Day 146

Rain-Bound, Transom and Tank Full

Dawn broke under heavy rain from the west, the barometer dropping steadily. Kevin scrubbed salt from collected limpets with a wire brush while Jenny set water to boil. "The barometer is dropping. We need to boil these limpets before the stove starts smoking," she said. "Water on first. Let it come up proper before the limpets hit it. Damper wide open — might keep the smoke down," Kevin replied. He rinsed the limpets quickly in fresh water. "Easy with the brush — they're not barnacles. Rinse them quick in fresh water, then we'll shock them in the boil. Skillet can wait." Jenny snapped, "Fine. Just don't take all day to rinse a rock. I'm starving."

Kevin turned to the dinghy transom, mixing thick epoxy with sawdust to reinforce the structural joint. Humidity slowed the cure. "Check the consistency again. I don't want it tacky when the boat hits the next wave," Jenny said. "It's thinner. Heat helped. Still got grit in it from the sawdust mix — that's fine, gives it tooth." He mixed another batch for the doubler plate bolts. "Keep it slow. I don't want it gassing before we get the bolts to the step."

Midday rain drummed the tin roof. The water tank topped to its 400-litre capacity. "The tank is full. At least we have water," Jenny said. "Yeah. Full tank. Now if only the dinghy would stop leaking." Kevin torqued bolts to thirty, not thirty-five. "Don't over-torque the bolts in this humidity, Kevin. The wood's too soft."

Afternoon brought no break. Jenny monitored heirloom seed trays. "The humidity is the enemy right now. It's getting into the very cells." Kevin cracked the lee window for a cross-draft. "Look at the base. If it's translucent, it's already over."

Evening fell. The barometer read 998 hPa. "The barometer is falling fast. Check the windows again." "On it. Generator tarp first, then the shutters." "Make sure the corners are tucked. The wind will rip it right off the frame." "Corners tucked. Rope's new, won't snap like the old stuff." A pod of dolphins passed close off the point. Fruit ripened in the woods, its scent rising before sight. The rat accessed the flour sack area. They ate dinner by the stove as rain intensified.

Scenes

the keeper's cottage · dawn

Rain-bound Morning

Heavy rain lashes against the roof as the barometer pressure continues to drop. Jenny examines the seed trays on the wood stove while Kevin inspects the damp seed tin for further mold.

The heavy rain intensifies from the west, forcing work indoors or under heavy cover. Kevin spends the morning prepping the epoxy for the dinghy transom, while the humidity slows the cure. Jenny uses the falling tide to forage the pools before the water rises again.

🔧 Kevin05:53

Tin's holding. Mold's contained to the tomato packets we separated. Rest look viable.

Check the epoxy tub on the stove shelf — see if the heat's thinned it enough to work the transom scarf joint today.

💭 thought

Barometer's still falling. Rain's not letting up. Seed tin's damp but the mold hasn't spread past the edges we trimmed. If the pressure drops below 1000 with this southwest swell, the supply boat won't make it in eight days. Need the dinghy seaworthy before we're cut off longer.

🌿 Jenny05:53

Check the consistency again. I don't want it tacky when the boat hits the next wave.

Reach out to touch the soil in the heirloom seed tray, checking for the first sign of a green hook.

💭 thought

If the humidity stays this high, the epoxy won't cure properly, and I'll lose the whole scarf joint.

🔧 Kevin05:54

It's thinner. Heat helped. Still got grit in it from the sawdust mix — that's fine, gives it tooth.

Scoop a finger into the epoxy tub, test the pull between thumb and forefinger, then wipe clean on a rag.

💭 thought

She's right. Epoxy's been sitting by the stove all night — should be workable now. If it's still tacky when the transom flexes underway, the scarf joint'll open up and we're back to square one.

🌿 Jenny05:55

way make sure it's not gummy. I need that joint to hold when the wind picks up again.

Lean over the wood stove, squinting at the seed trays to catch a hint of life through the damp soil.

💭 thought

If there's too much grit, the bond will be brittle under the first stress of a storm.

🔧 Kevin05:56

It's clean. No gum. Mix another batch for the doubler plate bolts — we'll bed them in the same stuff.

Grab the mixing stick and a clean tin, measure epoxy and hardener by eye, fold in dry sawdust until it peaks.

💭 thought

She's watching the seeds like they'll sprout on command. The epoxy's ready — warm, smooth, no gumminess. Transom work can start. But the wind's already picking up through the chimney. If the squall hits before the joint cures, we lose the window.

🌿 Jenny05:56

Keep it slow. I don't want it gassing before we get the bolts to the step.

Trace the edge of a seed tray with a fingernail, looking for the slight curve of a sprout.

💭 thought

If the ratio is off, the bolts will just pull out of the wood when the boat groans.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · morning

shelter from the storm

The rain lashes against the windows as Kevin and Jenny meet inside the kitchen. The smell of damp canvas and salt fills the small space.

Kevin spent the morning scrubbing salt from the collected limpets using a wire brush and fresh water. Jenny prepared a pot of water on the stove and waited for it to reach a boil. The air remains heavy and still as the atmospheric pressure continues its slow drop.

🌿 Jenny05:58

The barometer is dropping. We need to boil these limpets before the stove starts smoking.

Places the basket of limpets on the wooden table and wipes salt-water hands on her apron.

💭 thought

He's looking at the radio again. I can see the tension in his shoulders from over here.

🔧 Kevin05:59

Water on first. Let it come up proper before the limpets hit it. Damper wide open — might keep the smoke down.

Fill the kettle from the rain tank and set it on the wood stove, then open the damper fully.

💭 thought

Barometer's falling hard and the stove's drafting wrong in this pressure. Smoke'll fill the kitchen if we're not careful. Limpets need boiling water first — cold start makes them tough as boot leather.

🌿 Jenny06:00

I'll get the skillet ready. I'm starving enough to eat the notebook pages.

Grabs the cast iron skillet and begins scrubbing the salt off the limpets with a wire brush.

💭 thought

He's always worried about the mechanics of the stove while the world is literally drowning.

🔧 Kevin06:01

Easy with the brush — they're not barnacles. Rinse them quick in fresh water, then we'll shock them in the boil. Skillet can wait.

Take the wire brush from Jenny's hand, turn on the tap at the sink, and rinse the limpets under running water while filling a second pot with fresh water for boiling.

💭 thought

Wire brush on limpets? That'll tear the meat. She's hungry and frustrated — same as me. Need to cool this before she ruins breakfast.

🌿 Jenny06:03

Fine. Just don't take all day to rinse a rock. I'm starving.

Sets the skillet down and starts sharpening a small paring knife, waiting for the water to boil.

💭 thought

He's being careful with the shells, like they're made of glass.

🔧 Kevin06:03

Rolling now.

Drop the rinsed limpets into the boiling pot, set a mental timer for three minutes, and scoop a spoonful of congealed corned beef fat from the jar into the hot skillet to melt.

💭 thought

She's not wrong. Hands shaking from hunger and the damp cold. Water's singing now — near boil. Get them in, three minutes max, then into the skillet with what's left of the corned beef fat.

Open this scene on its own page →

the dock · midday

Midday Preparation

Kevin is at the dock, and Jenny is at the garden.

The rain continues its steady, rhythmic beat against the tin roof, turning the island into a humid, grey world. The water tank has finally topped to its 400-litre capacity, ending the immediate worry of thirst for now. At the dock, the air is thick with the scent of salt and wet earth, and the wood of the planks sighs under the downpour.

🌿 Jenny06:04

Come on, just one.

Reach out and gently poke the soil of the tomato seed tray to check for moisture and movement.

💭 thought

If these don't break through the surface, I'm just a curator of a graveyard.

🔧 Kevin06:06

Kevin — walk the dock to the shed, fetch the drill and 10mm stainless bolts, washers, nyloc nuts

💭 thought

Epoxy's still tacky. Humidity's killing the cure. Need heat or mechanical fastening — bolts through the knee, doubler plate inside. Ugly but it'll hold water.

🌿 Jenny06:08

Jenny — stand up slowly, wiping the damp earth from my knees, and head toward the kitchen to check the water tank.

💭 thought

The rain is getting louder on the tin roof, and my stomach is starting to growl.

🔧 Kevin06:10

Kevin — drill through the transom knee from inside the dinghy, two holes for the doubler plate bolts

💭 thought

Drill bit's dull. Should've sharpened it last week. Pushing hard on rotten timber — if the bit wanders I lose the hole alignment. Keep it slow, let the tool do the work.

🌿 Jenny06:12

Jenny — walk to the shelf and look at the heirloom seed tin, tracing the rim of the metal with my thumb.

💭 thought

The tank is full, at least that's one thing that isn't failing today.

🔧 Kevin06:14

Kevin — measure and mark the stainless doubler plate, cut it wider with the angle grinder, drill matching bolt holes

💭 thought

Two clean holes. Timber's softer than I thought — rot goes deeper past the knee. Doubler plate needs to span solid wood. Cut it wider, back it with a timber block on the outside too.

Open this scene on its own page →

the dock · afternoon

Waiting for the Break

The rain shows no signs of slowing, and the barometer continues to drop lower numbers. The supply boat is still eight days away.

Kevin works on the dinghy transom, using a thick epoxy and sawdust mixture to reinforce the structural joint. Jenny monitors the seedling trays, concerned about the high humidity affecting the germination of the heirloom sprouts.

🔧 Kevin06:16

Kevin — walk back to the cottage and bring the epoxy tub inside near the stove to warm

💭 thought

Eight days with the glass at 999 and falling. The boat won't make it in this. Transom's still wet, epoxy's still tacky, and I'm standing here with cold hands watching rain ruin another afternoon.

🌿 Jenny06:17

Keep it from the draft, Kevin. I need it warm but not boiling.

Trace the curve of a new sprout in the notebook, noting the slight yellowing from the damp.

💭 thought

If the humidity stays this high, the epoxy will never set properly, and those sprouts will just turn to mush.

🔧 Kevin06:18

Got it. I'll set it on the trivet, not the plate. Keep an eye on it.

place the epoxy tub on the trivet beside the stove, then pull out the notebook and sketch a quick cross-section of the transom repair — doubler plate, through-bolts, where the sawdust mix goes — to keep my hands busy while it warms

💭 thought

She's right — heat helps, but too much and it skins over. Need steady warmth, not a blast. The sprout's yellowing from too much wet and not enough air; same as the epoxy if I rush it.

🌿 Jenny06:19

The humidity is the enemy right now. It's getting into the very cells.

Wipe a bead of condensation off the page of the notebook before checking the seed trays for mold.

💭 thought

If I can't get this epoxy to cure, the dinghy is just a coffin waiting for the next storm.

🔧 Kevin06:20

I'll crack the window on the lee side. Get a cross-draft going without soaking the floor.

open the cottage window on the leeward side a hand's width, then check the seed trays myself — lift each cell, look for fuzz at the soil line, sniff for that sour smell

💭 thought

She means the seeds, the wood, the epoxy, all of it. Humidity's a slow rot you don't see until something gives. The trays need air more than water right now.

🌿 Jenny06:21

Jenny — lean close to the trays, inspecting the soil surface for the first signs of rot.

💭 thought

If the mold hits now, the whole batch is gone, and I can't lose grandmother's seeds. ownSAY: Watch the edges. If you see white fuzz, we pull them out immediately.

🔧 Kevin06:22

Kevin — crouch beside her with the fine tweezers — broken tip and all — and gently tease back the surface crust on the tomato cells, checking for white thread at the stem bases

💭 thought

She's thorough. Good. The basil went first last time — damp-off takes it overnight. If she catches it at the soil line we can dust with cinnamon or just thin the cells and pray.

🌿 Jenny06:23

Look at the base. If it's translucent, it's already over.

Trace the tiny cotyledon leaves in the notebook, noting the pale green against the dark soil.

💭 thought

They're holding for now, but the air is too heavy. Every breath feels like breathing through a wet cloth.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening Assessment

Kevin and Jenny meet in the kitchen as the light begins to fade. The smell of salt and curing resin lingers in the air.

The steady rain continues, filling the water tank to its capacity. Kevin works inside the cottage on the dinghy transom repair while waiting for the epoxy to cure. Jenny monitors the germinating heirloom seed trays in the high humidity.

🌿 Jenny06:24

The tank is full. At least we have water.

wipe the condensation off the table and look at the seed tin.

💭 thought

I'm so tired my bones ache, and if that rain doesn't stop, the seeds will just rot anyway.

🔧 Kevin06:25

Yeah. Full tank. Now if only the dinghy would stop leaking.

wipe hands on rag, grab the doubler plate and drill from the workbench, head for the dock under the porch cover.

💭 thought

The tank is full, but the transom still won't hold. I need to get that doubler plate in before dark if I'm stepping the mast tonight.

🌿 Jenny06:26

Don't over-torque the bolts in this humidity, Kevin. The wood's too soft.

lean against the counter and watch him go, rubbing a hungry stomach.

💭 thought

He's still obsessing over the hull. He thinks a watertight boat is the same thing as a stable life.

🔧 Kevin06:26

Thirty. Not thirty-five.

pause at the door, nod once, step out onto the porch and down the slick boards toward the dock.

💭 thought

She's right. The spruce drinks the rain like a sponge. Thirty Newton-meters, not thirty-five. I know this.

🌿 Jenny06:28

Jenny — walk over to the stove and check the seedling trays for any sign of mold.

💭 thought

He thinks a number is a shield. Thirty, thirty-five—it doesn't change the fact that the island is trying to swallow the cottage.

🔧 Kevin06:28

Kevin — reach the dinghy, crouch at the transom, run fingers over the epoxy-sawdust mix from this morning — still tacky, not cured — set the hardwood doubler plate against the knee, mark the bolt holes with a pencil through the existing pattern.

💭 thought

Good. She's watching the seedlings. I'd forget them until they rotted.

🌿 Jenny06:30

Jenny — lean over the seed trays, inspecting the damp soil for the first hint of green.

💭 thought

If he forces those bolts now, the wood will just split like the old mast.

🔧 Kevin06:30

Kevin — drill the first pilot hole through the doubler into the transom — slow, let the bit bite, keep it square. Wood's soft, but the grain's straight here. Good purchase.

💭 thought

If those seeds don't pop in the next two days, we're eating limpets and corned beef till the boat comes. No garden this year.

🌿 Jenny06:32

Jenny — trace the edge of a sea beet sketch with a finger, looking for a sprout that hasn't given up yet.

💭 thought

He's so focused on the mechanics, he doesn't see the rot in the air.

🔧 Kevin06:33

Kevin — feed the stainless bolts through from the outside, spin washers and nylocs on the inner side, set the torque wrench to thirty, tighten each in a star pattern — one, two, three, four — feel the doubler draw up tight against the knee.

💭 thought

Second hole. Third. Four. The doubler seats clean. Now the through-bolts — washers, nylocs, thirty Newton-meters on the torque wrench. Don't rush it.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · night

Evening meal by the stove

The rain intensifies as you gather for dinner. The barometer continues to drop.

The night passed under a heavy, thickening atmosphere as the barometer continued its drop to 998 hPa, signaling an approaching shift in weather. The tide retreated far at dawn, leaving the shore pools slick and exposed before the first light hit the island.

🌿 Jenny06:34

The barometer is falling fast. Check the windows again.

Move the seed trays from the porch to the center of the kitchen table.

💭 thought

If the pressure drops any further, the storm will be here by morning. I need to move the trays off the draft.

🔧 Kevin06:35

On it. Generator tarp first, then the shutters.

walk to the porch and secure the plastic tarp over the generator and seed tin with fresh lashings, then check and tighten the cottage window shutters on all sides

💭 thought

She's right. 998 and falling steady means this isn't passing. The windows need battening and the generator needs covering if we're running it tonight. I should check the dinghy lines too — wind backing southwest will put chop on the dock.

🌿 Jenny06:36

Make sure the corners are tucked. The wind will rip it right off the frame.

Sketch the pattern of the sea beet leaves in the notebook while waiting for the water to boil.

💭 thought

He's moving too fast; the wind is going to catch that tarp if it's not taut.

🔧 Kevin06:39

Corners tucked. Rope's new, won't snap like the old stuff.

pull the tarp corners tight against the porch posts, lash them down with half-hitches on the new three-strand, then test each knot with body weight before moving to the window shutters

💭 thought

She's seen more squalls come through this channel than I have. The corners are always the first to go — wind gets under them and peels the whole thing back like a tin can.

Open this scene on its own page →

What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

A pod of dolphins passes close off the point.

dolphins · midday

The rat was accessing the flour sack area.

discovery · midday

Kevin made a sketch: "Quick cross-section of the transom repair — doubler plate, through-bolts, where ".

made · afternoon

Fruit is ripening in the woods — you can smell it before you see it.

fruit · afternoon

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

Jenny made a sketch: "With a finger, looking for a sprout that hasn't given up yet".

made · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

Jenny made a sketch: "Pattern of the sea beet leaves in the notebook".

made · night

A new project: Transom repair.

project_started · night

← Day 145 Day 147 →

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