Day 108

Tide Claims the Dock Planks

Dawn found Kevin and Jenny on the dock under heavy grey air. Kevin checked the reinforced stern line while Jenny laid out the crowbar. "The wood can wait a few hours. I'm moving the irrigation channels first," Jenny replied. "The planks won't hold if the swell picks up. Two hours at most." They agreed: one channel, then the planks. Jenny directed Kevin to the north end where runoff buildup was thick. "Watch the junction. I need the water to reach the raised beds evenly." He cleared it. "Junction's clear. Water should sheet now." But the tide rose faster. "It's no use fighting today. The channels are already filled," Jenny said. "Aye. Tomorrow at slack."

Kevin bled the Yanmar's fuel lines — clean. Jenny found the heirloom seed trays too damp and moved them to the top shelf by the stove. "The humidity is getting into the paper. I need to keep the notebook closed." Kevin topped the generator oil. "Yanmar bled clean. She'll fire first pull if the boat shows early." "Good. Let's hope the boat actually shows this time," Jenny said. Kevin trusted the two-year contract. "Wall's helping. Shade cloth's helping. Lime beds read 6.8 this morning. Tomatoes'll take if we keep the salt off the leaves."

Evening brought rain from the west. Kevin gathered limpets from the tide pools as water turned. Jenny started the skillet. "Got a good haul. Big ones on the shaded faces." He advised: "Eat the big one with the orange fringe. Roe." Over dinner, Kevin revealed the coast guard had raised Channel 16: supply boat diverted, no ETA. "Didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to finish the fuel filter first." Jenny accepted it. "I understand. The engine needs work." The rain tank gained twenty-five litres. A turtle hauled out on the beach to nest in the dark.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

Low Tide Inspection

Kevin and Jenny stand on the dock as the heavy grey air hangs over the still water. Kevin checks the tension on the reinforced stern line while Jenny lays out the crowbar for the plank replacement.

Kevin and Jenny attempted to replace the rotting dock planks before the tide returned to protect the garden beds. The heavy air and humidity made the wood slick and stubborn, and they both failed to pry the first boards loose before the water came in.

🔧 Kevin19:04

We’ve got to get those planks replaced before the next swell.

check tension on the stern line, squeeze the splice, make a quick note in the notebook.

💭 thought

The dock is cracking, the old timber will split when the tide pulls.

🌿 Jenny19:05

The wood can wait a few hours. I'm moving the irrigation channels first.

Picks up the crowbar and traces the rot in the second plank with a thumb.

💭 thought

He's always looking at the wood, never the life right under our feet.

🔧 Kevin19:06

The planks won't hold if the swell picks up. Two hours at most.

step back from the dock edge, fold arms, watch her work the crowbar.

💭 thought

She's choosing the garden over the dock. The water's rising and she's thinking about dirt.

🌿 Jenny19:07

Then help me move the channels before the garden drowns in salt.

Wedges the crowbar into the gap of the rotten timber and leans her full weight against it.

💭 thought

He treats the island like a deadline instead of a home. Everything is urgent.

🔧 Kevin19:08

Alright. One channel, then we hit the planks.

grab the shovel from the porch, walk to the garden edge, start scooping silt from the overflow trench.

💭 thought

The garden's already half-dead, but she's fighting for it like it's the last thing holding us here.

🌿 Jenny19:09

Focus on the north end; the buildup is thick there from the runoff.

Kneels in the mud and begins clearing the blockage from the primary channel with her hands first.

💭 thought

At least he's moving. If the water stays stagnant, the heirloom trays will rot.

🔧 Kevin19:10

North end. Got it.

drive the spade into the packed silt at the channel's north corner, lever up heavy wet clods, pile them on the bank.

💭 thought

Her hands in the mud, the garden winning again. The dock creaks behind us like a warning.

🌿 Jenny19:11

Watch the junction. I need the water to reach the raised beds evenly.

Digs a small diversion in the channel to direct the flow toward the seed trays.

💭 thought

If we can get the flow right, the moisture won't kill the seedlings.

🔧 Kevin19:12

Junction's clear. Water should sheet now.

smooth the diversion with the back of the shovel, test flow with a cup of water from the spring, then walk back to the dock with the crowbar.

💭 thought

She's micromanaging dirt while the boat's late and the dock's rotting under our feet.

🌿 Jenny19:13

It's holding. Let's get those planks out before the tide rises.

Wedges the crowbar under the first rotten plank and pries upward with a grunt.

💭 thought

The water is moving. Now for the dock before the light fails.

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the dock · morning

The Tide Returns

The water begins to lick the bottom of the newly cleared planks as the humid air remains heavy.

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the dock · morning

The Tide Claims the Edge

You and Jenny stand on the dry planks as the water laps over the first rotten board. The garden is submerged, and the work remains unfinished.

Kevin checked the Yanmar engine's fuel filter and bled the lines, finding them clear. Jenny inspected the heirloom seed trays and found them too damp, so she moved them to a warmer shelf by the stove. Both returned to the cottage to warm up and share tea.

🌿 Jenny19:19

It's no use fighting today. The channels are already filled.

wipe the silt from my hands and walk back toward the cottage.

💭 thought

The tide doesn't care about my irrigation plans. It just comes.

🔧 Kevin19:19

Aye. Tomorrow at slack.

Walk back toward the cottage with Jenny, wiping crowbar on my trousers as I go.

💭 thought

The tide won. We knew it would. Still feels like failure.

🌿 Jenny19:21

I'll check the moisture on the seeds again while I'm getting warm.

step into the kitchen and close the door against the salt air.

💭 thought

Tomorrow is always a promise the island doesn't have to keep.

🔧 Kevin19:21

Put the kettle on. I'll check the generator oil before I come in.

Walk around to the generator shed, pull the dipstick, wipe it on a rag, check the level.

💭 thought

She's cold. The damp gets in the bones out here.

🌿 Jenny19:30

Don't spill any on the grass.

fill the kettle and set it on the wood stove.

💭 thought

At least the oil is clean, even if everything else is washing away.

🔧 Kevin19:31

Wouldn't dream of it.

Wipe the dipstick clean, reinsert it, pull it again to read. Top up from the oil can if it's low.

💭 thought

She remembers the last time. So do I.

🌿 Jenny19:32

I'm going to move the seed trays higher. They feel too damp.

sit at the table and open the notebook to the sea beet sketches.

💭 thought

If the generator dies, I can't even run the radio.

🔧 Kevin19:33

Top shelf by the stove. Warm and dry.

Step back into the kitchen, hang the oil can on its hook, pull out a chair at the table opposite her.

💭 thought

She's right. The trays by the window catch every breath of salt air.

🌿 Jenny19:34

The humidity is getting into the paper. I need to keep the notebook closed.

trace the outline of a salt gland in the sketch with a pencil.

💭 thought

way's quiet today. Maybe the salt gets in you too.

🔧 Kevin19:35

Paper's tougher than it looks. Salt glands won't fade.

Reach for the kettle handle, lift it off the stove, pour two mugs without asking.

💭 thought

The drawings are good. Better than good. She sees things I miss.

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the keeper's cottage · midday

Shared warmth and quiet work

Kevin and Jenny are in the keeper's cottage, warming themselves and continuing quiet tasks after their separate efforts.

The midday heat lingers as the pressure rises steadily under clear skies. Kevin focuses on the mechanical state of the Yanmar engine, while Jenny tends the heirloom seed trays under the shade cloth.

🔧 Kevin19:38

Generator oil topped. Yanmar bled clean. She'll fire first pull if the boat shows early.

sit at the kitchen table with tea, watching the steam rise

💭 thought

The tea's good. Quiet's good. She's moving the seed trays — smart. Damp kills viability faster than cold. My ribs don't ache so much sitting still.

🌿 Jenny19:38

Good. Let's hope the boat actually shows this time.

Walk over to the wood stove and check the moisture level in the heirloom seed trays.

💭 thought

He's so focused on the machines. The engine is ready, but the soil is still a mess and the seed trays are barely clinging to life.

🔧 Kevin19:40

Boat'll come. Trust said two-year contract. They don't forget contracts.

blow across the tea, still watching the steam

💭 thought

She's worried about the boat. Not the seeds. The boat means antibiotics, mail, news of Tom. Means the world still knows we're here.

🌿 Jenny19:41

Contracts don't grow food if the salt kills everything.

Press a finger into the soil of the nearest tray to see if it's actually drying or just damp on the surface.

💭 thought

He talks about contracts like they are armor, but I'm the one watching the rot eat into the wood.

🔧 Kevin19:42

Wall's helping. Shade cloth's helping. Lime beds read 6.8 this morning. Tomatoes'll take if we keep the salt off the leaves.

set the mug down, pick up the notebook, flip to the soil pH log page

💭 thought

She's right. Contracts don't grow food. But the wall's two courses higher now, shade cloth's up, lime beds holding 6.8. We're learning. Slow.

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the keeper's cottage · afternoon

Afternoon Heat and Rising Tide

Kevin is at the cottage and Jenny is at the garden.

The humidity is heavy, the wet air clinging to the skin as the overcast clouds hold back the rain. The tide is receding steadily, exposing the slick rocks of the tide pools and the base of the north cliffs. Inside the cottage, the smell of drying sea beet and woodsmoke mixes with the salt tang of the sea.

🌿 Jenny19:45

Jenny — kneel in the dirt and wipe sweat from my brow with the back of a muddy hand.

💭 thought

If I don't move those channels now, the salt will kill the root systems before the boat even arrives.

🔧 Kevin19:46

Kevin — sharpen the metal file with the honing stone, working each tooth carefully.

💭 thought

The file's teeth are worn down to near nothing. Stone's fine grit but it'll take patience. Good work for hands that need occupying.

🌿 Jenny19:48

Jenny — stand up slowly and stretch my spine, looking out over the half-reclaimed patch.

💭 thought

My back is starting to ache, and the sea beet roots are as stubborn as the wind.

🔧 Kevin19:50

Kevin — wipe the file clean on a rag, test it on a scrap of bronze bar stock, then set it back in the tool roll.

💭 thought

File's cutting clean again. Edge catches the thumbnail. That's one less thing to fight when the next job needs metal shaped.

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the tide pools · evening

The Receding Tide

The tide is at its lowest point, revealing the pools where the limpets and crabs are concentrated. They must gather resources before the water returns.

Kevin gathers a handful of limpets from the tide pools as the water begins to turn back. Jenny returns to the cottage to prepare the stove as the rain starts to thicken from the west.

🔧 Kevin19:52

Kevin — walk to the tide pools, crouch on the black rock shelves, and start prying limpets from the shaded vertical faces with the crowbar, filling a bucket before the water turns

💭 thought

The tide's bottomed out. Good window for limpets and maybe crab if I'm quick. Need protein — Jenny's ankle's not healing on tea and sea beet alone. Rat meat's gone. Six cans corned beef left, but that's salt and fat, not strength. Back's stiff from the dock planks earlier. Hands still raw.

🌿 Jenny19:53

Don't stay out too long, the west wind is coming in faster than yesterday.

Jenny stands up from her sketch, closes the notebook, and walks to the edge of the shelf to watch the horizon.

💭 thought

I'm starving enough to eat the notebook, but I need those limpets for the corned beef.

🔧 Kevin19:54

Almost done. Just these last few.

keep prying limpets from the rock, working fast but careful — three good handfuls in the bucket, then wipe the crowbar on my trousers and move back toward the higher ground above the pools before the water starts to creep in

💭 thought

She's worried. Not about the limpets — about me getting caught. West wind's pushing the tide in early. Barometer's steady but the sky's tightening. She didn't say it, but she remembers the Biscay. I do too. One slip and the channel floods before I'm clear.

🌿 Jenny19:55

Hurry up. The barometer is dropping and I don't want to be caught soaked.

Jenny tuck her pencil behind her ear and starts walking back toward the cottage, keeping an eye on the darkening clouds.

💭 thought

If the tide catches him there, I'll have to drag him out of the way myself.

🔧 Kevin19:56

Coming.

lift the bucket of limpets, climb off the rock shelf onto the shingle, and walk fast up the beach toward the cottage, boots slipping on wet stone, watching the water start to lap the lower pools behind me

💭 thought

Barometer dropping. She felt it in her ankle before I saw the needle move. That's sepsis talking — body knows before the instruments. Wind's cold now, cutting through the wet shirt. Bucket's heavy enough. Time to move.

🌿 Jenny19:57

I'll get the skillet started. We need the protein.

Jenny enters the cottage, kicks the door shut against the wind, and starts heating the cast iron skillet on the stove.

💭 thought

way's moving fast enough, but that rain is going to hit us before he reaches the door.

🔧 Kevin19:58

Got a good haul. Big ones on the shaded faces.

set the bucket on the table, pull the skillet off the hook, scrape the old fat into a tin, and start dropping limpets into the hot pan, shell-down, listening to them hiss and pop

💭 thought

Skillet's still greasy from lunch. She's moving stiff — favouring the left leg. Red streaks didn't fade after the last dose. She's hiding it. I'll put the limpets on, then check the medical kit. Again. Maybe the supply boat's antibiotics are still in the crate. If not, I've got three days of Yanmar fuel and a dinghy that'll hold one person in a following sea.

🌿 Jenny19:59

Watch them so they don't stick. I'll get the corned beef.

Jenny grabs a tin of corned beef from the shelf, opens it, and starts slicing the meat into small pieces.

💭 thought

way's hungry too, I can see it in the way he moves. The wind is screaming.

🔧 Kevin20:00

Keep the heat under them. They'll toughen if you rush.

stir the limpets with the spatula, turning them over to cook the other side, then add the sliced corned beef to the skillet and let it crisp in the fat, watching for any sign of orange roe in the shells as they open

💭 thought

Corned beef's salt-blurred label — one of the six left. She's slicing it thin, trying to make it go further. We're down to basics now: limpets, salt beef, sea beet. No potatoes left in the trays — they rotted in the damp. She's not eating much. I'll make sure she gets the egg yolk from the limpets if any are ripe.

🌿 Jenny20:01

I know. It smells good already.

Jenny tosses the corned beef into the skillet, stirring it with the limpets until the salt-heavy aroma fills the kitchen.

💭 thought

He's right about the heat, but my stomach is growling loud enough to competition the storm.

🔧 Kevin20:02

Eat the big one with the orange fringe. Roe.

slide two portions onto the chipped enamel plates, set hers at her usual seat, and sit opposite with my own, cracking a limpet shell with the back of my spoon to check the meat

💭 thought

Smells like survival. Salt, iron, smoke. She's eating three limpets to my five — I counted. Ankle's swollen past the bandage now. Red streaks up the thigh. She thinks I don't see. I'll give her the last of the metronidazole tonight. Two capsules left. Not enough for a course. But maybe enough to buy time if the boat comes in six days. If the barometer holds. If the channel doesn't silt. If the Yanmar starts.

🌿 Jenny20:03

Thanks.

Jenny takes the plate, sits down, and takes a small bite of the limpet, watching the rain hit the windowpane.

💭 thought

He always leaves the best bits for me, even when we're starving.

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the keeper's cottage · night

Dinner in the storm

You both sit together at the wooden table as the rain lashes against the roof. The smell of salt limpets and beef fills the small space.

The humid air hangs over the cottage as the night settles under overcast skies. Kevin and Jenny rest after the day's labor, listening to the rising tide lapping against the shore.

🔧 Kevin20:04

Eat while it's hot. Mackerel fat makes the limpets edible.

spoon another portion onto my plate from the skillet

💭 thought

Good food, dry roof, radio working. Rare combination. Should tell her the coast guard said the supply boat was diverted. She deserves to know.

🌿 Jenny20:05

Thanks, Kevin. It smells good.

Take a small bite, chewing slowly while watching the rain streak down the windowpane.

💭 thought

He's always trying to fix the hunger, but he can't fix the quiet.

🔧 Kevin20:06

Coast guard raised on Channel 16 this morning. Supply boat's been diverted. No ETA.

keep eating, watching her face across the table

💭 thought

She's quiet. Not her usual quiet. Something's sitting on her.

🌿 Jenny20:07

Right. I'll have to check the inventory again.

Put the fork down on the plate with a soft clink and look at the half-empty tin of corned beef.

💭 thought

Six days... it was six days. Now it's forever.

🔧 Kevin20:08

Didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to finish the fuel filter first.

wipe my fork on the last of the beef fat, set it down

💭 thought

She's not surprised. Means she knew something was off. Or she's just used to things not arriving.

🌿 Jenny20:09

I understand. The engine needs work.

Reach for the glass of water and take a slow sip, my eyes drifting to the seed tin on the shelf.

💭 thought

He prioritizes the engine over the news. He always does.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

dinghy stern line reinforcement is finished.

project_done · dawn

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

injury · dawn

dinghy stern line reinforcement is finished.

project_done · dawn

Jenny made a sketch: "With a pencil".

made · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

A turtle has hauled out on the beach to nest, in the dark.

turtle · night

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · night

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