the dock · day 310 · afternoon

Lunch at the Dock

You both arrive at the dock after lunch. The tide is high, the dock bench is wet, and you sit together on the bench to eat the limpets and sea beet you each brought.

Kevin and Jenny used the dinghy and the receding tide to inspect the structural integrity of the dock. Kevin checked the Yanmar's prop shaft and fuel line while Jenny examined the rot on the south support piling from the water's edge.

🔧 Kevin16:57

Tide’s high enough to float a dinghy off the blocks. We could take her out — just to float, not go anywhere. See how she handles with the Yanmar warm.

I peel another limpet, hand the shell to Jenny, and nod toward the dinghy bobbing at its mooring.

💭 peek at the thought

The bench is wet and cold through my trousers, but Jenny’s shoulder is warm against mine. We’re quiet, not because there’s nothing to say, but because the silence here doesn’t need filling. The limpets are briny, the sea beet earthy — simple food, but it tastes like today. I watch the water lap at the pilings, rotting where the sister didn’t reach. I should’ve gone deeper. Should’ve known. But I didn’t. And now the tide’s high, and the boat’s due in four days. I keep thinking about Tom’s letter. Not what’s in it — I haven’t opened it — but that it’s still there. Waiting. Like me.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny16:59

The engine's ready, but I want to check the fuel line first before we pushes off.

Jenny wipes salt juice from her hands on her trousers, looks at the dinghy, and begins a quick sketch of the mooring line tension in her notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

If we go out, I can check the south piling from the water without having to balance on the rot-heavy wood.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:01

Fuel line’s on the list. Spare’s in the crate if the tape holds. If not — we row.

I finish the last limpet, wipe my hands on my thighs, and stand, offering a hand down to her.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s right. The fuel line’s the weak link — old rubber, salt-cracked, held together with tape and hope. I should’ve replaced it when I had the crate open. Didn’t think of it. She did. She sees what I miss when I’m too close to the metal. Her sketching the mooring line… she’s not just drawing. She’s learning the loads. Smart.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny17:01

I'll grab the spare and the roll of electrical tape just in case.

Jenny takes his hand to stand up, tucks her notebook into her waist, and moves toward the dinghy.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always so quick with the backup, like failure is the only outcome.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:02

I’ll check the prop shaft collar while you’re at it. Make sure the set screw didn’t back out.

I step onto the dinghy’s gunwale, crouch at the transom, and run my fingers over the bronze sleeve where the prop shaft exits the hull, feeling for play, for heat, for the faintest weep of water.

💭 peek at the thought

She moves like she belongs on a boat — sure-footed, quiet, already thinking three steps ahead. My hand remembers the weight of hers, calloused and warm. She doesn’t need me to lead. Just to follow when she does.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny17:03

Watch the collar for vibration once it catches up.

Jenny enters the dinghy carefully, shifting her weight to the center, and reaches into the crate for the spare fuel line and the tape.

💭 peek at the thought

He's focused on the metal, but I'm looking at the wood beneath our feet.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:04

Collar’s solid. Mount’s the question.

I straighten, brace a hand on the mast step, and look at her — really look — waiting for her to finish in the crate.

💭 peek at the thought

She knows the engine’s voice better than she lets on. "Once it catches up" — she’s heard the hunt at idle, the way it surges before it settles. She’s been listening. The collar’s tight, no weep, no play. Set screw’s seated. Good. But the vibration she means isn’t in the shaft. It’s in the mount. The hull bracket. The one I through-bolted crooked because the tide was coming and I rushed. I knew it then. I know it now.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny17:05

If the mount holds, we can see the rot better from the water. ownDO: Jenny pulls the fuel line out, checks it for kinks with her thumb, and looks up at the tide.

💭 peek at the thought

He's worried about the mount, but I'm worried about how much weight the dock is taking.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin17:06

Fuel line’s good. No kinks, no cracks. Tape’s just in case.

I step back into the dinghy, take the oarlocks, and push off gently — just enough to clear the pilings, then let the tide carry us sideways along the dock’s length.

💭 peek at the thought

She’s right — from the water, we’ll see the pilings true. The rot’s not just surface; it’s in the core, eating upward from the mudline. I saw it when I cleared the oysters off the south face — black streaks like ink in the grain. But seeing it from the dock is guesswork. From the dinghy, we’ll know how deep it goes. And if we’re going to sister anything, we need to know what’s sound.

nvidia/nemotron-3-super-120b-a12b

🌿 Jenny17:09

Look at that south piling.

Jenny kneels on the edge of the dinghy, leaning over the water to inspect the dark decay where the timber meets the sea.

💭 peek at the thought

The water is clear today; I can see exactly how much the wood has surrendered.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.