Day 17

Mast Step Split and Seeds in Ground

Dawn found Kevin and Jenny at the dock, the spruce mast step split and the air thick with humidity. The barometer kept dropping. Kevin mixed epoxy in the shed, but the moisture prevented it from curing. He decided to cut a hardwood tenon from the quarter-sawn oak offcut and through-bolt it instead. "Humidity's too high. Epoxy won't set proper," he said. Jenny planted the viable tomato and pepper seeds in the garden before the rain arrived. "I'll get the food ready. Just... don't spend all morning in there. We need those seeds in the ground before the weather turns," she told him.

Heavy rain drove them inside. Kevin pried open a waterlogged crate on the dock at high tide, noting the current didn't set that way this time of year. "The crate didn't wash up. It was placed," he said. Jenny insisted he eat. "Look at the plate, Kevin. I spent an hour on those." He ate boiled limpets and sea beet. "Smells better than epoxy."

The tide receded, exposing slick rocks. Kevin organized tins, hands smelling of resin and salt. Jenny worked the garden soil in the heavy air. A rat had gotten into the pantry. Evening brought another meal of limpets and sea beet. The epoxy had failed. "If that spar splits under load, the wind generator goes over the side," Jenny said. Kevin outlined the fix: oak tenon, proper mortise, two days' work. "I'll come with you. I want to see the fit before you commit to the cut," she said. She fetched the tenon saw and marking gauge. The rain tank gained twenty-five litres. Engine test under load reached eighty percent. Heirloom seed separation finished. Dinghy mast step repair stood at sixty percent.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

Mast Repair and Engine Prep

Kevin and Jenny stand by the dinghy on the dock where the spruce mast step is split. The air is heavy with humidity, and the barometer continues its slow drop as they prepare the epoxy and clamps for the repair.

Kevin worked in the shed to address the mast step split while the humidity remained high. Jenny successfully planted the viable seeds in the garden and prepared a meal of limpets. The dropping air pressure suggests the rain is approaching quickly.

🔧 Kevin11:36

Humidity's too high. Epoxy won't set proper. Need to cut a hardwood tenon from the oak offcut in the shed and through-bolt it.

walk toward the shed to get the oak offcut and tools

💭 thought

The barometer's still dropping. Epoxy won't cure in this humidity — I knew it yesterday, knew it the day before. Should've cut the oak tenon when I had the chance. Now the split's breathing under every gust and we're wasting time on a repair that won't hold.

🌿 Jenny11:36

I'll get the food ready. Just... don't spend all morning in there. We need those seeds in the ground before the weather turns.

Walk back toward the cottage with the limpets and sea beet.

💭 thought

He actually sees it. He's not denying the physics. I can breathe for a second, but the hunger is starting to make me shaky.

🔧 Kevin11:38

Won't be all morning. Seeds go in after.

enter the shed and locate the oak offcut, handsaw, chisel, drill, and through-bolts

💭 thought

She's right about the seeds. Tomato and pepper packets are the only viable ones left and they need planting today. But if the mast step fails in the next blow, the dinghy's useless and so is the wind generator spar. Both need that oak tenon.

🌿 Jenny11:38

Jenny — enter the cottage and put the limpets and sea beet on the stove.

💭 thought

I hope he's right about the timing. I can't let those seeds sit in that tin for another hour.

🔧 Kevin11:40

Kevin — retrieve the oak offcut from the shelf, set up sawhorses, and begin laying out the tenon dimensions against the mast step split

💭 thought

Oak offcut's on the high shelf — dry, quarter-sawn, perfect for a doubler. Need to rip a tenon to fit the mortise, drill bolt holes, epoxy and bolt it through the split spruce. Two hours if I don't rush the fit.

🌿 Jenny11:40

Jenny — stir the limpets and sea beet in the pot.

💭 thought

The smell of the sea beet hitting the heat is making my stomach ache. I need to eat, then the seeds.

🔧 Kevin11:42

Kevin — saw the tenon cheeks and shoulders, then chisel the waste clean for a tight friction fit

💭 thought

Good oak. Dense, straight grain. Mark the tenon shoulders to match the mortise depth — thirty mil, no more. Cut clean so the doubler seats full against the spruce faces. Drill three bolt holes, staggered. Epoxy the faces, drive bolts, clamp tight. Let it cure while the seeds go in.

🌿 Jenny11:42

Jenny — plate the limpets and sea beet and set them on the table.

💭 thought

He's working fast. If he finishes the tenon now, I can get the peppers and tomatoes in the soil while the glue—or the bolts—do their job.

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the keeper's cottage · morning

The Rain Arrives

The first heavy drops fall against the cottage roof as you meet inside to escape the deluge.

Kevin worked on the dinghy mast step, but the high humidity prevented the epoxy from curing effectively. Jenny managed to plant the remaining viable tomato and pepper seeds in the garden before the clouds thickened the sky.

🌿 Jenny11:44

The rain is here. We need to look at the mast before it gets darker.

Set the plate of boiled limpets on the table and point toward the kitchen.

💭 thought

The barometer is going down fast, and he's still holding that waybar like it's a shield.

🔧 Kevin11:45

Eat first. Five minutes. Then we look at it together.

sit at the table and start eating the limpets

💭 thought

She's right. The mast step won't fix itself, and this rain will only make the humidity worse for the epoxy. But I'm hungry, my hands are shot, and the limpets smell good.

🌿 Jenny11:46

I'm not hungry. Just... look at the plate, Kevin. I spent an hour on those.

Sit slowly across from him, staring at the limpets without touching them.

💭 thought

I can't eat when I'm this anxious. The mast is the only thing that matters right now.

🔧 Kevin11:46

Kevin — pick up a limpet, eat it slowly, watching her face

💭 thought

She's not hungry but she spent an hour cooking them. That's not about food. She's angry or hurt or both, and the limpets are the shape of it. I should've noticed before I sat down.

🌿 Jenny11:48

Five minutes. I'm counting.

Lean back in the chair and cross my arms, watching him eat.

💭 thought

He's doing that thing. The silence. He thinks if he ignores the tension, it'll just evaporate like the dew.

🔧 Kevin11:48

You didn't answer me yesterday. About the crate. About what was in it.

keep eating, one limpet at a time, not looking away

💭 thought

She's timing me. Five minutes for a meal she made that she won't touch. The rain's getting heavier on the roof. The mast step's breathing worse with every hour of this humidity. My forearms throb. She wants something from me and I don't know what it is.

🌿 Jenny11:50

It was just provisions, Kevin. Tinned food and canvas. Nothing that changes the fact that the spruce is splitting.

Push the plate of limpets a few inches toward him.

💭 thought

He's deflecting. He knows the mast is a problem, so he's digging into the crate to change the subject.

🔧 Kevin11:50

The crate didn't wash up. It was placed. Current doesn't set that way at this time of year.

finish the last limpet, stand up, wipe hands on a rag

💭 thought

She's deflecting. The crate had corned beef and coffee — things we needed, things that don't wash up in a waterlogged crate by accident. She knows that. She also knows I know that. But she's right about the spruce. The mast step split is the real problem, and it's getting worse. I can feel it in my hands from this morning. The epoxy's still tacky. The tenon's loose. Another storm like yesterday and the dinghy loses its rig entirely.

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the dock · midday

Approaching Rain

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

Kevin used the crowbar to pry open the waterlogged crate on the dock while the high tide threatened to lap over the planks. Jenny successfully planted the viable tomato and pepper seeds in the garden before the humidity made the work unbearable.

🌿 Jenny11:52

Jenny — walk back toward the cottage to get the limpets and sea beet.

💭 thought

Please hold. Just stay put and grow. I can't lose these too.

🔧 Kevin11:54

Kevin — crouch down and press my palm flat against the wet timber of the jetty, feeling how much give the rotten planks have

💭 thought

Water's higher than yesterday. Swell pushing right up under the jetty planks — those rotten two won't take many more tides. Should've replaced them last week when the weather held.

🌿 Jenny11:56

Jenny — set the pot of limpets and the chopped sea beet on the table.

💭 thought

I'm starving and my hands are shaking. I need to eat before I try to talk to Kevin about that mast.

🔧 Kevin11:58

Kevin — stand up straight, roll my shoulders back, and walk the length of the jetty to the dinghy, testing each plank with my boot before committing weight

💭 thought

Nothing's changed. Still damp, still heavy. The epoxy in the mast step is going to stay tacky until we get a proper dry spell — if we get one. My forearms ache from the clamps yesterday. Waste of time and good epoxy.

🌿 Jenny12:00

Kevin? Lunch is ready. Come in for a bit.

walk to the door and call out toward the dock.

💭 thought

The silence is getting too heavy. If I don't tell him about the split now, I'll just keep sketching it in my head until it breaks.

🔧 Kevin12:02

Kevin — untie the painter, step into the dinghy carefully, and start bailing with the plastic scoop, watching the waterline on the mast step split

💭 thought

Dinghy's sitting lower than it should. Rain's been filling it — tarp shredded in the squall. Need to bail it before the water stains the new oak tenon I haven't cut yet. Mast step's still breathing. Can see the hairline crack opening and closing with each small wave against the hull.

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the dock · afternoon

The Tide Recedes

Kevin is at the dock while Jenny is at the garden.

The tide is receding, exposing the slick rocks of the lower pools. Kevin has finished organizing the tins on the dock, his hands smelling of resin and salt from the mast repair. Jenny is at the garden, struggling with the heavy humidity as she prepares the soil for the seeds.

🔧 Kevin12:04

Kevin — wipe down each tin with my shirt sleeve, check the seams and lids for rust pitting, set them in a dry row on the dock planking

💭 thought

Six cans of corned beef, a jar of coffee — seals intact on all of them. The water didn't get inside. That's something.

🌿 Jenny12:06

Jenny — tighten the twine securing the shade cloth to the stakes, then walk toward the cottage to get the limpets and sea beet.

💭 thought

The soil is barely damp. If the rain comes now, it'll be a deluge, not a soak. I hope the cloth keeps them from being flattened.

🔧 Kevin12:08

Kevin — gather the six corned beef tins and coffee jar, carry them up the path toward the cottage

💭 thought

Crate's empty now. Tide's turning proper — water pulling back, showing the weed line. Should get these tins up to the cottage before the gulls decide the coffee jar's a toy.

🌿 Jenny12:10

Jenny — set the bowl of boiled limpets and chopped sea beet on the outdoor table and call out toward the dock for Kevin.

💭 thought

I can't eat another bite of something that tastes like a salt lick. I need to get Kevin away from the dock and look at that mast before he thinks it's "good enough."

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the dock · evening

Evening at the tide

The tide is at its lowest point, leaving pools of trapped fish and seaweed exposed. The air is still and heavy.

Kevin attempted to repair the dinghy mast step, but the high humidity prevented the epoxy from curing properly. Jenny successfully salvaged the viable tomato and pepper seeds and planted them in the garden. They ate boiled limpets and sea beet together as the tide began to turn.

🔧 Kevin12:12

Kevin — walk to the tide pools with the crowbar

💭 thought

Tide's turned. Low water means the pools are accessible — limpets, maybe crabs, small fish trapped in the rock basins. Good window before it floods back. Hands are shot from the epoxy work but the crowbar's still in my grip. Might as well use it.

🌿 Jenny12:12

Kevin! Leave the iron behind. Come eat before the food gets cold.

Lean against the jetty piling and gesture toward the cottage.

💭 thought

He's still carrying that crowbar. He doesn't know how to just walk without a tool in his hand. I'm starving, and the limpets are sitting there getting cold.

🔧 Kevin12:14

Coming.

set the crowbar down on the dock planking and walk toward the cottage

💭 thought

She's right. The limpets are already boiled. Coffee's probably made. Crowbar can wait on the dock — it's not going anywhere. Hunger's been gnawing since midday.

🌿 Jenny12:14

I hope you're hungry. The sea beet is salty, but the limpets are actually decent.

Walk toward the cottage, following a few steps behind him.

💭 thought

Good. Now, let's see if he's actually in the mood to talk or if he's just going to stare at the wall.

🔧 Kevin12:16

Smells better than epoxy.

walk into the cottage and sit at the table

💭 thought

Salt's good. Means minerals. Means we're not starving. She cooked — that's something.

🌿 Jenny12:16

It's better than the smell of moldy seeds, too.

Bring the pot of limpets and the bowl of sea beet to the table and set them down.

💭 thought

At least we agree on the smell. Now, do I tell him about the mast while he's eating, or wait until he's full and less likely to snap?

🔧 Kevin12:18

The tomato and pepper went in. That's something.

pick up a limpet with the small fork and pull the meat free

💭 thought

She's still on the seeds. Can't blame her. Weeks of sorting, drying, hoping — and most went to mold anyway. She doesn't say much but I see her checking the tins every morning.

🌿 Jenny12:18

It's a start. But we have a bigger problem. The spruce mast—the epoxy didn't cure. There's still a split at the step.

Sit down across from him and look him directly in the eyes.

💭 thought

He noticed. He's paying attention, even if he's not saying much. Now's the time.

🔧 Kevin12:20

Noted.

eat the limpet and reach for another

💭 thought

She's not wrong. The spar's meant to hold the wind generator. If that split gives under load, we lose the mast, the genny, maybe the battery bank. Humidity's been the enemy all along — epoxy needs dry air to cross-link. We've had nothing but wet.

🌿 Jenny12:20

"Noted" isn't a plan, Kevin. If that spar splits under load, the wind generator goes over the side.

Push the bowl of sea beet slightly toward him, my movements stiff.

💭 thought

"Noted"? That's it? It's a structural failure, not a grocery list. He's shutting me out again.

🔧 Kevin12:22

Oak offcut in the shed. New tenon. Proper mortise. Two days work.

take a bite of sea beet, chew slowly

💭 thought

She wants a plan. Fair. The oak offcut in the shed — dry, dense, been seasoning since we arrived. Could cut a new tenon, mortise it proper. Takes a day, maybe two with hand tools. But the spar's already up there, lashed temporary. Taking it down means unstepping the mast, lowering the genny. Risk in this weather. Front's stalled. Wind'll pick up.

🌿 Jenny12:22

Two days. We can afford that, as long as the weather holds.

Take a slow bite of a limpet, chewing thoughtfully.

💭 thought

He's not denying it. He's already calculated the labor. I expected a fight, but this quiet efficiency is almost worse.

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the keeper's cottage · night

Evening meal and rising tide

Kevin and Jenny sit at the wooden table, the smell of boiled limpets still lingering in the small room.

The rain continues steadily against the roof as the tide rises against the dock. Jenny successfully plants the viable tomato and pepper seeds in the garden while Kevin struggles with the stubborn epoxy curing process in the high humidity.

🌿 Jenny12:24

These limpets were actually decent. But we need to talk about the spruce.

Push the bowl of limpets toward him and lean forward, resting my elbows on the table.

💭 thought

I'm starving, but the silence is heavier than the hunger. I can't let the mast just be a 'hint' anymore.

🔧 Kevin12:24

Epoxy didn't cure. Split's still breathing.

pick up the cold tea she brought earlier, blow across the surface, set it back down untouched

💭 thought

The limpets sit heavy in my stomach. She wants to talk about the spruce — the mast step, the spar, the wind generator that still isn't turning. The epoxy's still tacky. The split's still open. I knew it when I clamped it. Knew it yesterday. Knew it the day before. Humidity's not letting go.

🌿 Jenny12:26

If it's still breathing, the lashing is the only thing keeping it from snapping. We can't risk the generator on it.

Reach for the notebook and flip open to a blank page, sketching a quick, sharp diagram of the split at the mast step.

💭 thought

He knows. He's not ignoring it, he's just... stalled. The "breathing" is the worst part; it means the wood is moving.

🔧 Kevin12:28

Oak offcut in the shed. Can cut a new tenon. Day's work, maybe two.

stand, wipe hands on thighs, move toward the door to the shed

💭 thought

She's right. The lashing held through the squall but it's rope on wet wood — stretches, slips, rots. The generator's weight and torque will snap that spar like a matchstick. Need oak. There's an offcut in the shed, seasoned, been there since before we arrived. A day's work to cut a new tenon, fit it proper. But the supply boat's due in seven days. If the front stalls again...

🌿 Jenny12:28

I'll come with you. I want to see the fit before you commit to the cut.

Stand up quickly and follow him toward the door.

💭 thought

He's actually doing it. No arguing, no pretending it'll just 'set' eventually. I can breathe for a second.

🔧 Kevin12:30

Oak's on the high shelf. Quarter-sawn. Bring the step ladder.

push open the shed door, duck under the lintel, pull the chain for the bare bulb

💭 thought

She wants to see the fit. Good. Second pair of eyes catches what I miss when I'm stubborn. The shed's damp, smells of old rope and creosote. Oak's on the high shelf — quarter-sawn, no knots I could see last time. Need the tenon saw, the chisel, the marking gauge. And the big clamp.

🌿 Jenny12:30

On it.

Walk back into the main room and drag the aluminum step ladder over to the shed.

💭 thought

Quarter-sawn is the right call; it won't warp on us. I just hope the shelf hasn't sagged under the weight.

🔧 Kevin12:32

Here. Pass me the tenon saw and the marking gauge off the middle shelf.

climb the ladder, haul the oak down, set it on the workbench, blow dust off the end grain

💭 thought

Light cuts through the dust. Shelves sag under decades of shore debris — paint cans with rusted lids, coils of wire, a block plane with a nicked blade. The oak offcut sits top left, grey with age, end grain sealed with wax. Heavy. Dense. Good. I reach up, fingers brushing the underside, testing weight. It'll hold.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

A rat has gotten into the pantry.

rat · dawn

A new project: dinghy mast step.

project_started · dawn

engine test under load: 70%.

project · dawn

heirloom seed separation: 75%.

project · dawn

dinghy mast step: 20%.

project · morning

heirloom seed separation: 85%.

project · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

dinghy mast step: 30%.

project · midday

dinghy mast step: 40%.

project · afternoon

heirloom seed separation: 95%.

project · afternoon

engine test under load: 80%.

project · evening

heirloom seed separation is finished.

project_done · evening

dinghy mast step: 50%.

project · evening

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

Jenny made a sketch: "Quick, sharp diagram of the split at the mast step".

made · night

dinghy mast step: 60%.

project · night

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