Day 235

Grab the spade. I'll get the fork.

walk to the garden shed and pick up the spade leaning against the wall

Watch the wall footing. I'll work from the channel side.

step out into the rain and move to the north drainage channel, positioning myself on the garden bed side to avoid stressing the wall

I'll skim the top layer with the fork. You keep the spade low.

insert the garden fork just below the surface and gently lift to loosen the silt without disturbing the underlying stones

I'll check the outlet. Keep going.

walk down the channel toward the seaward outlet, fork in hand

Hand me the bucket when it's full. I'll clear the mouth.

reach the outlet and begin probing with the fork to dislodge debris without damaging the stone lip

Fork's not cutting it. Need the spade or a bar.

walk to the garden shed for the spade

Kevin — grab the heavy spade from the shed and kneel beside her at the outlet, driving the blade into the channel wall to start a relief trench

Kevin — brace the garden wall with my shoulder and hip, using the spade to chip at the packed silt from below, keeping the outlet edge stable as Jenny widens the flow path

Kevin — keep bracing the wall, spade ready to catch any slump, watching the water start to pull the slurry toward the sea

Kettle's hot if you want another cup.

walk to the stove and lift the kettle lid, checking the water level

I’ll be out back if you need me. Gonna check those mounts.

pull on the oilskins, grab the tool roll from the shelf, and step out into the rain toward the dinghy on the beach

Won't be long. Just cracking the bolts.

reach the dinghy, drop to one knee in the wet shingle, and spray penetrating oil on the four engine mount bolts while the rain hammers down

(nothing — focused on the bolt)

pull the small propane torch from the tool roll, flick it on, and play the flame over the bolt head for ten seconds, then try the ring spanner again with steady pressure

(grunting as I turn the bolt) Almost got this one.

apply steady pressure to the ring spanner, feeling the bolt break free, then spin it out the rest of the way by hand and set it aside on the gunwale

Jenny, the rain’s up and the tide’s hitting the pilings. I’m going to double the stern lines and add a spring to keep the dinghy from pounding the dock.

walk to the dock, grab the spare half-inch three-strand rope and sail twine, then reinforce the dinghy’s stern line with a long splice and serve it tight, adding a second stern spring line to the mooring ring.

Aye. Spring takes the snatch, stern line holds the station. I'll wrap the chafe points with the canvas offcuts.

tie a heavy weather spring from the dinghy's aft cleat to the dock's seaward bollard with a round turn and two half hitches, snug it drum-tight, then wrap the contact points on the gunwale and dock edge with the heavy canvas offcuts and sei

Just checking the ring’s holding — last thing I need is it working loose in a blow. Be in in a minute.

grab the crowbar and lever the dock’s mooring ring side-to-side to test for play in the mortise, then drive two cedar wedges deeper into the gap on the landward side to take up any slack before the wind builds.

Aye. Ring’s seated, lines are fast. I’m coming in — put the kettle on, I’ll take the chill off my hands.

release the dock lines just enough to step aboard, then jump onto the dock and hurry up the porch steps into the cottage, shaking rain from my hat and jacket before hanging them by the door.

Thanks. This hits the spot.

pull the straight-backed chair close to the stove, sit down, and cradle the warm mug in both hands, letting the heat seep into my palms while I watch the rain blur the south window.

Jenny, I’m going to work on the dinghy mounts. Won’t be long.

walk to the dinghy, inspect the cracked neoprene mounts on the transom, remove the old rubber with a knife, clean the bolt holes with a wire brush, fit the new neoprene mounts, torque the bolts to 35Nm, then step back and check alignment.

Won't. Got a rag in my pocket.

wipe the mount bolts and transom faces clean with a rag from my pocket, torque the four bolts to 35Nm in a cross pattern, double-check alignment with a straightedge across the engine feet, step back and eye the shaft runout.

Seated. Running true. I'll test it after the limpets.

walk back to the cottage porch, wipe hands on the rag, hang it on the nail by the door, pull out the journal from the shelf, flip to the page with Tom's letter, uncap the pen.

I'm not going in the water. Just writing.

write in the journal: 'I'm sorry we let it go this far.' under the date, fold the page once to seal the words, slide it into the waterproof radio box on the shelf, close the lid.

I'll check the wood way. Then fire her up.

walk to the dinghy, crouch and sight along the engine mounts and transom wood for any gap or shift, run a finger along the bolt heads to confirm they're seated, stand and pull the choke, crank the starter — engine turns over clean, catches

Engine's running clean. No vibration at idle. I'll give it throttle in a minute.

let the Yanmar warm at idle for thirty seconds, hand on the tiller, ear on the exhaust note, then ease the throttle to half — watch the mounts, feel the transom, listen for shake

Holding at half. Taking it up.

advance throttle to three-quarter, eyes on the engine feet, hand braced on the gunwale feeling for vibration through the hull, count ten seconds, then push to full throttle — hold it, watch, listen

Go ahead. Low power first—just a call sign and wait. If there’s nothing, we’ll try again at dawn.

watch Jenny adjust the dial, key the mic, and speak softly into the receiver.

Try again in two minutes. Same frequency, same format.

reach for the notebook and write down the time and frequency we’re using, just in case we get a reply.

Good. Wait for the full two minutes. Don't rush the gap.

pour a cup of coffee and set it in front of her without a word, then sit back and listen to the static with her.

(quietly) You’re doing it right.

keep my eyes on the radio dial, tracking the frequency, ready to note any shift in the noise.