Day 254

Barometer’s at 998 and falling. Wind’s due to shift southeast by noon. We’ve got six hours before it hits.

stand up, brush cedar dust from my knees, and walk to the end of the dock to check the mooring ring’s play with my hand.

I’ll check the forward spring. You take the aft.

walk aft along the dock, crouch at the forward spring cleat, and haul on the line to test its bite and the piling’s give.

Hold it. I’ll drive a stake behind the cleat. You keep tension.

sprint to the cottage, grab the sledge and a two-metre length of angle iron from the workshop, and run back to the aft cleat.

Aye. Wind’s backing east-northeast. Let’s get the dock lines tight before it lifts.

walk to the dock mooring ring, grab the heavy wrench from the cottage workshop, and begin tightening the through-bolts on the steel doubler plate securing the ring in the mortise.

Noted. Just taking the slack out.

ease off the wrench, snug each bolt just until the doubler plate seats firm without compressing the rotted mortise further, then step back and check the ring for play.

Barometer’s under 998 and falling. Wind’s backing — squall’s on us. Let’s secure the dinghy and batten down.

run to the dinghy, cast off the stern line from the dock, then pull the painter tight to the mooring ring using a round turn and two half-hitches, ensuring the bow points into the wind and the engine is tilted up to avoid swamping.

Good. I’ll see to the tarp and generator.

sprint to the garden, grab the corners of the heavy-duty tarp flapping over the seed beds, and re-stake them deep using the spare wooden stakes from the shed, then run to the porch and ratchet down the generator’s storm lashings, checking t

Under 995 now? Wind’s coming hard — let’s get below and ride it out.

sprint back to the cottage, throw the door open, and help Jenny pull the sea beet and remaining supplies inside, then slam and bolt the door shut against the rising wind.

Kevin — walk to the radio mast on the porch roof, inspect the insulator and coax cable for damage.

Aye. I’ll secure the tarp and check the mooring.

Walk to the garden, inspect the tarp corners and re-stake any that have lifted; then check the dinghy stern line and forward spring at the dock.

Oak wedges this time. Deeper mortise.

Walk to the workshop, check the scrap pile for oak offcuts; cut three wedges if stock allows.

Aye. Forward spring first, then fenders. You want the bow or the stern?

walk out the porch door and down the dock to the dinghy

Pre-drilled this time. Longer bolts, steel doubler. Won't split the mortise.

step into the dinghy, uncoil the half-inch three-strand from the forward cleat, and pay out a spring line to the seaward piling, wrapping it twice and cleating it off with a round turn and two half hitches

Fenders next. Port side — two big ones, one at the widest beam, one aft of the transom.

reach into the dinghy's locker, pull out the two cylindrical fenders and their lanyards, hang them over the port gunwale at the beam and transom quarter, and knot the lanyards to the stanchion bases

Right. Mooring ring now. You hold the ring steady from the dinghy side — push it flush against the mortise face. I'll drive shims and bolt the doubler.

walk back up the dock to the workshop, grab the heavy wrench, mallet, and the three remaining cedar shims, return to the mooring ring, and kneel to drive the first shim into the gap at the top of the mortise

Holding. Driving shims now.

drive the first cedar shim deep into the top of the mortise with the mallet, then the second at the bottom, third at the side, checking the ring stays true after each blow

Plate's on. Starting bolts by hand.

lift the steel doubler plate over the cedar shims, align the holes with the mortise, and thread the first 150mm stainless through-bolt with washer by hand, followed by the second, third, and fourth, leaving them all finger-tight for now

Kevin — pour a cup of weak coffee from the pot on the stove, set it down beside Jenny’s chair without a word, then step outside to the porch and lean on the rail, watching the tide flats stretch out gray and glistening under the low sky.

Barometer's been falling since noon. Got time yet.

Step back inside, pull the tin of corned beef from the shelf, open it with the key, and set it on the table beside her notebook with a fork. Don't sit. Just stand there, one hand on the back of the empty chair, watching the pencil move.

Eat first. Then draw.

Take the fork, spear a piece of corned beef, and hold it out to her. Not forcing it. Just there. My voice low, like we’re in the wheelhouse during a squall—short, no room for argument.

Dock ring needs wedging before the swell builds. Back in an hour.

Turn and walk out the door, down the porch steps, across the garden path to the dock. Pull the heavy wrench and the oak wedges from the tool bag. Crouch at the mortise, pry the ring up, drive the first wedge in hard with the mallet.

Already did. Doubled the stern spring, chafe gear on the bow. Ring held when I leaned on it.

Walk to the porch door and crack it open, listening to the wind direction while checking the barometer on the shelf.

Right.

Pull the door shut and latch it, then move to the radio shelf to check the aerial lead where it passes through the wall grommet.