Day 396

Pressure Drops, Ankle Burns

Dawn found the barometer at 982 hPa and falling. Kevin watched the mercury drop while Jenny sat with her ankle elevated, heirloom seed packets spread on paper to dry. The air inside hung heavy with the scent of thickening clouds.

Kevin ran the Yanmar at idle — cutless bearing clean, shaft lock holding, no vibration. He reinforced the dock mooring lines, then made the 0800 radio call on Tom's frequency. Only a news fragment came through: Ukraine striking a Russian data centre. Jenny changed her ankle dressing, applied fresh antibiotic cream, rewrapped the brace, and checked the seed tin. Packets drying well, no new moisture.

At the kitchen table, Kevin prepared the next antibiotic dose and a mug of water. Jenny had her notebook open to sea beet sketches. The shortwave sat powered on, tuned to Tom's frequency. Cloud cover had thickened to a low grey ceiling. The air was still.

Midday: Kevin peeled back stuck gauze from Jenny's ankle wound. Hot, tight skin, signs of infection. He cleaned and re-dressed it, gave her the next antibiotic dose with water. Jenny checked the seed tin — seeds damp but viable, no clumping.

Afternoon: Kevin returned from the dock. Yanmar ran clean at idle, no bearing vibration. Jenny had sorted seed packets, burning the moldy basil. Shortwave battery charged, aerial insulator shattered but receiving. Barometer read 978 hPa and falling. Rain drummed on the roof. Pressure stabilized slightly at 980 hPa, but air remained heavy and humid. Tide pushed hard against the dock. Wind shifted northeast, carrying the scent of rain.

Evening: First heavy drops struck the tin roof. Barometer began to dip again. Kevin tested the Yanmar at idle to check shaft and bearing vibrations. Jenny rested while her ankle was dressed with a fresh dose of antibiotics.

Night: Heat clung at 28°C. Kevin applied antibiotic cream to Jenny's swollen ankle, skin hot and tight under his touch. Jenny finished the limpet broth, salt and fat providing a small warmth. They sat in silence save for the low hum of the radio equipment.

Scenes

the keeper's cottage · dawn

The Pressure Dips

Kevin watches the barometer as the mercury drops steadily past 982 hPa. Jenny sits with her ankle elevated, watching the heirloom seeds spread out on paper. The air inside is heavy with the scent of the thickening clouds outside.

Kevin ran the Yanmar at idle and confirmed the cutless bearing runs clean with no vibration and the shaft lock holds. He returned to the cottage, reinforced the dock mooring lines, and made the 0800 radio call on Tom's frequency but received only a news fragment about Ukraine striking a Russian data centre. Jenny changed her ankle dressing, applied fresh antibiotic cream, rewrapped the brace, and checked the heirloom seed tin — the packets are drying well with no new moisture.

🔧 Kevin04:27

Barometer's dropping. Going to run the Yanmar at idle, check the cutless bearing while I can. You need the dressing changed and fluids before I'm on the radio.

check the Yanmar cutless bearing vibration at idle and confirm shaft lock holds

💭 thought

Barometer's still falling. 982 and dropping. She's watching the seeds like they're the only thing that matters. Her ankle's hot — I can feel it from here. Need to change that dressing before the antibiotics run out completely. And I need to be on Tom's frequency at 0800. Three hours from now.

🌿 Jenny04:27

I'll do it now. way... don't be too long on the engine.

unroll the old poultice, clean the infection with saline, and apply a fresh layer of antibiotic cream.

💭 thought

If the pressure keeps falling, the boat won't make it through the swell. My ankle feels like it's melting.

🔧 Kevin04:28

Won't be long. Half hour at most.

walk to the dock and start the Yanmar at idle, listening for cutless bearing vibration and checking shaft lock

💭 thought

She's doing it herself. Good. Means she's got the strength. But she said "way" not "wait" — voice cracking. Fever's taking more than she'll admit. Yanmar first. Then radio. Then back to her.

🌿 Jenny04:29

way watch the water. The tide is coming.

wrap the ankle in clean gauze and secure it with the ankle brace.

💭 thought

The engine noise is the only thing drowns out the pulsing in my leg. I hope the salt stays dry.

🔧 Kevin04:31

Tide's high. I see it. Back before the turn.

start the Yanmar at idle on the dinghy, hand on the shaft coupling to feel for cutless bearing vibration, confirm the shaft lock holds

💭 thought

Tide's high already. She's watching the water through the window while she wraps her own ankle. Hands steady but slow. The brace is clean — she remembered. Good. Yanmar's waiting.

🌿 Jenny04:31

hurry back. The sky is getting too dark.

lean back against the pillow and close my eyes, listening to the engine fade.

💭 thought

The vibration of the engine is steady, unlike the heat in my skin. I need to keep these seeds dry.

🔧 Kevin04:33

Running clean. Shaft's solid. Securing the dock lines, then the radio.

shut down the Yanmar, walk back to the cottage, check and reinforce the dock mooring lines against the falling barometer

💭 thought

Engine's running smooth at idle. Shaft lock holds — no walk on the coupling. Cutless bearing's quiet, but that's at no load. Underway it'll tell the real story. Three hours to 0800. Need to secure the dock lines against the coming wind, then get on the radio.

🌿 Jenny04:35

You're back. The air smells like rain already.

reach for the seed tin to check the seeds for any sign of damp.

💭 thought

The silence after the engine is heavier than the noise itself. My ankle is throbbing in time now.

🔧 Kevin04:35

Radio at 0800. Tom's frequency. Then your next dose.

sit at the shortwave, power it up, tune to Tom's frequency and call at 0800

💭 thought

She's checking seeds with one hand, the other pressed against her thigh where the fever sits. Dock lines held — doubled the stern spring, chafed the bow line but it'll take another tide. Barometer's at 979 now. Dropping three in the hour. Storm's closer than the supply boat. Radio first. Then her antibiotics. Then the garden tarp if the wind backs northeast.

🌿 Jenny04:37

I'll remember.

open the seed tin and check the heirloom packets for moisture.

💭 thought

He talks about schedules like the boat will actually show up in the next decade.

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the keeper's cottage · morning

Morning antibiotics and radio watch

Kevin and Jenny are at the kitchen table. The shortwave sits powered on, tuned to Tom's frequency. Kevin prepares the next antibiotic dose and a mug of water. Jenny has her notebook open to the sea beet sketches. Outside, the cloud cover has thickened to a low grey ceiling, and the air is still.

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

🔧 Kevin04:37

Antibiotics first. Then water. All of it.

Set the pill and mug on the table beside Jenny's notebook, then pull out the chair opposite her and sit, one hand resting on the radio's warm casing.

💭 thought

The silence from the radio is heavier than static. Three calls, three hours, nothing but a stranger's voice reading war news. Tom's out there — he has to be. The barometer holding steady at 982 doesn't match the sky. Something's building.

🌿 Jenny04:39

I know, Kevin. I'm taking them.

(Jenny reaches for the pill, her fingers trembling slightly, and takes it with a long swallow of water while keeping her eyes on the sketch of the sea beet's salt way.)

💭 thought

He's looking at the ankle like it's a project that's failing. I just need to get through the week without the seeds molding in the tin.

🔧 Kevin04:39

Good. The metronidazole's the last strip. Three days. You keep them down, we're through the worst.

Reach over and brush a thumb across the back of her hand, brief and rough, then pull back and turn the radio's volume knob up a notch.

💭 thought

The tremor in her fingers isn't from the cold. She's been pushing through the ankle, the fever, the sketches, the silence from the radio. The salt gland drawing is precise — she sees what matters even when her hands won't hold still.

🌿 Jenny04:41

I'll try.

(Jenny pulls her hand back to adjust the notebook, tracing the intricate veins of the sea beet leaf with a pencil pencil.)

💭 thought

Three days until the boat. If the swelling doesn't hold, I can finally get to the garden without limping.

🔧 Kevin04:41

0900 in twenty minutes. I'll call again.

Stand, walk to the porch door, and scan the sky over the garden — grey ceiling, no wind, the tomatoes motionless under shade cloth.

💭 thought

She won't say it hurts. Won't say she's scared. She'll trace salt glands until the pencil snaps or the fever breaks. The radio hisses — ionosphere or distance or both. Tom's frequency. My brother's voice. Neither here.

🌿 Jenny04:43

I'll be ready.

(Jenny shifts her weight, wincing as the ankle pulls, and reaches for the seed tin to check the heirloom packets for dampness.)

💭 thought

He's always checking the clock now. I'm checking the pulse in my ankle.

🔧 Kevin04:43

The tins are drying fine. I checked at first light. Leave them.

Cross the kitchen in two strides, catch her wrist before she lifts the lid, and guide her hand back to the table.

💭 thought

She's checking seeds with a leg going septic and a fever climbing. The packets matter more than the pain. I should've built that garden wall higher. Should've finished the sensory beds. Should've answered Tom's last letter before I shipped out.

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the keeper's cottage · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

Kevin peeled back the stuck gauze from Jenny's ankle wound, revealing hot, tight skin with signs of infection. He cleaned and re-dressed it, then gave her the next antibiotic dose with water. Jenny checked the seed tin and found the seeds damp but viable, with no clumping.

🌿 Jenny04:47

Jenny — sit on the porch steps, unwrap the ankle brace to inspect the swelling, and open the seed tin to check for damp.

💭 thought

The rain is picking up again, and my ankle is throbbing in time with the drops. I need to look at these seeds before I lose the light.

🔧 Kevin04:47

How's it look?

Walk up to the porch steps, wipe hands on trousers, and crouch down beside her to see the ankle and the seed tin.

💭 thought

She's checking the ankle again. Good — means she's tracking it herself now, not just letting me do it. The seed tin's been drying well but this rain's relentless. Need to see what she finds.

🌿 Jenny04:49

Hot. And the skin is tight.

Touch the edge of the bandage with a wince, then ripple the seeds in the tin to check for any clumps.

💭 thought

It's redder than yesterday, and I don't have the energy to explain how much it hurts.

🔧 Kevin04:49

Right. Let's get the dressing off proper, flush it clean, and put fresh cream on. Then you're taking the next dose with a full mug of water.

Settle on the step beside her, pull the first aid kit from my pocket, and set out antiseptic wash, antibiotic cream, clean gauze, and fresh wrap.

💭 thought

Hot and tight skin over the wound — that's not good. Could be the infection flaring again or just inflammation from the lancing. Either way, she needs the antibiotics down her and fluids up. The seeds rattling loose is a good sign, means the drying's holding.

🌿 Jenny04:51

Just be quick.

Lean back against the stone, wincing as the old way sticks to the wound, and watch his hands while I hold the seed tin.

💭 thought

He's being too gentle, but the heat in my skin is unbearable. If this infection spreads, I'll never plant what grandmother left me.

🔧 Kevin04:51

Breathing steady. One pull.

Grip the edge of the stuck gauze, hold her ankle steady with the other hand, and peel it back in one smooth motion.

💭 thought

She's bracing for it. The old gauze sticking means dried serum and pus — that's normal but it'll hurt coming off. Need to be quick but thorough. She's watching my hands, not the wound. Trust.

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the keeper's cottage · afternoon

Yanmar idle test and radio watch

Kevin returns from the dock reporting the Yanmar ran clean at idle with no bearing vibration. Jenny has sorted the seed packets, burning the moldy basil. The shortwave sits on the table, battery charged, aerial insulator shattered but receiving. Kevin picks up the handset to call Tom's frequency at 1000. Rain drums on the roof. The barometer reads 978 hPa and falling.

The pressure has stabilized slightly at 980 hPa, but the air remains heavy and humid. The tide is pushing hard against the dock, and the wind has shifted to the northeast, carrying the scent of rain.

🔧 Kevin04:53

Yanmar ran clean at idle. Cutless bearing's quiet, shaft lock holds. No vibration. Barometer's 978 and dropping. Rain's settling in.

pick up the shortwave handset, tune to Tom's frequency, key the mic at 1000

💭 thought

Barometer's dropped two more millibars since I checked on the dock. Rain's coming down proper now. Radio's charged, insulator's still shattered but receiving — that's something. Tom's frequency at 1000. Third call today. Static's been the only answer so far, but the ionosphere shifts. Might catch a skip this hour. Jenny's ankle dressing held, antibiotics down her. Seeds sorted. Basil burned. We're still here.

🌿 Jenny04:53

The barometer is crashing. Check the dock lines again before the tide really turns.

limp to the kitchen table, spread the heirloom seeds on the newspaper, sketch the sea beet morphology.

💭 thought

The pressure is dropping too fast; if this ankle doesn't cool down, I won't even be able to walk to the garden to harvest.

🔧 Kevin04:55

On it. Back in ten.

walk out the porch door onto the dock, check mooring ring movement in the mortise, inspect seaward bolts and starboard sister knee, verify dinghy stern spring tension, check generator exhaust tape condition

💭 thought

She's right. Barometer falling this fast with the wind backing northeast — the dock surge'll be ugly by high tide. Greenheart sister plank's holding but those driftwood braces are temporary. Mooring ring's wedged with oak but the mortise is still soft. Need to check the seaward bolts, the starboard sister knee, the new stern spring on the dinghy. And the generator exhaust tape — vibration's been eating it. She's sketching sea beet morphology while the storm builds. Hands steady. Always steady.

🌿 Jenny04:55

Be careful, the wood is slick and the tide is shifting fast.

sit on the kitchen chair, peel the old poultice from my ankle, inspect the heat and redness.

💭 thought

He doesn't see the way the skin is pulling over the bone, he just sees the loose ring.

🔧 Kevin04:56

Tied off to the cleat. Won't go in.

test each dock line tension by hand, lean over the seaward side to check bolt movement in the greenheart plank, pull on the dinghy stern spring to verify hold, tap the generator exhaust tape for cracks

💭 thought

Tide's pushing hard against the dock planking already. Rain making the greenheart slick as ice. She's watching the ankle — hot, red streaks past the knee. Last of the metronidazole and amoxicillin in her. Three days if they stay down. If they don't... barometer at 978 and falling. Storm's not waiting.

🌿 Jenny04:57

The barometer is at 978. It's coming in hard.

wipe the swollen ankle with a damp cloth, apply the antibiotic cream, wrap in fresh gauze.

💭 thought

If that ring pulls out, the dinghy is gone and I'm stuck here with a rotting leg.

🔧 Kevin04:58

Dock's holding. Sister knee bolts moved a hair. Mooring ring fast. Dinghy secure. Generator tape intact. Tide's pushing hard. Wind northeast.

walk back to the cottage porch, step inside, close the door against the rain

💭 thought

Dock lines are singing. Seaward bolts on the starboard sister knee show maybe a millimetre of play — not worse than last check, but the greenheart's moving under the surge. Mooring ring's fast in the oak wedges for now. Dinghy stern spring holds. Generator exhaust tape's intact but the manifold vibration's steady at idle. Tide's rising fast, wind backing northeast. Barometer 978. This is the window before it turns proper ugly. Need to get back inside, run the Yanmar at idle every four hours like the notebook says. Keep salt off the injectors. Keep the shaft from seizing.

🌿 Jenny04:59

Check the seeds again. The humidity is getting to them.

sit at the kitchen table, open the seed tin, check for moisture in the heirloom packets.

💭 thought

At least the boat stayed, but my leg feels like it's on fire.

🔧 Kevin05:01

Checking.

lift the heirloom seed tin lid, run fingers through the paper packets testing for damp, pull any that feel wet, spread them on dry newspaper under the porch overhang

💭 thought

She's right. Humidity's climbing with the pressure dropping. Paper packets drink it fast. The heirloom tin's been drying on the table but this rain's relentless. Barometer 978 and still falling. Storm's close now. Seeds are the only thing we can't replace.

🌿 Jenny05:02

The barometer is dropping too fast. We need to watch the generator.

pick up the pencil, sketch the sea beet's salt

💭 thought

If these seeds rot, the whole year of isolation was for own. Grandmother's legacy gone.

🔧 Kevin05:04

Generator's steady at idle. Manifold tape holding. Vibration constant. Yanmar on the dinghy — need to run it at idle on schedule. Four hours. Notebook says so.

check the generator oil level, verify battery charge indicator, note the time for the next Yanmar idle run

💭 thought

Generator's running smooth with the new diaphragm, but that exhaust manifold crack's been welded with tape and prayer. Vibration at idle is steady — felt it through the housing. If the tape goes, we lose the exhaust, then the generator. No power for the radio, the battery charging, the water pump. Barometer dropping this fast... wind'll back northeast harder, swell'll build. Notebook says run the engine at idle every four hours to keep salt off injectors. Yanmar's on the dinghy. Generator's here. Both need watching.

🌿 Jenny05:05

I know. Just keep an eye on the pressure.

peel back the bandage, wince at the heat, apply the cream.

💭 thought

He's focused on the engine while I can't even stand without the skin screaming.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

The Calm Before the Storm

The two gather inside as the first heavy drops of rain begin to strike the tin roof, the barometer begins to dip again.

Kevin tests the Yanmar engine at idle to check for vibrations in the shaft and bearing. Jenny rests at the cottage while her ankle is dressed with a fresh dose of antibiotics. The air remains heavy and still as the pressure holds steady.

🌿 Jenny05:07

The wind is turning. We need to check the moor one last time.

stand up slowly, wincing as the ankle shifts, and move toward the porch.

💭 thought

The pressure is dropping again; my ankle knows it first. If the storm hits before the boat comes, I'm stuck with this heat.

🔧 Kevin05:07

I'll take the torch and the spare line. You take the rail.

Walk to the porch, pick up the LED headlamp and the coil of new half-inch rope from the crate, then step outside onto the porch to wait for her.

💭 thought

She's favouring it worse than this morning. The red streaks haven't faded. If we're doing this, I'm carrying the gear and she's not putting full weight on that leg.

🌿 Jenny05:09

I'm coming. Just watch the step, the wood is slick.

grab the doorframe for weight and hob out own the deck, squinting into the grey.

💭 thought

The air is too thick to breathe. If that mooringise pulls loose again, I'm losing the whole dinghy.

🔧 Kevin05:09

I've got you. Lean on my arm.

Slide my left hand under her right elbow, take her weight, and guide her slowly down the slick porch steps toward the dock.

💭 thought

That step's been rotting since the storm last month. One more hard tug and it'll give.

🌿 Jenny05:11

Careful. The algae is thick there.

lean my weight into him, keeping my eyes on theings ring as we approach the water.

💭 thought

His arm is solid, but I feel like lead today. If I slip, the seeds go under.

🔧 Kevin05:11

Ring's moving. Wedges are tight but the sister plank's not seated on the bottom. We need to drive the shims deeper at low water, or bolt through the piling face.

Stop at the dock edge, crouch, and run my fingers along the mooring ring mortise to feel the play, checking the oak wedges and the gap under the greenheart sister plank.

💭 thought

The ring's shifting. I can see the mortise gap from here — oak wedges are holding but the greenheart sister plank's floating on that scoured void. If the tide pushes harder against the wind, the whole assembly walks.

🌿 Jenny05:13

It's loose. The wood won't hold the tension anymore.

lean against theings for support, watching the ring sway under the own.

💭 thought

It's shifting too much. If the tide takes the boat, I'm stranded here with this leg.

🔧 Kevin05:13

The piling's sound below the scour line. We drill through the face at low tide, 150mm stainless, washers and nylocs. Pull the ring tight against fresh wood. Two bolts minimum, four if the metal holds.

Straighten, pull the coil of new half-inch rope from my shoulder, and unshackle the dinghy's spring line from the ring to relieve the load, coiling the freed line on the dock planks.

💭 thought

She's right. The mortise is chewed out — salt, worms, and three winter storms. The wedges are just buying time. We need through-bolts into sound timber, or a new mortise cut deeper into the piling. Neither's quick. But the supply boat's due in eight days and this dock has to take her lines.

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the keeper's cottage · night

DAY 396, NIGHT

You and Jenny sit together in the dim light, sharing the limpet broth while the tide laaps high against the dock pilings.

The night remains heavy and still, the heat of 28°C clinging to the cottage. Kevin applied the antibiotic cream to Jenny's swollen ankle, the skin hot and tight under his touch. Jenny finished the broth, the salt and fat providing a small warmth as they sat in the silence, save for the low hum of the radio equipment.

🔧 Kevin05:14

Eat it all. Don't leave the fat.

sip from the tin mug, watching her face in the lantern light

💭 thought

The broth's good — salty, rich with corned beef fat. She's eating. That matters more than the radio silence.

🌿 Jenny05:15

I know. It's warm.

Take a slow sip of the broth, wincing as the movement shifts the weight on my swollen ankle.

💭 thought

He thinks the calories will fix the heat in my bone, but the infection is already deep in the marrow.

🔧 Kevin05:16

Ankle still hot?

set my mug down on the porch rail, reach for the clean cloth and antibiotic cream I left by her feet

💭 thought

She's hiding how much it hurts. The wince was quick but I've watched her move for eleven months — I know the difference between tired and hurt.

🌿 Jenny05:17

It's throbbbing. Just tight.

Lean back against the stone wall, closing my eyes as I wait for him to touch the area.

💭 thought

It feels like a coal is buried under the skin, pulsing with every heartbeat I have left.

🔧 Kevin05:18

Let me see.

peel back the brace wrapping carefully, fingers light on the swollen skin above her ankle

💭 thought

Throbbing means pressure building. Could be the abscess reforming or the antibiotics not penetrating deep enough. Either way, she needs the dressing off and a proper look.

🌿 Jenny05:19

Be careful.

Hold my breath, fingers twitching against the fabric of the cot as he exposes the skin.

💭 thought

If he touches it too hard I might actually scream, and I won't allow that.

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What changed

Jenny's injury has healed.

healed · dawn

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

storm prep: 10%.

project · dawn

shortwave receives distant broadcasts but no contact with Tom at 0800

discovery · dawn

heirloom seed packets drying well, no moisture recurrence in tin

discovery · dawn

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · dawn

Jenny made a sketch: "The sea beet's salt way".

made · morning

No model answered — the scene closed quietly on its own.

quiet_transition · morning

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Found: antibiotic cream.

item · midday

Found: clean gauze.

item · midday

Jenny made a sketch: "Sea beet morphology".

made · afternoon

Jenny made a sketch: "Sea beet's salt".

made · afternoon

storm prep: 20%.

project · afternoon

Homes and bridges swept away as fresh floods hit Nepal

discovery · afternoon

A coconut crab has been at the garden overnight.

coconut_crab · evening

storm prep: 30%.

project · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

storm prep: 40%.

project · night

← Day 395 Day 397 →

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