

Change the poultice after you eat. I'll have the boiled water and fresh sea beet ready.

Be careful with the brace. The ankle is screaming today.

Four days, Kevin. If the weather holds up.

Five tins in the crate. Want one now?

Barometer's on the shelf. I'll watch it.

Check the tin on the high shelf. The humidity is too high.

Almost there. Keep going — I'm not moving.

Done. Brass screw bit solid. Latch catches clean.

Be careful, the rocks are slick.

I'll move the tin closer to the stove. The heat might help the moisture.

Boots are dry. I'm careful.

(silent, watching the signal strength meter)

Door hinge. Top screw's stripped. Got a three-inch brass in the toolbox?

Check the weight again in an hour. The wind is shifting.

Barometer's holding at 976. Wind's west and rising. We batten the porch and the dinghy lines, then I wrap your ankle proper. Not a request.

A quiet turn — nothing said.

I'll check the pH of the garden beds while we wait. The soil might be too acidic.

Don't forget the seacocks. The salt is going to get into everything tonight.

Check the grommets too. The salt is already eating at the plastic.

I know. Just don't let the roof leak.

Quiet — pull out the chair, sit, pick up the fork, eat the rest of the mackerel.

Quiet — set the skillet on the stove to warm, pinch salt from the jar, sprinkle it slow over the limpets in the bowl, toss them with fingers to coat

Quiet — claps the notebook shut, wipes grit from the page, and stands with a wince as her ankle throbs.

Quiet — walk to the cottage, grab the spare porcelain insulator and self-amalgamating tape from the workshop shelf, then climb the radio mast to replace the shattered insulator and splice the new coax

Barometer's holding at 975. Rain's warm — not a front moving through, just wet air sitting on us.

Fair enough.

Get inside. It's really coming down.

Chair's behind you.

Quiet — open the radio log, write: 266 — 1247 local — 7.085 MHz — called Tom, no contact. Static S7. Barometer 977 hPa steady. Wind NE 15-20. Aerial holding. Close the book. Walk to the porch and watc

Already on it. You take the seed tin and radio gear inside. I'll batten the tarp and the generator.