Day 368

Morning. Kettle on?

walk to the back porch and fill the kettle from the rain tank, set it on the wood stove

Aye. Oak wedges are by the door, mallet in the workshop. I'll get them staged.

walk to the porch, collect the four vertical-grain oak wedges and the mallet, set them by the dock steps

Under the porch roof then.

move the wedges and mallet under the covered porch, lean them against the wall out of the rain

I'll get the kettle going. You want me to check the ring while the tide's coming in?

Fill the kettle from the tank tap and set it on the stove beside her pot.

Just looking. If the ring shifts I'll know before the boat arrives.

Pull on oilskin jacket and boots, step out onto the porch toward the dock.

Aye.

Walk down the slick porch steps to the dock, testing each plank. Stop at the mooring ring. Crouch and examine the four through-bolts, the doubler plate, the oak wedges driven vertical-grain.

Wedges splitting?

Grip the mooring ring with both hands and heave upward, testing for play. Watch the doubler plate and bolt heads for movement.

Ring's solid. Bolts are carrying it. Wedges can split all they want.

Release the ring. Walk the dock length, testing each piling base with a boot heel. Probe the south piling where the greenheart shim sits.

Aye. I'll check the porch lines and the garden corners after we eat. You stay off that ankle.

eat a few bites of corned beef and sea beet, then push back from the table and pull on oilskin jacket

South corner's on the list. Wedges first, then the wall.

finish the last of the sea beet, wipe hands on a rag, and step out onto the porch into the rain

Won't. Back in ten.

pull the porch door shut behind me and stand under the overhang, watching the garden wall's south corner where the tarp flaps hard

Stakes are set. Ground's the problem.

step back inside, shake off the oilskin, and fetch the contact cleaner and wire brush from the tool chest

Deadman's next after the wedges. Tide's right for the ring now.

set the contact cleaner and brush on the table, grab the mallet and the four vertical-grain oak wedges from under the porch, and head for the dock

Tank's full. Generator's topped up. Solenoid's still holding.

push the tin toward her with the fork, then reach for the kettle to top up the mugs

Ankle still hot?

pour hot water into both mugs, set one in front of her without asking

Stay in the cottage tomorrow. I'll run the north ridge check.

sit down opposite her, blow across my own mug, watch her hands on the ceramic

It'll keep. Put a cold pack on it after.

reach over and close the notebook gently, slide it away from her tea mug

The salt glands aren't going anywhere. Your ankle might.

stand, go to the cool box, pull out the cold pack wrapped in cloth, bring it back and set it on the table beside her mug

Water's hot. Let it draw.

pull a clean towel from the shelf and set it on the table beside her, then lift the kettle and top off the basin with a slow pour so the heat stays even

Six days. The glands aren't going anywhere. Your ankle might.

set a mug of coffee on the table beside the notebook, steam rising, and pull the other chair out to sit — close enough that my shoulder brushes hers when I lean forward to check the swelling

Didn't say you weren't.

take the mug back, blow across the rim, and drink half in one swallow — letting the silence sit while the radio ticks static in the corner

Salt's in the jar by the stove. Water's in the tank.

rise, go to the wood stove, lift the lid and drop in a split of dry spruce — the flare lights the jar on the shelf — then fill the kettle from the tap and set it on the hot plate without a word

Kevin — sweep the scattered salt into my palm and pour it into the basin myself, then pick up the kettle and top off the water slow — steam rising, the smell of iron and sea beet thickening the air

Aye. High slack in twenty minutes.

Add another split of spruce to the stove and top off the kettle from the tank tap.

It's at 975. Climbing two millibars an hour since noon.

Glance at the barometer on the shelf above the radio, then pull the notebook from my pocket and flip to the tide table page.

Ring's holding. Wedges drove deep at low. Doubler plate's bolted through greenheart. She'll take the surge.

Set the notebook down on the table. Walk to the porch door and pull it open, stepping out onto the boards to scan the dock and the dinghy's lines in the rising water.

Back in a minute. Checking the forward spring.

Walk down the dock toward the dinghy, moving careful on the wet planks, and crouch at the bow cleat to inspect the chafe point where the line runs over the gunwale.