Day 213

The Supply Boat and the Rotten Dock

Dawn broke with a south-east wind whipping salt spray across the reef, coating the dock planks. Kevin inspected the loose mooring ring. "Ring's loose. Mortise is worn oval. Gonna sister a backing plate and drive a through-bolt. You want the limpets first or the dock?" Jenny said, "The limpets. I'm starving. And don't toss the old bolts, they might be salvage." Kevin agreed. "Aye. Limpets first. Bolts go in the keep pile."

Morning brought the tide to its peak. Kevin checked the dinghy's fuel line and secured the dock against rising water. Jenny found the tide pools too deep to forage. Midday heat found Kevin testing the Yanmar engine under load while Jenny gathered limpets and monitored fungal growth on pepper seedlings — she burned the infected trays.

Afternoon. Kevin tested the engine again. Jenny organized heirloom seeds and began a letter to Tom. Evening arrived with the supply boat on the horizon. Kevin called Channel 16: "Supply boat, supply boat, this is Sorrel Island on Channel 16. Dock's compromised — outer third rotten, stringers soft. Land stores midships only. No crane loads on the finger. Over." The boat came in fast. "He's coming in fast," Jenny said. Kevin shouted, "Jenny — back. Now. Midships only." She stood her ground: "Stay behind me, Kevin." Kevin radioed again: "THROTTLE OFF. Come to bare steerage. Land midships ONLY."

Night. Tide surged higher than predicted against reinforced pilings. "Surge hits the rot first. Knees take it after," Kevin said. "If those go, the whole jetty tilts sideways." Jenny replied, "We need to tighten them again after the boat leaves."

Scenes

the dock · dawn

Securing the Mooring Ring

The south-east wind whips spray across the reef, coating the wood of the dock in salt. Kevin inspects the loose mooring ring while Jenny prepares the pot for the morning limpets.

The south-east wind picks up, carrying a fine salt spray that stings against the dock. The tide is rising steadily, lapping at the lower dock planks. Kevin and Jenny stand by the water, preparing for the day ahead.

🔧 Kevin19:09

Ring's loose. Mortise is worn oval. Gonna sister a backing plate and drive a through-bolt. You want the limpets first or the dock?

pry up the loose ring bolt with the nail puller to assess the mortise damage

💭 thought

Ring bolt shifts half an inch under thumb pressure. Mortise is egged out — salt and cyclic loading. Needs a through-bolt with a backing plate before the supply boat's crane hits it. Tide's rising; got maybe two hours before high water makes the dock move different.

🌿 Jenny19:10

The limpets. I'm starving. And don't toss the old bolts, they might be salvage.

Drop the limpets into the boiling water and watch the steam rise into the wind.

💭 thought

The wood is too soft from the salt; if he doesn't brace it, the whole jetty will pull away in a gale.

🔧 Kevin19:10

Aye. Limpets first. Bolts go in the keep pile.

walk back to the cottage and eat limpets with Jenny

💭 thought

She's right on both. Bolts are stainless, just surface rust. Can wire-brush and reuse. Limpets first — fuel for the work. Dock holds another tide if I'm quick.

🌿 Jenny19:12

Pass the salt. This tastes like rubber and ocean.

Peel a limpet from its shell and stare at the half-weeded garden through the window.

💭 thought

He eats too fast when he's worried about the boat. He sees the rot in everything too.

🔧 Kevin19:12

Salt's by the stove. Garden's waiting on the wall. Two more courses and the wind stops stripping the tops.

hand her the salt tin and eat a limpet, watching the tide climb the dock pilings

💭 thought

She's looking at the garden again. The half-weeds. The shade cloth flapping. Eleven months and it's still a promise. I've built engines from scrap in force nines. Can't seem to build a bed of dirt.

🌿 Jenny19:14

I'll get to the wall after the boat comes. If it comes.

Salt the limpet heavily and sketch the pattern of the salt spray on the edge of the napkin.

💭 thought

I haven't even finished the first course. The weeds are winning, inch by stubborn inch.

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the dock · morning

Morning Before the Arrival

The south-east wind continues to blow, and the tide reaches its peak. The supply boat is now twenty-four hours away.

Kevin spent the morning inspecting the dinghy's fuel line and securing the dock against the rising tide. Jenny checked the tide pools for sea deets but found the water too deep and clear to forage effectively.

🌿 Jenny19:20

I can't focus on the fuel line if I'm shaking. I'm going back to the cottage for some food.

Walk away from the dock toward the cottage.

💭 thought

My stomach is cramping. I can't think straight when I'm this hungry, and the salt air is making everything feel damp and heavy.

🔧 Kevin19:20

There's corned beef and rice in the pot. Mug on the shelf.

Wipe hands on rag, check Yanmar fuel line connection one more time, then secure dinghy stern spring against the rising tide.

💭 thought

She's not shaking from cold. The wind's steady but not that cold. She's shaking from something else — hunger, or the waiting, or the thing neither of us says about the boat that might not come. I should've offered the thermos. Too late now.

🌿 Jenny19:22

Thanks.

Walk into the cottage and head straight for the stove.

💭 thought

He's still obsessing over that engine. I can't even look at him right now without feeling that tight knot in my chest.

🔧 Kevin19:22

Kevin — torque the fuel line flare nut to final spec, wipe the joint clean, watch for weep. Then coil the test hose and walk back toward the cottage.

💭 thought

She didn't look at me. Just took the direction and went. The pot's still warm from this morning — she'll eat standing at the stove, same as always when the boat's due. I'll give the fuel line five more minutes, then head up myself. The bow spring needs checking at high tide anyway.

🌿 Jenny19:24

Jenny — scoop a portion of corned beef and rice into a mug and lean against the counter to eat.

💭 thought

I hope he doesn't try to talk about the engine while I'm eating. I just need five minutes of silence and something in my stomach.

🔧 Kevin19:24

Fuel line's holding. Engine's ready if the boat shows.

Pull out a mug, ladle rice and corned beef, eat slow at the table. Watch the barometer. 1018 and steady.

💭 thought

Eating from a mug, standing up, one hand braced on the counter. She's not sitting. Won't sit until the boat's tied up or the radio says it's not coming. I know the rhythm. I've lived it eleven months. The silence between us isn't empty — it's full of things we've both agreed not to name. The letter in my pocket weighs more than the wrench set.

🌿 Jenny19:26

Good.

Eat quickly and stare out the window at the half-weeded garden.

💭 thought

He wants a gold star for doing the job he was supposed to do. I can't bring myself to care about the engine right now.

🔧 Kevin19:26

The garden's not dead. Tomatoes at true leaf. Basil too. Peppers and lettuce got the fungus — burned the trays.

Finish my portion, rinse the mug, set it to dry. Pull the notebook from my pocket, thumb to the blank page after the sea beet sketches. Pen finds the paper.

💭 thought

She's watching the garden she asked for and I didn't build. The half-weeds, the shade cloth flapping loose at one corner. She sees the failure. I see the wall I raised two courses, the beds I limed, the tomato stakes driven and twined. Neither of us is wrong. The mug clinks against the counter — she's done. Fast. Hands still not steady.

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the dock · midday

Midday Heat and Preparation

Kevin is at the dock while Jenny is at the tide pools.

Kevin spends the midday heat testing the dinghy engine under load and checking the dock for the supply boat arrival. Jenny works at the tide pools to gather limpets and monitors the fungal growth on the pepper seedling trays.

🌿 Jenny19:28

Jenny — pull the notebook from my pocket and sketch the octopus tucking itself into the crevice.

💭 thought

my back is aching from the stone, and here I am, waiting for the ocean to decide my schedule.

🔧 Kevin19:30

Kevin — walk the length of the jetty, checking each cleat and the sistered planks. Test the aft spring tension, add two more turns on the cleat, and secure the bitter end with a clove hitch and seizing. Then walk back to the cottage.

💭 thought

The new half-inch three-strand holds clean on the forward spring. Aft spring's the older rope — sound enough but I'll double the turns on the cleat. Supply boat's crane will snatch hard if the swell picks up. Barometer's steady, but that means nothing past tomorrow.

🌿 Jenny19:32

Jenny — stand up and stretch my back, then scan the pools for any remaining limpets.

💭 thought

I can't focus. I'm hungry, and the thought of that fuel line still needing work is making me twitchy.

🔧 Kevin19:34

Kevin — walk up from the dock to the cottage. Check the porch tarp lashings, tighten the guy lines on the generator cover. Stow the crowbar, file, and torque wrench in the workshop. Top off the generator oil from the can.

💭 thought

Jetty's as ready as it gets. Time to get the cottage buttoned down — secure the porch tarp, stow the tools, make sure the radio's logged and the generator's topped off. Supply boat shows, we load fast and they're gone before the tide turns.

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the dock · afternoon

The Supply Boat Prep

The sun begins to dip as the tide reaches its lowest point. You and Jenny meet at the dock to prepare for tomorrow's arrival.

Kevin tests the Yanmar engine under load while at the dinghy to ensure everything holds up before the supply boat arrives. Jenny spends the afternoon organizing the heirloom seeds and begins a draft of the letter to Tom.

🔧 Kevin19:36

Low water. Let's walk the piles.

walk the length of the dock, probing each pile with the crowbar where the waterline hits

💭 thought

Tide's out. Good. Can see the rot in the pilings now. Tomorrow's the test.

🌿 Jenny19:36

Watch the one near the cleat. It sounds hollowed out.

I press the crowbar into the rotten timber, testing the resistance of the wood.

💭 thought

These planks are softer than wet cardboard; if one goes, the whole jetty comes down when the boat hits the swell.

🔧 Kevin19:38

Sister it tonight. Two sound cores, through-bolted. Crane hits that cleat hardest.

pull the sound planks we stacked, measure and cut sisters for the hollowed pile, stage bolts and washers at the cleat end

💭 thought

She's right. That's the one the crane loads onto. If it goes, the whole finger pier goes with it.

🌿 Jenny19:38

I'll get the drill. We need to pilot the way through the core first.

I turn toward the cottage to retrieve the heavy-duty drill and the box of bolts.

💭 thought

If we don't reinforcement this now, the supply boat will tear the dock right off the pilings own.

🔧 Kevin19:40

Box on the shelf by the vice. Ten mil bits, two twenty mil washers per bolt. Nylocs in the red tin.

start notching the sisters to fit the pile flare, crowbar braced against the next sound timber for leverage

💭 thought

Drill's in the workshop. She knows where. Good.

🌿 Jenny19:40

I'll grab the nylocs too. Don't let me lose them in the sand.

I reach for the red tin and the drill, my stomach twisting with the hunger.

💭 thought

He's right about the nylocs; the salt will eat anything else in a week.

🔧 Kevin19:42

Tin snaps shut. Pocket the spares.

drive the first sister home with the sledge, checking plumb against the level line strung from the cleat

💭 thought

She's hungry too. We both are. Work first, eat after.

🌿 Jenny19:42

I'm starting the first core now.

I press the drill bit to the wood and pull the trigger, the whine echoing through the quiet bay.

💭 thought

He's moving so fast for someone that tired. way arms feel like lead.

🔧 Kevin19:44

Second bolt thirty mil up. Stagger the shear planes.

position the second sister on the opposite face, clamp it tight with the F-clamps, start the top bolt by hand to feel the thread catch

💭 thought

Bit's biting clean. Good steel. She holds it straight.

🌿 Jenny19:44

Got it. Thirty mil.

I measure the distance with my thumb and drive the second pilot hole through the sister and the pile.

💭 thought

Staggering the shear... right. If they're aligned, the wood just splits along one grain line.

🔧 Kevin19:46

Through-bolt both faces. Washers both sides. Don't crank the nylocs past finger-tight plus a quarter.

feed the galvanized rod through the first hole, tap it home with the hammer, spin a washer and nyloc on the far end

💭 thought

Two bolts per sister, four total. That'll carry the crane load if the core holds.

🌿 Jenny19:46

I've got the second one.

I slide the bolt through, slide the washers on, and tighten the nyloc with a measured, steady twist of the wrench.

💭 thought

Quarter turn. Just enough to seat it without crushing the fiber.

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the dock · evening

The Supply Boat Arrival

Kevin and Jenny stand at the dock as the sun dips. The silhouette of the supply boat appears on the horizon.

Kevin tests the Yanmar engine under load to ensure it is ready for the supply boat's arrival tomorrow. Jenny organizes the heirloom seeds and works on the letter to Tom while the air remains heavy.

🌿 Jenny19:48

He's early. Get the dinghy ready.

Wipe my oily hands on my trousers and step toward the edge of the jetty.

💭 thought

It's actually coming. I hope the planks don't give way under the weight of the crates.

🔧 Kevin19:49

Engine's warm. Stern line's the new splice — three-strand half-inch, served with twine. Holds.

step to the dinghy, untie the reinforced stern line from the dock ring, coil it neat aboard, check the forward spring's fast, then hold the gunwale steady for Jenny

💭 thought

Supply boat's early. Good. Means the skipper's running ahead of weather. Dinghy's engine mounted, fuel line sealed, prop shaft true — ran clean under load this morning. Just need to cast off the stern line and fender her alongside.

🌿 Jenny19:50

Watch the edge. The wood is soft today.

Step onto the center timber, balancing my weight as I watch the boat's approach.

💭 thought

If the boat hits the dock too hard, those rotten planks will snap. I need those seeds and the fuel.

🔧 Kevin19:50

Aye. Outer third's rot. I'll raise him on the radio — tell him to land stores midships or not at all.

climb back onto the dock, walk to the radio shack at the cottage, key the handset on Channel 16

💭 thought

She's right — the sistered planks flex under her boot. The rot goes deeper than the surface. Skipper'll have his crane hook swinging; if he drops a pallet on the outer third, the stringers go. Need to warn him on the radio before he commits.

🌿 Jenny19:52

Tell him the dock is failing.

Grab the crowbar and stand by the dinghy, ready in case we have to ferry the crates.

💭 thought

way better listen. If that jetty goes, the whole shipment is lost to the surf.

🔧 Kevin19:52

Supply boat, supply boat, this is Sorrel Island on Channel 16. Dock's compromised — outer third rotten, stringers soft. Land stores midships only. No crane loads on the finger. Over.

hold the handset, wait for reply, eyes on the boat's bow cutting the grey

💭 thought

She's not wrong. The sistered knee held the tide, but crane weight's a different beast. Skipper needs to know before he swings iron over rotten timber.

🌿 Jenny19:54

Hope he's listening.

Wave a hand at the boat, squinting against the glare on the water.

💭 thought

He's close now. If he doesn't see the signal, the whole thing goes into the water.

🔧 Kevin19:54

He's reading it. Watch his bow — he'll come in slow if he's smart.

set the handset down, walk back to the dock, stand beside Jenny with hands on hips, watching the approach

💭 thought

Boat's close enough now — skipper's at the wheelhouse window, glass reflecting the dying light. He's seen the dock. Whether he heard the radio or reads the timber himself, he'll make his call. Jenny's got the crowbar ready. Good. If he can't land clean, we ferry. Dinghy takes two in a following sea if you know the boat. I know the boat.

🌿 Jenny19:56

He's coming in fast.

Step toward the center of the jetty, feeling the wood groan under my boots.

💭 thought

He better be smart. If he hits the end, the wood will splinter like dry bone.

🔧 Kevin19:56

Jenny — back. Now. Midships only.

grab her upper arm, pull her toward the shore end of the dock, plant myself between her and the incoming bow

💭 thought

He's not slowing. Either he didn't hear, doesn't believe, or his schedule's tighter than our timber. Bow wave's building. If he hits the finger at that speed with the crane swinging, the whole dock goes — and us with it if we're standing on the rot. Jenny's on the center timber. I need her off the outer end.

🌿 Jenny19:58

Stay behind me, Kevin.

Brace my weight over the center timber, watching the boat's hull approach the gap.

💭 thought

If those planks go, the seeds are going to the bottom with them.

🔧 Kevin19:58

You're on the rot. Move.

shove her shoulder — hard — toward the shore end, then turn and sprint for the radio shack to scream on Channel 16

💭 thought

She's bracing on the center timber — the only sound wood for six feet either way. Stubborn as a seized bolt. The boat's doing five knots easy, no sign of throttle-off. Skipper's either mad or running from something worse behind him. Bow's going to kiss the rotten planks hard. If the stringers snap, the crane hook swings free with a ton of stores. I'm not losing her to a dock I knew was failing.

🌿 Jenny20:00

Stop! Look at the dock!

Drop to a crouch on the center plank, pressing my palms to the wood to feel the vibration, eyes on the boat's bow cutting the swell.

💭 thought

He's too close. If he doesn't veer now, the whole jetty is gone.

🔧 Kevin20:01

Supply boat — Sorrel Island. You hit the finger at this speed, you lose the dock, the stores, and us. THROTTLE OFF. Come to bare steerage. Land midships ONLY. Over.

key the handset, shout into it, eyes on the boat's bow through the window

💭 thought

She's feeling the dock talk — vibration through the soles, the way the timber sings before it breaks. Smart. The bow's closing fast, wake slapping the pilings. If the stringers hold one more impact, we offload midships. If they don't, the finger pier folds and the crane hook takes the cottage wall. I'm at the radio shack door. Handset's hot in my grip.

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the dock · night

Waiting for the Boat

The tide has risen high against the pilings. The morning light is breaking over the grey horizon.

The tide has reached its peak, lapping high against the reinforced pilings of the dock. Kevin and Jenny stand at the edge of the jetty, watching the steady trade wind and the horizon for the supply boat's arrival.

🌿 Jenny20:02

The tide is coming in fast today.

Walk to the edge of the jetty and scan the horizon for the silhouette of the hull.

💭 thought

If that boat doesn't show up, I'm going to lose my mind to the salt.

🔧 Kevin20:03

Aye. Higher than predicted.

Walk to the bow spring cleat and check the line tension and chafe point where it leads through the fairlead.

💭 thought

She's right — this tide's running higher than the charts said. If the supply boat comes, the crane's going to put weight on those sistered planks before I've checked the tell-tales at high water.

🌿 Jenny20:04

Better watch those rotten planks if the surge catches them.

Adjust the tension on the dinghy line to keep it from rubbing the dock.

💭 thought

It's always higher than the charts say when I'm anxious.

🔧 Kevin20:04

Surge hits the rot first. Knees take it after.

Crouch at the seaward end of the dock, sight along the new planks where they're sistered to the sound cores, looking for any tell-tale movement or opened joints as the swell pushes under.

💭 thought

She's seen the same thing I have — the surge hitting the rot before the sistered knees take the load. Good she's on the dinghy line; I'd have missed it till it wore through.

🌿 Jenny20:06

If those go, the whole jetty tilts sideways.

Run a hand along the edge of the new wood, feeling for vibration or flex.

💭 thought

I hope the epoxy holds; I don't have the energy to rebuild this thing twice.

🔧 Kevin20:06

Mm. Bolts on the seaward bracket are the weak link.

Press my palm flat against the seaward bracket where it bolts through the piling, feeling for any flex or vibration as the next swell pushes under the dock.

💭 thought

She's not wrong. The whole finger pier hinges on those two planks. If the surge finds the gap between sister and core, the lever arm on the seaward piling is enough to snap the bracket bolts.

🌿 Jenny20:08

We need to tighten them again after the boat leaves.

Lean weight against the bracket to see if it groans.

💭 thought

The bolts are holding for now, but the salt eats everything eventually.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Pattern of the salt spray on the edge of the napkin".

made · dawn

Yanmar fuel line is finished.

project_done · dawn

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "Octopus tucking itself into the crevice".

made · midday

A new project: letter to Tom.

project_started · afternoon

letter to Tom: 20%.

project · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

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

injury · night

letter to Tom: 30%.

project · night

← Day 212 Day 214 →

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