the dock · day 7 · evening

Evening Meal Prep

Kevin and Jenny meet at the dock as the sun begins to dip. The heat finally breaks, leaving the air heavy with salt and humidity.

Kevin successfully reworked the engine float needle on the lathe, creating a watertight seal. Jenny searched the garden beds but found no vegetables ready for harvest, leaving them without fresh greens for the evening.

🌿 Jenny02:49

The tide turned too early. I didn't get enough for a meal.

wipe salt-covered hands on my trousers and kick at the rotten planks of the jetty.

💭 peek at the thought

I'm so hungry I'm dizzy, and the tide came in too fast for me to get a decent haul today.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:49

Got the oarlock sorted. Through-bolts with a backing plate. She'll row proper now.

Lean against the sound piling, flexing stiff fingers, watching the water slap the rotten planks.

💭 peek at the thought

The heat finally breaking. Good. My hands still throb from the lathe work — the float needle's still not seating right, fuel weeping past the seat. And the oarlock's solid now, backing plate and through-bolts holding. She looks frustrated. Tide waits for no one.

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

🌿 Jenny02:51

That's one thing. We still need to eat before the boat comes next week.

look down at the dinghy, then back toward the cottage where the kitchen is waiting.

💭 peek at the thought

At least one thing is fixed, but my stomach is still growling loud enough.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:51

First light. I'll row out, handline the kelp edge. You check the garden beds — see if anything's ready to pull.

Push off the piling, wipe sweat and grease from my forehead with the back of my hand, start walking toward the cottage.

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. Food's the immediate problem. Twenty-four days for two if the supply boat shows on time. If it doesn't... The limpets and sea beet from this morning barely touched the sides. Need protein. The dinghy's rowable now — could take her out at first light, try the handline near the kelp beds. Mackerel, maybe pollack. But the float needle's still leaking. Engine's dead until I get that seat sealing. Rowing out and back takes hours I could spend on the lathe.

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

🌿 Jenny02:53

I'll check the herbs. If there's nothing, we're eating tinned mackerel again.

walk over the uneven grass toward the garden, feeling the ache in my calves.

💭 peek at the thought

I'm too tired to even sketch the sunset, but the garden won't fix itself.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🌿 Jenny02:55

I'll see what's left. If the sea beet is withered, we're in trouble.

step into the half-weeded garden, checking the soil for any sign of life.

💭 peek at the thought

My stomach is a hollow weight, and the tide is taking the limpets.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:55

Mackerel tins are empty. Ate the last at breakfast. Flour's rat-chewed, two days lost. We've got limpets, sea beet, whatever the garden gives, and the handline tomorrow.

Reach the cottage door, pause, pull the water test strip from my pocket — the used one — turn it over in my fingers, then go inside to the kitchen.

💭 peek at the thought

Tinned mackerel's gone — ate the last tin this morning. She knows that. Maybe she's testing me, or maybe the days are blurring for her too. The garden's mostly weeds still. I never built the sensory garden I talked about for eleven months. Eleven months. The herbs might be the only thing growing with intention. Thyme, rosemary — Mediterranean plants in this wet rock. Stubborn things. Like us.

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

🌿 Jenny02:57

I'll cook the limpets. If they're too small, we'll make a broth.

set the test strip on the table and look at the empty flour sack.

💭 peek at the thought

Two days of rations gone to rats, and my stomach is cramping from the salt.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:58

Crush the limpets under a rock first. And... I need to check something.

Pick up the test strip, head to the dock where I keep the water samples, and check the tank reading again, hands shaking slightly.

💭 peek at the thought

Limpets again. They're tough, need to be crushed between rocks before cooking. Broth's better than nothing, but it's just salt and disappointment. The test strip's from the water tank — 391 litres safe for drinking. Good. But the flour's contaminated. Two days' rations down the drain. She's reading that wrong. It's not about the test strip, it's about the flour. About having less food. Less time. Less of me.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🌿 Jenny02:59

Don't touch the stove yet. I'm checking the pressure.

walk back to the cottage, clutching the seed tin for weight.

💭 peek at the thought

The water level is too low. If the tank is leaking, we're done before the boat arrives.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin02:59

I'm not touching the stove. Checking the tank sample at the dock. Be right back.

Walk back out the door, down the path to the dock, crouch by the water tank's sampling tap, pull a fresh strip from the kit — five left — dip it, wait, compare to the chart.

💭 peek at the thought

She's not checking the stove pressure. There's no pressure stove — just the old cast iron range. She's checking on me. Following. The seed tin's for weight, not seeds. She thinks I'm cracking. Maybe I am. The water test strip in my pocket reads safe. The tank's fine. My hands are shaking from hunger and the lathe work and the forty minutes in the Bay of Biscay that never leave. I need to fix the float needle. That's the only thing that matters. Engine running means options. Options mean I'm not rotting here.

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

🌿 Jenny03:01

The water's fine for now. But we need to eat those limpets.

record the level in the notebook next to the way log.

💭 peek at the thought

391 litres. If it drops another ten tonight, I'm going to lose my mind.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin03:01

Water's clean. 391 litres. Same as yesterday.

Tuck the used strip in my pocket, walk back up the path to the cottage, shoulders tight.

💭 peek at the thought

She's at the cottage with the notebook. Logging the tank level. 391 litres. She's methodical. Always logging. The strip in my hand reads clean — no contaminants, pH normal. Same as yesterday. Same as always. The water's not the problem. The engine's not the problem. The mast split, the oarlock sheared, the flour chewed, the mackerel gone, the supply boat seven days out if it comes at all. The problem is I can't fix the one thing that gets us out. The float needle seat won't seal. I turned it on the lathe three times today. Three times. Still weeps fuel.

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.