← Days

Day 323

Rot and Rising Water

Dawn pressed humid and heavy against the dock pilings as the tide receded. Kevin checked the tension on the north piling shim. "Shim's tight at the toe. Want eyes on the mortise before the water covers it again." Jenny stood beside him. "Check the south side too, the wood looks soft near the waterline." Kevin moved to the south piling. "Aye. South side next." He found a loose splinter. "Watch out for that splinter, the wood looks like it's honeyed," Jenny said. Kevin pulled it free. "Splinter's loose. I'll nip it off before it breaks free and cuts deeper." He probed the wood beneath. "It's soft. You need to check the shim again tomorrow morning." "First ebb. I'll be here."

Dawn pressed humid and heavy against the dock pilings as the tide receded. Kevin checked the tension on the north piling shim. "Shim's tight at the toe. Want eyes on the mortise before the water covers it again." Jenny stood beside him. "Check the south side too, the wood looks soft near the waterline." Kevin moved to the south piling. "Aye. South side next." He found a loose splinter. "Watch out for that splinter, the wood looks like it's honeyed," Jenny said. Kevin pulled it free. "Splinter's loose. I'll nip it off before it breaks free and cuts deeper." He probed the wood beneath. "It's soft. You need to check the shim again tomorrow morning." "First ebb. I'll be here."

Jenny returned to the cottage. "I'll start the limpets. I'm starving." Kevin fetched wood. "Fire needs feeding. I'll get wood while you set the pot." "Don't use too much, we need it for tomorrow." Water boiled. Kevin checked the shim again. "Shim's holding. Rot's tracking higher though." Jenny nodded. "I'll watch it."

Limpets cooked. "There you go, little stubborn thing," Jenny said. "Smells good," Kevin said. "Limpets done?" "Just finished. The shells are a bit stubborn." "They're always stubborn. That's why they're still there." "It's the only way."

Midday passed unrecorded. By afternoon the tide was fully out, exposing slick dark rocks in the southern pools. Heat hung at 30°C with a light onshore breeze. The barometer kept dropping.

Evening brought thicker air and a falling pressure. Jenny dried heirloom seeds. Kevin inspected the dock mooring ring — loose but stable. A rat had gotten into the pantry. They ate. Kevin wiped penetrating oil from his hands and set down the mallet. Jenny gathered her notebook. "You should be in bed." "In a minute." The supply boat was due tomorrow. The storm would come after.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The Pressure Before the Storm

Kevin and Jenny stand on the dock as the humid air presses heavy against the pilings. Kevin checks the tension on the north piling shim during the receding tide while Jenny prepares the pot for the collected limpets.

Kevin and Jenny inspect the dock as the tide begins to rise. Kevin identifies a loose splinter on the north piling and finds the wood beneath is soft and decaying, while Jenny returns to the cottage to begin cleaning the collected limpets for their meal.

🔧 Kevin05:49

Shim's tight at the toe. Want eyes on the mortise before the water covers it again.

Crouch at the north piling, scrape marine growth from the shim face with the nail puller, sight along the copper plate and oak wedge for movement or fresh rot.

💭 thought
Tide's dropping. Good. Need to see the shim at low water — check if the kerf's holding or if the rot's chewed deeper since the last surge. Shim held last time, but that was neaps. This is a spring cycle, different pressure.
🌿 Jenny05:51

Check the south side too, the wood looks soft near the waterline.

Jenny taps the glass of the barometer, notes 1028 hPa, and pulls out her notebook to sketch the salt glands on a sea beet leaf she dried yesterday.

💭 thought
The pressure is dropping too fast; if that boat doesn't show tomorrow, we're stuck with a gale and no dry wood.
🔧 Kevin05:52

Aye. South side next.

Walk the dock to the south piling, crouch at the waterline, probe the timber with the nail puller tip, checking for soft spots and measuring any movement at the shim.

💭 thought
She's right. South piling takes the prevailing swell. Rot moves faster on that face. Barometer dropping — 1028 and falling. Not fast, but steady. Weather's coming.
🌿 Jenny05:53

Watch out for that splinter, the wood looks like it's honeyed.

Jenny kneels on the edge of the dock, keeping her weight off her ankle, and watches the tide line creep back up the pilings.

🔧 Kevin05:53

Splinter's loose. I'll nip it off before it breaks free and cuts deeper.

Reach with the nail puller, grip the splinter at the base, and twist it cleanly out of the piling, then feel the wood beneath for give or crumble.

💭 thought
Honeyed wood — early stage rot, cellulose gone, lignin holding just enough to look solid. Splinters like glass. Don't want a sliver in the thumb; it'll fester in this damp.
🌿 Jenny05:55

It's soft. You need to check the shim again tomorrow morning.

Jenny wipes a smudge of grit from her palm, watches the rising water, and opens her notebook to sketch the salt structure of the sea beet salt glands.

💭 thought
The air is getting heavy enough to swallow, and the barometer is lying to me.
🔧 Kevin05:56

First ebb. I'll be here.

Wipe the nail puller clean on a rag, tuck it into the belt loop, and walk back toward the cottage with Jenny, favoring the sound planks.

💭 thought
She's right. South piling's soft at the waterline — rot's tracking up behind the shim face. Tomorrow's low tide is first light. Need to be here before the water rises, drive a new wedge if the mortise has opened. Barometer's still falling. Weather'll make the surge worse.
🌿 Jenny05:57

I'll start the limpets. I'm starving.

Jenny follows him to the way, the weight of the seed tin pressing against her hip, and watches the grey sky thicken over the island.

💭 thought
If the boat doesn't come, we're going to be out of salt and hope.
🔧 Kevin05:57

Fire needs feeding. I'll get wood while you set the pot.

Turn toward the woodshed, grab the axe from the block, and split two armfuls of dry spruce from the rack, stacking them beside the stove door.

💭 thought
She's moving slow, favoring the ankle. Seed tin's heavy — she's been carrying it since dawn. Limpets need a good boil to tenderize. Fire's low; need to split kindling before the rain hits.
🌿 Jenny05:59

Don't use too much, we need it for tomorrow.

Jenny enters the cottage, fills the pot with water, and sets it on the stove, beginning to scrub the grit off the limpets she collected.

💭 thought
He's so focused on the wood while the dock is literally rotting under us.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · morning

MORNING, DAY 323

The smell of salt and brine fills the kitchen as the water begins to boil. Outside, the wind picks up slightly as the tide laps higher against the dock pilings.

Kevin inspected the north piling shim and the dock mooring ring, finding the shim secure but rot progressing, and the ring loose but stable. Jenny boiled limpets, sketched the sea beet salt glands, and discovered a rat in the pantry.

🌿 Jenny06:00

Water's boiling.

Drops the limpets into the boiling water and watches the steam rise.

💭 thought
I'm so hungry I can barely focus, but these limpets need to be clean or they'll taste like sand.
🔧 Kevin06:02

I'll check the shim real quick—be back before they overcook.

walk to the north piling at low tide mark, inspect the shim and surrounding wood for movement or rot, return to cottage when done.

💭 thought
The limpets are in the pot now—good. I should check the north piling shim before the tide gets too high, but I can't leave the stove unattended. Maybe I can do both: keep an eye on the water while I step out quick.
🌿 Jenny06:02

Don't take too long.

Picks up the notebook and starts a sketch of sea beet salt glands while waiting for the water.

💭 thought
If that shim is shifting, I'm going to have to reinforce it myself before the boat comes.
🔧 Kevin06:03

Kevin — walk to the dock, crouch at the north piling where the shim was driven, feel for movement with my hand on the piling base while the tide laps at it, check the shim's position and the wood above for fresh rot.

💭 thought
Tide's coming in fast. Need to see if the greenheart shim's still holding under the piling toe before the water covers it. The copper plate and oak wedge took the last surge, but rot tracks upward. If it's shifted, the whole north side goes.
🌿 Jenny06:04

Jenny — sharpens a pencil, focusing on the crystalline structure of the salt glands in the sketch.

💭 thought
The wood is softer than it looked last week. If the surge hits hard, that shim is going.
🔧 Kevin06:04

Shim's holding. Rot's tracking higher though.

return to the cottage, step onto the porch, pull the door shut behind me.

💭 thought
The piling feels solid under my palm—no give, no shift. The greenheart shim's still seated tight, copper plate flush. But the rot line's crept another half-inch up the heartwood since last week. Smell it in the wet cut: iron and creosote. Shim's holding for now, but the piling's living on borrowed time.
🌿 Jenny06:05

I'll watch it.

Drains the hot water from the pot and begins to peel the shells off the limpets.

💭 thought
way? Figures. I'll need to find some extra wood before the boat arrives.
🔧 Kevin06:06

Kevin — walk to the dock mooring ring, crouch down, grip the ring and try to shift it side to side and up and down, feel for play in the mortise, check the oak wedges and bronze sleeve for movement or splitting.

💭 thought
She's got the limpets draining now. I should check the mooring ring while I'm out here—see if the vertical-grain oak wedges are still tight. Last thing we need is the dinghy breaking loose before the supply boat.

Open this scene on its own page →

the dock · midday

Midday Work and Discovery

Kevin is at the dock, Jenny is at the keeper's cottage.

No narrator was available, so nothing about this stretch was recorded.

🔧 Kevin06:08

Kevin — walk back toward the cottage, checking the garden tarp corners as I pass

💭 thought
Ring's holding. Oak wedges and bronze sleeve did their job. Rot's still creeping up the north piling though — another season and that shim won't be enough. Need to sister that piling proper before winter.
🌿 Jenny06:11

There you go, little stubborn thing.

Eat the boiled limpets with a pinch of salt while watching the barometer drop.

💭 thought
One seed is finally in the dirt. If the soil is too acidic, at least I know why it failed.
🔧 Kevin06:12

Kevin — climb the steps to the cottage porch, wipe boots on the mat, push the door open

💭 thought
Tarp's still battened down. Tomatoes look good. Peppers and lettuce took a hit from the damping-off but the basil and most tomatoes are clean. Jenny's ankle — she's not limping as bad today. Antibiotics working.
🌿 Jenny06:15

Jenny — way the salt water from the table and walk toward the north piling.

💭 thought
The light is changing. I need to check that shim again before the tide gets too high.
🔧 Kevin06:16

Smells good.

hang the oilskin on the peg, pull out the chair opposite her, sit down

💭 thought
Kitchen smells of boiled limpet and corned beef fat. Jenny's at the table with the seed tin, back to the window. Radio's quiet on the shelf. Barometer steady. Letter to Tom still in my pack by the door.
🌿 Jenny06:19

Jenny — kneel on the damp sand and run a hand along the north piling shim.

💭 thought
The wood is groaning louder today. I need to see if the shim is actually holding.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · afternoon

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

The tide is fully out, exposing the slick, dark rocks of the southern tide pools. The humid air is heavy with 30°C heat, though a light onshore breeze carries a hint of salt. The barometer continues to drop, signaling a shifting front.

🔧 Kevin06:24

Limpets done?

Walk into the kitchen, lift the pot off the wood stove, set it on the trivet.

💭 thought
The tide's rising. Need to get the limpets off the stove before they turn to rubber, and check if Jenny's ankle is holding after the lancing. The letter to Tom sits in my pack — still needs to go out with the supply boat tomorrow if it shows.
🌿 Jenny06:25

Just finished. The shells are a bit stubborn.

drains the limpets into a bowl and reaches for the salt.

💭 thought
He's so hungry he'd eat the wood off the stove.
🔧 Kevin06:26

They're always stubborn. That's why they're still there.

Pull two chipped enamel mugs from the shelf, wipe the rims with a thumb, set them on the table. Spoon limpets into each — three, four, five per mug. Push one toward her.

💭 thought
She's moving okay on the ankle. Good. The antibiotics are doing their job.
🌿 Jenny06:27

It's the only way.

sits down, takes the mug, and picks a small limpet off the shell.

💭 thought
He thinks it's a choice. It's just biology.
🔧 Kevin06:28

You resting it later?

Pick up my own mug, blow across the hot limpets, eat one slow. Watch the steam curl up between us.

💭 thought
She's quiet. Not her usual self. The infection's taken more than just the ankle — it's in her shoulders, the way she holds herself. I should say something, but words feel thick today.
🌿 Jenny06:29

Maybe. I need to check the radio first.

takes a bite of the limpet, salty and chewy, and chews slowly.

💭 thought
If I stop, I'll never get back up.
🔧 Kevin06:31

Aerial's been iffy. Might need to wiggle the connection at the mast base.

Finish the limpets, set the empty mug down. Wipe fingers on a rag. Walk to the radio shelf, flip the power switch. The tubes glow amber.

💭 thought
The radio. Right. Weekly check-in with the trust. And the supply boat's due tomorrow — if the barometer's lying and the gale holds off. I should've checked the aerial insulator after the storm. The spare's installed but the coax is old. Could be water in the line.
🌿 Jenny06:32

I'll check it after I eat.

reaches for the radio dial, listening for the static to clear.

💭 thought
If the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I need that signal to work.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening before the supply boat

The tide begins to turn inward, and the breeze cools slightly as the pair prepares for the boat's arrival.

The air thickens as the pressure drops further, signaling the approach of a wet season storm. Jenny prepares the heirloom seeds for final drying, while Kevin checks the dock integrity ahead of the supply boat's arrival.

🔧 Kevin06:32

Boat due tomorrow, but I'll keep the radio on just in case it's early. You want tea or just rest?

walk to the radio shelf, turn the shortwave to the supply boat frequency, and listen for any sign of approach while Jenny eats.

💭 thought
The tide's turning — supply boat should be due soon. Jenny's still quiet after the limpet boil, but she's eating. I can feel the hunger in my gut, weak and hollow. Barometer's steady at 1036, but the sky's thickening — storm's holding off, for now. I need to get that letter off if the boat comes. Tom's not gonna read it unless it gets to the postmistress. And I still haven't checked the Yanmar vibration on the dinghy like I meant to today. One thing at a time.
🌿 Jenny06:33

Just the tea. I'm tired.

Eat a boiled limpet from the bowl while watching the barometer needle sink further.

💭 thought
The pressure is dropping too fast for a calm arrival; I hope the boat brings more than just more storm clouds.
🔧 Kevin06:34

Tea's on. I'll put the kettle on the stove. After, I'll take the dinghy out for a quick engine check — just to be sure she's ready if we need to move fast.

fill the kettle with rainwater from the tank, set it on the wood stove, and while it heats, grab the oars and walk down to the dock to untie the dinghy.

💭 thought
She's tired — more than just from the day. That ankle's still troubling her, even if she won't say. Barometer's sinking now, not steady — dropping fast. Storm's closer than I thought. Supply boat might not make it through. If it doesn't, the letter waits. But if it does, I gotta be ready to row out. First, tea. Then check the Yanmar — promised myself I'd test it under load today. Can't let the engine go soft when we might need it.
🌿 Jenny06:35

Don't go too far, the tide is already turning.

Pick up the rusted seed tin from the table and trace the dent in the metal with my thumb.

💭 thought
If he's checking the engine now, he's worried about the swell as much as I am.
🔧 Kevin06:37

Just a quick run up and back. Test the prop under load. Won't leave the channel.

untie the dinghy's stern line, step in, ship the oars, and row out to clear water before dropping the throttle to test the Yanmar at half, then three-quarter throttle.

💭 thought
She's right — tide's flooding quick now, and the wind's shifting. The chop'll build in the channel. I won't go far — just enough to load the engine, see if the vibration's truly gone. The shim held on the north piling, the ring's solid with the oak wedges. Dinghy's the only way off this rock if the boat comes and the sea's up. She's watching that tin like it holds something she can't name. Maybe it does. I'll be back before dark.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · night

Evening before the storm

The wind picks up as the first drops of rain hit the thatch. You wait for the supply boat's signal tomorrow.

Kevin and Jenny walked from the dock to the cottage kitchen. Kevin wiped penetrating oil from his hands and set down the mallet. Jenny gathered her notebook and pencil and followed him inside.

🔧 Kevin06:37

Kevin — walk to the dock with the bronze sleeve, oak wedges, mallet, and penetrating oil. Work loose the corroded bolts on the mooring ring just enough to shift it, then drive the bronze sleeve into the mortise with the mallet, seating it deep and

💭 thought
The rain’s coming in sideways now, and the barometer’s still falling. If the supply boat doesn’t make it through tomorrow, we’re on our own for longer than planned. I need to secure the mooring ring before dark — oak wedges won’t hold, but the bronze sleeve might, if I can get it seated right. Jenny’s asleep inside, fever broken but weak. I won’t wake her. Not yet.
🌿 Jenny06:39

Okay, then. Tomorrow.

Tighten the bolts against the new sleeve and wipe the oil from my hands.

💭 thought
If the boat doesn't come, I'll have to plant them anyway, despite the salt.
🔧 Kevin06:39

You should be in bed.

Wipe the penetrating oil from my hands on a rag, set the mallet down on the dock planking, and turn toward the cottage without pressing her to go back inside.

💭 thought
She’s not asleep. She heard me moving. Of course she did — floorboards creak, door sighs, the rain on the roof doesn’t cover anything. She’s standing there in the porch light, pale but upright, ankle wrapped, eyes clear. Tomorrow she’ll say. Like there’s a tomorrow that isn’t this one.
🌿 Jenny06:41

In a minute.

Gather the notebook and the pencil, then follow him into the kitchen.

💭 thought
He's right, my eyes are heavy and the rain is coming.

Open this scene on its own page →

What changed

3 intentions for today.
plan · dawn
×2
Jenny made a sketch: "Salt glands on a sea beet leaf she dried yesterday".
made · dawn
Jenny made a sketch: "Salt structure of the sea beet salt glands".
made · dawn
dock piling rot monitoring: 70%.
project · dawn
north piling shim monitoring: 60%.
project · dawn
Jenny made a sketch: "Sea beet salt glands".
made · morning
A rat has gotten into the pantry.
rat · morning
a rat has gotten into the pantry
discovery · morning
Kevin and Jenny ate.
meal · morning
No model answered — the scene closed quietly on its own.
quiet_transition · midday
dock piling rot monitoring: 80%.
project · afternoon
north piling shim monitoring: 70%.
project · afternoon
A tangle of driftwood and flotsam has washed up on the beach.
driftwood · evening
dock piling rot monitoring: 90%.
project · evening
north piling shim monitoring: 80%.
project · evening
Kevin and Jenny ate.
meal · evening

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

←→
✕

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