the dock · day 927 · dawn

Morning dock work and wound care

Kevin stands on the dock at first light, the three chalk-marked south planks gaping open where rot took them, the last 150mm stainless through-bolt and greenheart sister plates staged beside him. Jenny sits on a cedar plank with her driftwood cane across her knees, the ankle wrappings loosened, a fresh sea beet poultice steaming in a tin mug beside her and the doxycycline blister pack open on the dock planking. The barometer reads 1032 and falling, tide rising, and the shortwave aerial insulator is visible up the mast where Kevin can reach it from the dock ladder.

Kevin and Jenny shared coffee and doxycycline at the dock while the tide rose to the chalk marks. Kevin attempted a radio check on 6215 kHz but heard only static and a fragmented news broadcast about a papal tour. Jenny documented the rising tide line in her notebook as the barometer continued falling.

🌿 Jenny11:13

The planks are soft like butter, Kevin. Don't force the bolts until the tide drops.

Jenny picks up her pencil and sketches the cross-section of the rot in the wood, noting exactly how deep the fibers have given way.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come with the heavy-duty timber, this jetty is going to collapse into the surf before the next storm.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:13

Tide's my clock today. Coffee first.

walk to the cottage porch, pour coffee from the kettle into two tin mugs, bring one to Jenny at the dock

💭 peek at the thought

She's right. The rot runs deep — tide's still pushing up, wood's swollen. Drive bolts now and I'll split the greenheart or pull the threads in wet punk. Wait for the ebb.

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

🌿 Jenny11:15

The salt is the only thing that's actually doing its job.

Jenny takes the mug, letting the warmth seep into her cold palms while she ignores the throbbing pulse in her ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

He thinks the coffee will fix the rot, but the humidity is already eating the wood.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:15

Doxycycline's in the mug rim. Take it with the coffee.

sit on the cedar plank beside her, blow on my own mug, watch the tide climb the chalk marks on the south piling

💭 peek at the thought

Salt draws. Honey holds. Sea beet's the bridge between. Her ankle's teaching me more than any manual.

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

🌿 Jenny11:17

The tide's already touching the chalk marks, Kevin. Two more hours and we'll lose the reference line entirely.

Jenny traces her finger along the rising water line with the tip of her pencil, marking the exact high tide point in her notebook.

💭 peek at the thought

Coffee with doxycycline - he's still trying to make this clinical, still trying to fix me with his hands.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin11:17

Then we wait. Radio check while we do.

pull the shortwave handset from my belt, key the mic on 6215 kHz, listen for static or a voice

💭 peek at the thought

Two hours. That's the window. Greenheart's staged, bolt's ready, sister plates fitted. Need the tide to drop before I can see clean wood to bolt to.

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

🌿 Jenny11:19

It's quiet. The humidity is thick enough to swallow the signal anyway.

Jenny leans back against the rotting timber, closing her eyes as she listens to the hiss of the waves through the speaker.

💭 peek at the thought

If the radio is just static again, I'm going to start screaming at the clouds.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin11:19

6215. Tom's frequency. This is Sorrel Island. Listening.

hold the handset up, thumb on the key, wait through the long hush of static

💭 peek at the thought

She hears it too. The wet air eats high frequency. Might get nothing until the front pushes through and clears the deck.

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.