Day 283

I’ll hit the dock first. You cover the beds—I’ll meet you back here in twenty.

walk down to the dock, grab the mallet and oak wedges from the shed, drive them into the mooring ring mortise to take up the play, then check the stern line for chafe and re-serve it if needed.

(shouting back without turning) On it.

drive the three oak wedges deep into the mooring ring mortise with the mallet, then pack the gaps with oakum from the coil on the dock box, finally snug the through-bolts with the wrench—just shy of stripping.

(calling up the path) Ring’s tight for now. Back in five—grab the spare tarp from the porch if the wind freshens past twenty.

shoulder the mallet and wrench, jog back up the path to the cottage porch, hook the spare heavy tarp off the nail, and head for the garden beds to help Jenny batten the shade cloth edges with timber strips and tool-bag weights.

Toss me the timber strips—I’ll dog the corners while you hold the cloth down.

run to the north corner, stake the lifting edge with a timber strip driven deep by the mallet, then loop a second strip over the cloth and lash it tight to the stake with sail twine from my pocket, repeat at the northeast and northwest corn

On it—grabbing the mallet and the rest of the twine.

sprint to the shed, grab the mallet and spare twine, jog back to the garden, and start driving stakes into the softened soil beside Jenny, tying off the tomato rows as the rain soaks through my shirt.

Got it—taking up the slack now.

move down the row, grabbing the twine where it’s loose, hauling it tight by hand, then wrapping it twice around each stake and tying a secure clove hitch before moving to the next, all while the rain hammers down and Jenny works beside me,

Last row coming up—hand me the stakes and twine.

jog to the shed, grab the final bundle of stakes and the twine spool, sprint back to the garden, and start driving stakes into the wet soil at the end of the bed while Jenny finishes pressing in the seeds, then run the twine along the row,

Almost there—holding the line.

reach the end of the row, yank the twine taut with both hands, loop it around the final stake, tie a quick but tight constrictor knot, then chop the excess with my pocket knife before turning to help Jenny gather the tools and head for the

Kevin — bleed fuel system at injector and check for bubbles in return line

Kevin — shut down Yanmar, pull prop, check shaft runout against the bronze sleeve with a dial gauge

It’s working loose again. Those wedges are toast. I’ll bolt it through with the longer stainless—go get the drill and the doubler plate from the shed.

walk to the shed, retrieve the 150mm stainless through-bolts, washers, nyloc nuts, and the steel doubler plate, then return to the dock mooring ring.

Hold it flush. Don’t let it shift when the bit bites.

drill pilot holes through the doubler plate and dock timber, drive the four 150mm stainless through-bolts with washers, thread nyloc nuts, and torque each to 35 Nm with the wrench.

It’s fast. Let’s get the tarp re-staked on the garden before it tears loose. Then we eat.

walk to the garden, check the tarp corners, re-stake any lifted edges with the spare rope and tent pegs, then return to the cottage.

I’ll handle the trench. Don’t want the beds swimming.

walk to the south edge of the garden, clear the drainage trench of seaweed, twigs, and sediment using the hand trowel, then return to the cottage.

I’ll be in soon. Keep the door shut tight.

finish clearing the drainage trench, then walk back to the cottage and light the wood stove.

Let it run. Might catch a forecast between squalls. Tea in two minutes.

fill the kettle from the tank, set it on the stove, open a tin of corned beef, and slice it into the cast iron skillet to fry.

Dinghy’s mooring ring’s still loose. I’ll re-seat it with oak wedges and lash it tonight. Radio insulator’s cracked—beeswax and pine resin might hold it till morning. Tom’s letter’s on the table. I’ll tuck it in the supply bag when they come.

walk to the dock, inspect the mooring ring, drive three oak wedges into the mortise, then lash the ring with new half-inch rope using a double constrictor knot.

Wedges’ll hold. I’m using oak, not cedar. Lashing it with three turns and a trucker’s hitch—won’t slip. Radio’s next.

drive the oak wedges home with the mallet, then wrap the mooring ring with the new half-inch rope, pull tight with a trucker’s hitch, and secure the tail with two half-hitches. Test it by jerking the line sideways.

Easing them in. Tap, check, tap. Not driving. Stone’s got give if you listen.

tap each oak wedge gently with the mallet, pause after each to feel for movement in the stone, then finish the lashing with the trucker’s hitch and step back to check alignment.

I’ll check the radio again at first light. If I can raise them, I’ll give ETA and ask for a noon window. If not, we prep for a delay—secure everything, run the generator, keep the tank full.

return to the cottage, check the barometer (997 hPa, falling), then tune the shortwave to the supply boat’s frequency and listen for five minutes, noting any signal or static.

Aye. I’ll batten the porch, lash the generator, and check the dinghy’s bilge. You want the headlamp?

walk to the porch, pull the spare tarp over the generator and fuel cans, batten it with timber strips and weight it with the tool bag, then check the dinghy’s bilge pump and run it dry to clear any water.

Aye. One more pass.

pick up the shortwave radio, tune to the supply boat frequency, and listen for a clear signal

I'll lay down soon. Just want to make sure the bag's ready for the post.

close the radio, stand, and walk to the supply bag by the door to verify the letter to Tom is inside and secure

Aye. Turning in.

blow out the lamp, pull the cottage door shut, and walk to the bedroom to lie down on the bunk