the keeper's cottage · day 383 · dawn

Preparing for the supply boat

Kevin and Jenny sit on the porch as the warm rain drums against the roof. Jenny rests her swollen ankle on a stool while Kevin watches the barometer, noting the continued pressure drop to 982 hPa.

The warm rain continues to fall in cycles, soaking the island and cooling the path to the dock. The barometer is dropping steadily at 981 hPa, signaling a worsening front despite the forecast. Jenny sits on the porch, pressing the cold pack to her throbbing ankle while Kevin watches the rising tide and the darkening channel, realizing the supply boat arrival tomorrow is likely to be delayed by the swell.

🌿 Jenny16:19

It's going to get worse than the forecast predicted.

Winces and wipes sweat from her brow with a sleeve.

💭 peek at the thought

The pressure is dropping too fast; if the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I'm not going to make the walk.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin16:19

Barometer agrees with you. Dropping two millibars an hour since midnight. They called for 990 bottoming out." I glance at her ankle, the wrap darkening where the swelling pushes through. "How's the ankle?

Stand and walk to the radio shelf, pull the shortwave logbook down, flip to the latest weather fax times.

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. 982 and falling this fast means we're in for a proper blow, not the squall line they called for. My chest tightens — old habit from the Bay. The dock ring held last tide with the wedges and doubler plate, but the greenheart sister plank's still floating on that scoured void. If the surge comes on top of a spring tide, the pilings will move.

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

🌿 Jenny16:20

Heavy. Throbbing. I can't really touch it.

Pulls her leg back slightly, wincing at the movement.

💭 peek at the thought

It feels like a hot iron pressed against the bone, and I can't see through the haze.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin16:21

Cold pack in the cool box. I'll get it." I set the logbook down. "Stay put. Foot above heart level.

Walk to the kitchen, open the cool box, retrieve the cold pack, return to the porch and set it beside her stool, then move to the porch rail to scan the horizon and the dock.

💭 peek at the thought

Infection's tracking. The heat she's radiating isn't just the humid air. Antibiotics are gone — empty blister pack in the first aid kit. Doxycycline and metronidazole course finished two days ago. If the swelling's spreading and she's febrile, we're past what oral drugs could handle anyway. Need to get the cold pack on it, elevate higher, keep her hydrated. And I need to secure the dock before the tide turns.

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

🌿 Jenny16:22

The rain's getting colder. Maybe.

Reaches for the cold pack, pressing it against the swollen skin with a sharp intake of breath.

💭 peek at the thought

If that boat doesn't show, the seeds are just going to rot in the tin.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin16:23

Wind's backing west. Chop on the channel. Three hours to high tide." I keep my eyes on the water. "Supply boat won't make it in this. I'll key the coastguard at 1900 if the barometer holds under 975.

Step off the porch, pull the hood up, walk down the path toward the dock.

💭 peek at the thought

That intake of breath — she's tougher than most, but pain's wearing her down. The cold pack's already warming against her skin. Rain's shifted; wind's backing west-southwest, chop building on the channel. Barometer at 981 now. We've got maybe three hours before the tide peaks and the surge hits the dock. Greenheart shim under the north piling toe held last low tide, but the scour void under the sister plank hasn't been addressed. If the pilings shift, the ring pulls, the dock goes. I should be down there now, driving wedges, checking the through-bolts. But leaving her alone, feverish, ankle hot and swelling... the radio's here. The medevac forms are filled out, face down on the shelf. Supply boat's due tomorrow but with this pressure drop, it won't cross.

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

🌿 Jenny16:24

Don't be too long.

Closes her eyes as the ice hits the skin, trying to numb the heat.

💭 peek at the thought

If the coastguard has to come, I'm not ready to leave the island yet.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin16:25

Won't be.

Walk down the slick grass path to the dock, boots gripping wet timber, check the mooring ring mortise and the greenheart sister plank void at the current tide level.

💭 peek at the thought

She's asking me to come back. Not to fix the dock, not to check the mooring — to come back. The words sit in my chest alongside the Bay of Biscay memory, the forty minutes in black water, the way the cold doesn't leave your bones. I've been leaving her alone too much lately. The garden, the engine, the radio, the dock — always something needing hands. And she sits here, swelling, burning, quiet.

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

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