Day 117

The Heavy Crate and a Dropping Barometer

Dawn broke grey and still, the air heavy with humidity. The barometer continued its slow descent. High tide lapped the new dock planks where a waterlogged crate sat in the shade. Kevin and Jenny stood over it. "Crowbar's on the porch. Grab the other end — we'll haul it up before the tide turns," Kevin said. "Help me lift it, don't let it slip on your feet," Jenny replied. "On three. One — two — three." "Watch the splinters, keep it level!" "Got it. Hold — hold —" "Almost there, don't let it drop back!" "Together. Now." "Watch out for the edge, it's sharp." They got it onto the porch. Later, Kevin inspected the spruce spar split at the mast step and began epoxying it. Jenny walked the north ridge, sketching Carex leaves — detailed view, serrated edges — and checking pH in the lime beds. She also sketched southern flat succulents. As tide turned, Kevin worked the dinghy transom at the dock. "Watch the tension, Kevin! The wood is still green," Jenny called. "It's not the tension. It's the wood. Cut too green, won't hold epoxy in this damp." "I know. I just need it to stay dry for an hour." Evening pressed low, salt and rain in the air. Seeds felt tacky. Barometer still falling. "The way is dropping, Kevin. We need to move the trays inside before the rain turns." "Aye. Grab the tomato and pepper trays. I'll take the basil and lettuce." "I'll get the succulents too. They're sensitive to the humidity spike." "Here. Let me take one." "Thanks, the ceramic is slick from the damp." "Kitchen counter or the table by the stove?" "major put." "I'm starving." "I'll rustle up some limpets and sea beet. Give me five." "Don't take too long, the barometer is dropping." "Back before the rain." Night brought first heavy drops on the tin roof. Trade wind steady at 26°C. Barometer 1019 hPa. Tide receding fast.

Dawn broke grey and still, the air heavy with humidity. The barometer continued its slow descent. High tide lapped the new dock planks where a waterlogged crate sat in the shade. Kevin and Jenny stood over it. "Crowbar's on the porch. Grab the other end — we'll haul it up before the tide turns," Kevin said. "Help me lift it, don't let it slip on your feet," Jenny replied. "On three. One — two — three." "Watch the splinters, keep it level!" "Got it. Hold — hold —" "Almost there, don't let it drop back!" "Together. Now." "Watch out for the edge, it's sharp." They got it onto the porch. Later, Kevin inspected the spruce spar split at the mast step and began epoxying it. Jenny walked the north ridge, sketching Carex leaves — detailed view, serrated edges — and checking pH in the lime beds. She also sketched southern flat succulents. As tide turned, Kevin worked the dinghy transom at the dock. "Watch the tension, Kevin! The wood is still green," Jenny called. "It's not the tension. It's the wood. Cut too green, won't hold epoxy in this damp." "I know. I just need it to stay dry for an hour." Evening pressed low, salt and rain in the air. Seeds felt tacky. Barometer still falling. "The way is dropping, Kevin. We need to move the trays inside before the rain turns." "Aye. Grab the tomato and pepper trays. I'll take the basil and lettuce." "I'll get the succulents too. They're sensitive to the humidity spike." "Here. Let me take one." "Thanks, the ceramic is slick from the damp." "Kitchen counter or the table by the stove?" "major put." "I'm starving." "I'll rustle up some limpets and sea beet. Give me five." "Don't take too long, the barometer is dropping." "Back before the rain." Night brought first heavy drops on the tin roof. Trade wind steady at 26°C. Barometer 1019 hPa. Tide receding fast.