Day 226

The Rotting Dock

The wet season arrived with oppressive heat and shimmering air. At dawn, Kevin inspected the dinghy's starter cord while Jenny sorted sea beet seedlings under a shade cloth. "It's the humidity," Jenny said. "It's a breeding field today." She moved the trays to the kitchen table and found no fungal fuzz, eventually finishing the propagation. At the dock, Kevin found deep rot in the support planks near the main support, though the inner planks remained sound. He replaced five rotten planks with three salvaged and two newly cut pieces. "Boat's due in eight," Kevin noted. "Ring bolt moves when you lean on it." Jenny warned that the wood was too soft for a simple bolt and requested a stainless backing plate and heavy-duty bolts. During the work, a slip, a cut, or a wrenched ankle occurred. Kevin later monitored the Yanmar's idle as the tide rose. As heavy rain fell and the rain tank gained 25 litres, the tide rose. Kevin and Jenny secured the dinghy. "The tide is coming too fast, watch the bow!" Jenny called. They finished the day at the old shrine as a turtle hauled out to nest in the dark.

Scenes

the keeper's cottage · dawn

The Heat and the Hull

Kevin inspects the repaired starter cord on the dinghy while the heat shimmers off the sand. Jenny sorts the drying sea beet seedlings under the shade cloth, checking for signs of mold in the humidity.

The heat is oppressive at dawn as the air shimmers over the island. Jenny focuses on the sea beet seedlings under the porch shelter while Kevin inspects the dock's integrity before the supply boat's arrival.

🔧 Kevin07:08

Engine's ready when you are. Dock's next ebb.

Wipe hands on rag, check Yanmar oil level, scan horizon for cloud bruising.

💭 thought

Cord's holding. Splice is clean, keeper knot tight. Heat's brutal — 29 and climbing. Jenny's moving slow under the shade cloth. Good. Means she's not pushing. Means she's listening to her body. Tide's high now. Dock repair waits for the ebb. Engine test can wait for cooler air. Letter to Tom burns in my pocket. Sixteen days overdue. One sentence isn't enough.

🌿 Jenny07:08

Give me a minute. I need to check the trays for white fuzz.

Jenny leans close to the sea much trays, artworking at the soil line of the lettuce cells.

💭 thought

He's already thinking about the boat, and I'm looking at the rot. If that fungus spreads, I lose the whole batch before the supply boat even shows up.

🔧 Kevin07:10

Take your time. No rush on the engine.

Lean against the gunwale, watch the tide line on the dock pilings, wait.

💭 thought

She's thorough. Catches the damping-off early. Three pepper, two lettuce cells already bagged for burning. She doesn't need me hovering. Oil's clean on the dipstick. Level's good. Heat haze makes the horizon swim. Barometer steady at 1030 but the drop yesterday was real. Front's coming. Supply boat eight days out if it holds. Rat trap in the pantry hasn't snapped yet. Heard scratching at 0300.

🌿 Jenny07:10

It's the humidity. It's a breeding field today.

way uses a toothpick to carefully scrape a tiny patch of white mold from a lettuce cell.

💭 thought

There's always no rush when the rot is moving faster than I am.

🔧 Kevin07:12

Vent the trays tonight. Prop the cloth. I'll rig a line.

Pull the heavy weather line from the dinghy locker, measure a length for the garden frame.

💭 thought

Toothpick work. Surgical. She's saving what she can. Humidity's brutal — condensation on everything by dawn. Shade cloth traps it. Should've ventilated the trays last night. My fault. Didn't think. She's fixing my mistake without saying it. Lettuce and peppers are the weak ones. Tomatoes and basil holding. Sea beet seedlings on the porch are dry. She moved them there yesterday. Smart.

🌿 Jenny07:12

Okay. Prop them high. I'll need the extra airflow from the breeze.

way sets the tray down and opens her notebook to sketch the spread pattern of the mold on the leaf edge.

💭 thought

If I don't get air moving, the damping-off will finish what it started by tomorrow.

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the dock · morning

Midday Heat

The temperature reaches its peak as the tide begins to turn. Kevin and Jenny meet at the dock to discuss the plan for the supply boat.

Kevin inspects the structural integrity of the dock as the tide recedes, identifying deep rot in the support planks. Jenny explores the northern cliffs to look for resources or vantage points while the overcast sky thickens. The pressure remains steady.

🔧 Kevin07:14

Boat's due in eight. Ring bolt moves when you lean on it. Got three wedges driven but the mortise is eaten out. Need to sister a plate behind it, bolt through sound wood. Tide's turning — got maybe two hours before water covers the repair zone.

walk to the loose mooring ring, crouch to inspect the mortise and wedges, test the ring's movement under hand pressure

💭 thought

Eight days out if the front holds. The ring bolt's the real problem — shifts under load, and the supply boat's crane will test it hard. Need to drive the wedges deeper and sister a backing plate before they arrive.

🌿 Jenny07:15

The wood is too soft for a simple bolt. I need the stainless backing plate from the shed and the heavy-duty bolts, or the whole thing will rip out under the first swell.

Trace the rot in the mortise with a thumb, feeling the pulpy decay of the timber.

💭 thought

If that way pulls, the boat can't tie up properly, and I'm stuck here with more salt-water rot when the storm finally hits.

🔧 Kevin07:16

Backing plate and heavy bolts it is. I'll fetch them from the shed — stainless plate, the 12mm galvanized bolts we saved, and the drill. Mortise needs cleaning out first to get a flat seat.

stand, walk toward the shed at the cottage, pull the door open, scan inside for the stainless backing plate and bolt stash

💭 thought

She's right — the timber's punk. A bolt through this would just tear out. Need the plate and longer bolts to reach sound wood behind the rot. Good she spotted it; I was focused on the wedges.

🌿 Jenny07:17

Grab the chisel too! I can't get a flat seat with just a drill.

Squat down by the mooring ring and poke at the remaining rotten fibers with a fingernail.

💭 thought

He's moving fast, but he's forgetting the debris. If he doesn't clear the pulp first, the plate won't sit flush.

🔧 Kevin07:18

Chisel and mallet too.

grab a sharp wood chisel and a small mallet from the shed wall, hook the stainless backing plate and a handful of 12mm galvanized bolts with washers and nuts, turn and walk back toward the dock

💭 thought

Chisel. Right. The rot's deep — drill alone won't clean it to sound wood. Need to pare back to solid timber so the plate seats flat.

🌿 Jenny07:18

Good. The tide is dropping, so we have a small window, but don't rush the cleaning.

Stand up and wipe the grit from my palms, looking at the grey, heavy sky.

💭 thought

He's actually listening for once. But the wood is so waterlogged, I need to be careful not to split the remaining good grain.

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the dock · midday

Approaching Rain

Kevin is at the dock; Jenny is at the north cliffs.

Kevin replaced five rotten dock planks with three salvaged and two newly cut pieces, securing them with copper nails during the low tide window. Jenny inspected the sea-beet trays moved to the kitchen table and found no fungal fuzz on the leaves.

🌿 Jenny07:20

Come on, just move.

Walk quickly down the cliff path, shielding my notebook with my jacket.

💭 thought

The wind is shifting too fast; if I don't get those trays inside, the fungal three will win.

🔧 Kevin07:22

Kevin — use the crowbar to mark and pry out the three rotten planks and the two spongy ones at the dock's seaward end, working from the low-tide line inward.

💭 thought

Tide's still dropping. Got maybe forty minutes before it turns. Three planks for sure, two more if the rot goes past the stringer joint. Crowbar's the only thing getting these out clean without splitting the good wood.

🌿 Jenny07:24

Jenny — reach the cottage porch and move the sea-beet trays inside the door.

💭 thought

I can't just leave them under the shelter if the wind kicks up; the salt spray will scorch the new growth.

🔧 Kevin07:26

Kevin — lay the three sound salvaged planks and two new cuts into the dock frame, drill pilot holes, and drive copper nails to secure them to the stringers and joists.

💭 thought

Five planks out. Stringer's sound where it matters — cedar heartwood held. The two spongy ones pulled clean; rot didn't reach the through-bolts. Forty minutes of work, maybe thirty left before water kisses the joists. Need to lay the replacements and drive copper nails before the tide turns.

🌿 Jenny07:28

Jenny — set the trays on the kitchen table and inspect the leaves for white fuzz.

💭 thought

Safe for now, but my hands are shaking and cold. I need to check the fuzz before the light fails.

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the dock · afternoon

Afternoon work at dock and cliffs

Kevin is at the dock preparing to test the Yanmar on the dinghy; Jenny is at the north cliffs sketching limpet morphology.

The heavy air hangs motionless over the dock as the tide begins its slow crawl up the rotting planks. Kevin monitors the Yanmar's idle, listening for any hint of hesitation, while Jenny stands on the northern cliffs, documenting the stubborn stillness of the tidepool life.

🌿 Jenny07:31

way still, you damn thing.

sketch the internal anatomy of the limpet's mantle.

💭 thought

The salt is eating everything, even the wood of the dock, but these little creatures... they are stubborn.

🔧 Kevin07:33

Kevin — disengage gear, let engine idle while checking for leaks and vibration

💭 thought

Engine's alive. Third pull caught. Runs clean under load — prop bites, stern line holds. That's the Yanmar sorted. One less thing.

🌿 Jenny07:34

Jenny — close the notebook and stand up, walking back toward the cottage.

💭 thought

My stomach is starting to growl again. I should check the remaining tins of mackerel.

🔧 Kevin07:36

Kevin — watch the tell-tale stream, hand on the tiller, listening for any change in rhythm

💭 thought

Let it warm through. Watch the tell-tale. No water in the oil, no oil in the water. Hour on the clock before I shut her down and call it good.

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the old shrine · evening

Rising Tide and Heat

The tide is now higher, submerging the lowest sections of the rotting dock planks. Kevin signals for Jenny as she descends from the cliffs.

The warm rain drums steadily against the roof of the old shrine, the air smelling of damp earth and salt. The tide is high, lapping hungrily at the base of the dock, and the swollen timber groans under the pressure of the rising water.

🔧 Kevin07:38

Jenny — come look at the east stringer. Three planks gone, two spongy. We’ve got till slack to get the wedges in.

Point to the submerged section of dock where the cedar wedges are staged, then kneel to check the mortise for shifting.

💭 thought

The tide’s up — we’ve got minutes before the repair zone drowns. Stringer’s still sound, but those planks won’t hold much longer. Jenny’s coming down; I need her eyes on the rot, not just my gut.

🌿 Jenny07:39

I'll check the trays first. If that fuzz hits the beets, we're losing the whole harvest.

Walks toward the cottage, stepping over a slick patch of kelp.

💭 thought

If that stringer goes, the boat is stuck until the next tide and I'm too weak to fight the current.

🔧 Kevin07:40

Beets won’t drown in an hour. Dock might. Your call.

Stand, wipe hands on thighs, and walk to the staged cedar planks to begin pre-drilling copper nail holes with the brace and bit.

💭 thought

She’s choosing seedlings over the dock. Fine. The stringer can wait another tide — the wedges won’t rot in an hour. But the supply boat’s due in eight days and that ring’s shifting. I’ll prep the planks solo, drill the holes, have copper nails ready. When she’s done with the trays, we move together.

🌿 Jenny07:40

Five minutes. If I see enough, I'm helping with the wedges.

Enters the cottage and goes to the sea-beet trays on the table.

💭 thought

He's right, but the fungus moves faster than the tide. I can't lose these seedlings.

🔧 Kevin07:42

Five minutes.

Clamp the first salvaged plank to the sawhorse, set the brace bit, and drill the first pair of holes at the ends, then two mid-span, working slow and square.

💭 thought

Five minutes. I’ll take it. Pre-drill four holes per plank, countersink clean. Copper nails are soft — if I rush, I’ll bend them. Steady now. The tide’s not waiting, but neither are the seedlings.

🌿 Jenny07:42

Jenny — leans close over the sea-beet trays,inging at the undersides of the leaves for fungal growth.

💭 thought

The humidity is a trap. If I see even one speck of white fuzz, the whole batch is compromised.

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the old shrine · night

The Rising Tide

The rain intensifies, turning the evening into a heavy downpour as the tide reaches the second rung of the dock.

The tide is receding rapidly, exposing the slick rocks of the northern shelf. Kevin and Jenny are at the old shrine, the salt air thick with the humidity of the wet season. The dinghy is secured against the dock as the water level drops from the hull.

🌿 Jenny07:44

Kevin, check the lines!

Grab the sea-beet trays and move to the table.

💭 thought

The water is too high; if that way goes, the dinghy goes down with it.

🔧 Kevin07:45

On it. Holding her bow into the wind—give me slack on the stern line.

Grab the heavy-duty tarp rope from the porch coil, run a quick round turn through the dock’s mooring ring (bypassing the loose mortise for now), then take two figure-eight turns around the dinghy’s forward cleat and belay it tight to the bo

💭 thought

The dock’s under pressure—water’s up to the second rung, and the mooring ring’s already loose. If the dinghy breaks free now it’ll smash into the pilings or drift onto the rocks. I need to secure it fast, but the lines are slick and the wind’s picking up. Jenny’s moving the trays inside—good, one less thing to worry about.

🌿 Jenny07:46

Watch the cleat, it's pulling hard.

Carry the sea-beet trays to the kitchen table and check for the fuzz.

💭 thought

He's holding her for now, but that wood is screaming under the strain.

🔧 Kevin07:46

Cleat’s holding for now—I’m taking a turn around the bitt belowdecks. Keep an eye on the bow line.

Duck under the dinghy’s gunwale, pass the stern line’s working end through the forward bitt (the one bolted through the keel), then haul tight and secure with a clove hitch backed by two half-hitches.

💭 thought

The cleat’s under strain—salt’s corroded the base bolts, and with the dinghy yawing in the chop, it could rip out. I need to back it up fast before the line parts or the cleat tears free. Jenny’s inside checking the trays—she’s focused, but I can’t afford distraction. The tide’s still rising; we’ve got minutes before the water lifts the dock planks entirely.

🌿 Jenny07:48

The tide is coming too fast, watch the bow!

Move the trays to the table and inspect the mold.

💭 thought

If that bitt pulls, the whole boat is lost to the surge.

🔧 Kevin07:49

Got the bow. Slack the forward line—ease it slow.

Sprint to the bow, grab the forward spring line where it leads through the chock, surge it carefully around the samson post (solid timber, through-bolted) to take the strain off the chock, then snub it off hard with a rolling hitch and two

💭 thought

Bow’s swinging wide—the forward spring line’s singing under load, and the chafing point at the chock is glowing white in the headlamp beam. If that parts, the stern line I just secured becomes a pivot and the dinghy broadsides into the pilings. Tide’s rising faster than the barometer said; the front’s accelerated. Need to take the load off the bow chock now.

🌿 Jenny07:50

The line is holding, watch the tension!

Move the sea-beet trays to the table and check for the fuzz.

💭 thought

He's taking the weight, but the wood is groaning to the limit.

🔧 Kevin07:51

Both lines set. She’s riding easy now. Come look—water’s lapping the stringer repair.

Walk back along the dock to the stringer joint, headlamp beam cutting through rain, crouch to inspect the epoxy-seated wedges and copper-nailed planks where the tide’s now covering the repair zone.

💭 thought

The forward spring’s holding on the samson post—good. The dinghy’s settling bow-to-wind now, riding the chop instead of fighting it. Stern line’s tight on the bitt, bow’s secure on the post. The loose mooring ring on the dock isn’t in the equation anymore; we bypassed it. Tide’s still climbing but the boat’s stable. Jenny’s inside, trays on the table, eyes on the seedlings. Rain’s hammering the roof. We’ve bought ourselves the night.

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What changed

The season has turned wet.

season · dawn

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Spread pattern of the mold on the leaf edge".

made · dawn

A tree has come down across the path in the wind.

tree_down · dawn

rat control is finished.

project_done · dawn

sea beet propagation: 82%.

project · dawn

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

injury · morning

sea beet propagation: 92%.

project · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

A coconut crab has been at the garden overnight.

coconut_crab · midday

the inner planks of the dock were protected by the outer structure and remain sound

discovery · midday

sea-beet seedlings show no signs of damping-off or fungal infection

discovery · midday

Jenny made a sketch: "Internal anatomy of the limpet's mantle".

made · afternoon

sea beet propagation is finished.

project_done · afternoon

The dock planks are rotting significantly near the main support.

discovery · afternoon

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

The shortwave crackles with a voice, or static, at an odd hour.

radio_voice · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

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

turtle · night

Sea beet northern shelf cluster mapped at low tide

discovery · night

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