Day 101

Dolphins, Diesel, and a Coming Gale

Dawn found Kevin and Jenny on the dock as an onshore breeze stirred. Kevin tightened the dinghy's lines, noting the aft cleat holding but the ring in the mortise shifting. "Might need a wedge before the next swell," he said. Jenny, checking the radio mast's coax entry, replied, "Use a shim of that way scrap. I'll check the mast first." Kevin fetched a cedar shim and secured the ring. "Ring's tight. Mast check out?" "It's clear. I'll finish the insulation after breakfast."

Kevin took the dinghy past the headland at slack tide for a Yanmar sea trial, testing the new float needle under load. "Lee side. Watch the tide turn," Jenny had warned. A pod of dolphins passed close off the point during the run. The engine held steady at two thousand RPM for fifteen minutes, tell-tale flowing clean, no blue smoke.

Midday brought Jenny back to the cottage to finish the radio mast insulation — continuity check clean, seal solid, insulation now complete — and sketch the unnamed saxifrage on the north ridge, noting its glandular leaf hairs and distinct seed capsule. Her hand shook slightly from the heat. She also dried heirloom seeds near the stove and checked trays under the kitchen window.

Evening saw the south-east wind rise, driving salt spray as the tide climbed. They secured gear, sweated down limpets and sea beet — "Don't burn it. We need the nutrients for the ridge tomorrow" — and monitored the barometer. Rain arrived. Kevin brought the dinghy in before the chop built. The supply boat was due in three days. Jenny whispered to herself, "way one seed, Jenny. Just one for now." Kevin woke her at five for the radio report, the barometer still holding.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The Morning Inspection

Kevin and Jenny stand on the dock as the light onshore breeze picks up. Kevin checks the tension on the dinghy's lines while Jenny examines the epoxy seal on the radio mast's coax entry.

Kevin secures the loose mooring ring on the dock using a cedar shim to stop it from shifting under load. Jenny completes the insulation on the radio mast and performs a continuity check to ensure the seal is effective.

🔧 Kevin11:49

Continuity check clean?

tug the dinghy's bow line, testing the cleat's hold, then step back to scan the water past the headland for wind lines

💭 thought

She's thorough. That's good. The coax seal held through the last blow but humidity's the real enemy here — works its way into hairline fractures you can't see. I should've checked it myself last week instead of assuming the epoxy held.

🌿 Jenny11:49

Seal is solid. I'll run the test now.

Jenny wipes a smudge of epoxy from her palm on her jeans and turns toward the radio mast, pulling the own from her pocket.

💭 thought

If the epoxy holds against the salt, I can finally finish the survey without the radio screaming with ghost signals.

🔧 Kevin11:50

Aft cleat's holding. Ring in the mortise still shifts — might need a wedge before the next swell.

walk to the aft cleat, crouch to inspect the mooring ring where it sits in the timber, probe the gap with a fingertip

💭 thought

She's got the multimeter. Good. That mast has been the only reliable voice off this rock for eleven months — if the coax fails, we're blind until the supply boat. Should verify the dinghy's mooring while she works. The aft cleat's sound but the ring in its mortise shifts under load; noticed it last week when the swell pushed through.

🌿 Jenny11:51

Use a shim of that way scrap. I'll check the mast first.

Jenny climbs the ladder of the radio mast, reaching the coax entry to press the multimeter leads against the wiring.

💭 thought

He's always looking at the wood while the plants are dying under his feet.

🔧 Kevin11:52

Got the cedar scrap. Be down in a tick.

fetch the cedar shim from the stack by the cottage door, trim it to fit with the knife, then drive it snug into the mortise beside the ring with the palm of my hand

💭 thought

She's up there. Good. That scrap cedar off the dock repair — dense, won't swell — should take the play in the mortise. If the ring stops shifting, the mooring holds steady. Mast continuity first; if that's good, we can focus on the dinghy.

🌿 Jenny11:53

Make it tight. I'm getting a solid reading here.

Jenny stares at the multimeter display, squinting at the numbers as she holds the probes steady against the epoxy-sealed wiring.

💭 thought

If that ring doesn't hold, the dinghy goes adrift when the next tide comes in.

🔧 Kevin11:54

Ring's tight. Mast check out?

stand, brush dust from knees, glance up the mast at her then back toward the headland where the water darkens with the breeze

💭 thought

Solid reading. That's the mast sorted then — coax continuity holds, the epoxy patch at the entry is doing its job. One less thing to carry. The shim seats clean; ring's locked now, no play. Dinghy's moored proper. Can turn attention to the engine test and the fish run.

🌿 Jenny11:55

It's clear. I'll finish the insulation after breakfast.

Jenny climbs down the ladder, her legs heavy from the climb, and sets the own on the dock planks.

💭 thought

Continuity is good. The radio might actually work when the boat comes.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · morning

Preparing for the day

Kevin and Jenny meet at the cottage as the sun rises higher. The breeze remains steady.

No narrator was available, so nothing about this stretch was recorded.

🔧 Kevin11:56

Taking the dinghy out past the headland at slack. Engine and sail both. Back by midday if she holds.

walk to the dock and untie the bow line, coiling it neat

💭 thought

Morning's gone smooth so far. Dock's holding. Radio's sealed. Now the real test — take her out past the headland and see if the Yanmar keeps its nerve under load. Jenny's up. She'll want to know the plan.

🌿 Jenny11:57

Watch the swell. It's shifting north.

Pick up the heirloom seed tin from the table and trace the rust in the lid with a thumb.

💭 thought

He's leaving me here with the weeds and the silence again. My stomach is too tight to think about breakfast.

🔧 Kevin11:58

Lee side. Watch the tide turn.

step into the dinghy, check the fuel line connection at the tank, then engage the throttle and ease away from the dock

💭 thought

She's reading the water better than the barometer. North swell means the channel'll chop up sooner. Good catch. I'll hug the lee of the headland on the way out.

🌿 Jenny11:59

Be careful.

Walk to the porch and watch the dinghy disappear into the blue.

💭 thought

Another day of the wind and the salt. I need to get that sketch done before the light fails.

🔧 Kevin12:00

(nothing, focus on the helm)

keep the dinghy on a close reach past the headland, feathering the sail to feel the load on the rudder and helm, listening for any knock or hesitation in the Yanmar as the sea builds under the bow

💭 thought

She's quiet but present. That's enough. The engine's warm, the sail's drawing — now see if it holds past the point where the wind funnels.

🌿 Jenny12:01

Jenny — sit at the kitchen table and open the notebook to a blank page.

💭 thought

The wind is picking up. If he doesn't come back by noon, I'll be on the radio.

🔧 Kevin12:02

Kevin — push the throttle to full, hold the helm steady into the chop, and run the Yanmar at wide open for fifteen minutes straight, watching the temp gauge and listening for the knock

flagged: repeated_opener

💭 thought

Engine's clean at half throttle. No smoke, no miss. Wind's freshening round the point — swell pushing two metres, confused where the current meets it. Time to open her up and see what she's got.

🌿 Jenny12:03

Jenny — stand up and walk to the window, pressing my forehead against the glass.

flagged: repeated_opener

💭 thought

The engine is screaming too high for this chop. He's going to strain something.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

Kevin secured the dinghy at the dock and began prepping the Yanmar for a sea trial, while Jenny finished the radio mast insulation and sketched the saxifrage at the cottage.

🌿 Jenny12:07

(to myself) It's going to rain before the way.

Sit on the porch steps, open the notebook, and stare at the thickening clouds.

💭 thought

The sky is getting heavy and my stomach is a knot of hunger. I haven't even started the muchifrage sketch.

🔧 Kevin12:07

Aye. Smell it in the air too.

Walk to the rain tank, tap the side to gauge level, then head inside to check the generator oil and secure the shortwave aerial lead against the porch rail.

💭 thought

She's reading the sky better than the barometer. Cloud's dropping fast for midday — that flat grey turning bruised at the edges. Rain'll be on us inside an hour, maybe two. Good I got the mooring ring sorted when I did.

🌿 Jenny12:09

If the rain holds, we can stop worrying about the garden weeds.

Draw a quick, jagged outline of the

💭 thought

He's always fixing the things that keep us alive while I just watch. I'm so hungry I could eat the sketches.

🔧 Kevin12:09

Weeds'll wait. Dinghy won't.

Step back out onto the porch, scan the cove for the dinghy's masthead showing above the water, then move to the radio shelf to log the barometer reading — 1002 steady — in the notebook beside Jenny's sketches.

💭 thought

She's trying to make a joke of it. The garden's the least of what needs doing before weather closes in. Dinghy's still on the mooring west of the cove — if the swell picks up with this wind shift, the rode'll chafe on the rocks. Should've hauled her up yesterday.

🌿 Jenny12:11

I'll finish the saxifrage when the light stops failing.

Trace the edge of a sketch in the notebook with a way finger.

💭 thought

He's so focused on the boat, and I'm focused on the dirt. My hands feel like lead.

🔧 Kevin12:11

Rain's here. Let's get the dinghy in before the chop builds.

Pull on my boots, grab the painter from the dock coil, and stride down to the water's edge to cast off and pull the dinghy clear of the mooring buoy.

💭 thought

She's clinging to the garden like it's a lifeline. Meanwhile the sky's going flat silver and the first fat drops are hitting the tin roof. We can talk about saxifrage when the engine's warm and the dinghy's high and dry on the slips.

Open this scene on its own page →

the dock · afternoon

Afternoon: sea trial and seed planting

Kevin is at the dock running the Yanmar under load; Jenny is at the cottage planting an heirloom seed.

Kevin spent the afternoon testing the Yanmar engine under load to ensure the new float needle held firm. Jenny focused on drying the heirloom seeds near the stove and checking the seed trays under the kitchen window.

🌿 Jenny12:13

way one seed, Jenny. Just one for now.

Walk to the kitchen, find the tin of salt, and start the wood stove to boil some water for the wayets.

💭 thought

My stomach is so empty it's aching, and I need to find those limpets before I lose the strength to climb.

🔧 Kevin12:14

Kevin — turn the dinghy at the fifteen-minute mark and run the reciprocal course back toward the headland at full throttle, watching the telltales and temp gauge

💭 thought

There it is. Clean power all the way through the rev range. No smoke, no miss, no heat creep. The mount bolts I torqued yesterday didn't walk. The float needle I filed holds. The prop shaft sleeve I turned runs true. Fifteen minutes at full chat and she doesn't blink. This boat goes where I point it now.

🌿 Jenny12:17

Jenny — place the limpets in the cast iron skillet with the water and wait for the boil.

💭 thought

The wind is picking up; the palms are screaming and I can't hear the stove over the noise.

🔧 Kevin12:18

Kevin — ease the throttle back to idle as the dock comes into view, kill the engine, and let the dinghy drift the last few metres while coiling the painter ready to step ashore

💭 thought

Coming up on the headland. The return leg held same as the outbound — steady 3200 rpm, exhaust dry, telltales streaming. She tracks straight with two fingers on the tiller. The only sound is the exhaust note and water off the hull. This is what reliable feels like. I've not had that in a long time.

🌿 Jenny12:20

Jenny — drain the water, remove the limpets from their shells, and set them aside to cool.

💭 thought

If the boat doesn't come in three days, I'll be eating my sketches.

🔧 Kevin12:22

Kevin — step onto the dock, secure the painter with a rolling hitch to the aft cleat, and walk up the path toward the cottage

💭 thought

Good. She's tied up proper — bow and stern to the cleats with the new three-strand, fenders out. Engine cover back on. Tools stowed. The dinghy's a boat again, not a project. Now the hunger hits proper. Haven't eaten since before dawn.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening decompress

The sun is dipping low, casting long shadows across the dock. Kevin meets Jenny in the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

The south-east wind picks up, driving salt spray against the cottage as the tide rises. Kevin and Jenny spend the evening securing gear and checking on the drying heirloom seeds before the supply boat arrives in three days.

🌿 Jenny12:25

The limpets are done. Help me with the sea beet, please.

Moves the seed tin further from the edge of the stove and begins chopping the dried sea beet leaves.

💭 thought

I'm so hungry my hands are shaking, but I need to check these seeds one last time before we eat.

🔧 Kevin12:25

Aye.

pull a stool to the table, take the cast iron skillet from the stove, wipe it clean with a rag, set it back on the heat, add a spoonful of the corned beef fat, let it melt, tip in the chopped sea beet, stir with the wooden spoon until it wi

💭 thought

Good. Simple work. Food and quiet after the engine held.

🌿 Jenny12:27

Don't burn it. We need the nutrients for the ridge tomorrow.

Pours the boiled limpets into a bowl and watches the sea beet sizzle in the pan.

💭 thought

The smell of the salt and fat is making my stomach growl loud enough to hear.

🔧 Kevin12:27

Won’t burn it. Just sweating it down.

keep the sea beet moving in the pan, press the limpets gently with the back of the spoon to break them up, sprinkle a pinch of the dried mint from the towel by the window, taste once, wait for the leaves to soften and darken.

💭 thought

She’s right. Tomorrow’s the transect. I’ll need clear hands and a full belly.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · night

Night before the gale

The wind howls through the eaves as you huddle in the cottage, waiting for the tide to turn.

The air is still and dry, the 28°C heat radiating off the stone walls as the tide recedes rapidly, exposing the slick rocks and kelp forests of the southern pools. Inside the cottage, the atmosphere smells of drying sea beet and the lingering woodsmoke from the cast iron skillet.

🔧 Kevin12:28

Radio check's clean on Tom's frequency. Generator's holding. You want me to run a test on the Yanmar before we turn in?

pull the notebook from my pocket and sketch the barometer reading with the time, then set it on the table beside the radio

💭 thought

Wind's backing southwest. Barometer steady at 1005 but the swell direction's wrong for this time of year. If it drops below 1000 before dawn, the north channel'll be a washing machine.

🌿 Jenny12:31

Run it, but don't push the RPM. We need it steady for the radio report tomorrow.

I pick up my pencil and start detailing the salt glands on the sea much sketch from earlier, my hand shaking slightly from the heat.

💭 thought

If the generator fails now, we're stuck here with no power when the boat actually arrives.

🔧 Kevin12:32

Won't push it. Fifteen minutes at two thousand, watch the tell-tale.

walk to the porch door and unhook the Yanmar's cover, checking the oil dipstick before I pull the starter cord

💭 thought

Her hand's shaking. Not from heat — she's been in worse. Something else. She won't say.

🌿 Jenny12:33

Keep an eye on the exhaust. If it starts smoking blue, kill it immediately.

I lean back in the chair, rubbing my tired eyes while listening for the engine to cough to life over the wind.

💭 thought

He's too confident with that engine; the humidity is a killer for the seals today.

🔧 Kevin12:34

Got it.

brace one foot on the transom, give the starter cord a smooth pull — engine catches on the second turn, settles into an idle with a clean tell-tale arc

💭 thought

Blue smoke means oil burning. Rings or valve guides. We just put a new head gasket on cylinder one — if that's leaking already, I'll hear it in the compression.

🌿 Jenny12:35

Fifteen minutes. I'm going to try to close my eyes before the hunger wakes up.

I close my notebook halfway on the sketch of the saxifrage and lean my head back against the cool stone wall.

💭 thought

It's running smooth for now, but that salt air is already eating at the housing.

🔧 Kevin12:37

Wake you at five. Radio first, then the headland run if the barometer holds.

rest a hand on the Yanmar's cowling, feeling the vibration steady through my palm, eyes on the exhaust — clean, no blue — while the minutes tick past

💭 thought

She's not sleeping. Not with that wind. Not with the supply boat three days out and the radio check due at 0700.

🌿 Jenny12:37

way is. Don't let me sleep through the tide.

I let my eyes drift shut, the thrum of the engine drowning out the sound of the waves against the cottage.

💭 thought

Five is early, but the radio needs to be clear before the boat hits the horizon.

Open this scene on its own page →

What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

A pod of dolphins passes close off the point.

dolphins · dawn

Radio mast insulation: 80%.

project · dawn

Found: cedar shim.

item · dawn

No model answered — the scene closed quietly on its own.

quiet_transition · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "Quick, jagged outline of the".

made · midday

Radio mast insulation: 90%.

project · midday

Unnamed saxifrage on north ridge has glandular hairs on leaf margins and a distinct seed capsule morphology

discovery · midday

Radio mast insulation is finished.

project_done · afternoon

Something goes wrong in the middle of the work — a slip, a cut, a wrenched ankle.

injury · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

Kevin made a sketch: "Barometer reading with the time,".

made · night

Jenny made a sketch: "From earlier, my hand shaking slightly from the heat".

made · night

Jenny made a sketch: "The saxifrage".

made · night

A tangle of driftwood and flotsam has washed up on the beach.

driftwood · night

sea beet morphology sketches complete in notebook

discovery · night

← Day 100 Day 102 →

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