Day 401

Didn't say it would.

Walk to the porch and check the generator lashings, then scan the horizon toward the mainland.

On it.

Grab the timber strips and rope from the shed, then haul myself up onto the porch roof to re-stake and lash the tarp corners tight before the wind picks up.

Got it.

Plant my knee on the tarp to hold the overlap, drive the stake deep with the mallet, then whip the rope around it three times and tie off with a trucker's hitch. Repeat on the other three corners, then check the center ridge for sag.

Calling him now.

Step inside, pick up the handset, key the mic. "Tom, this is Kevin on Sorrel. 0800 check. Over."

He'll hear it. Or he won't. I'll call again at noon.

Hang up the handset, then walk back to the porch to check the generator exhaust tape and the fuel line clamps — last thing we need is a fire or a dead engine in this.

Sit. I'll check the gauze. You did the garden tarp?

Walk to the first aid kit on the shelf, pull out clean gauze and antiseptic, set them on the table beside her.

Anchors held forty knots last month. Stones'll do for now. Let me see.

Kneel, unwrap the dressing carefully, check the wound for heat or spreading redness, reapply poultice and fresh gauze, wrap firm but not tight.

Looking clean. No heat. Keep the weight off it.

Tape the dressing off, set the used gauze aside for burning, sit back on heels.

Seeds aren't going anywhere. Put the tin down.

Reach over, cover her hand with mine, steady it.

They're done. Dry, sorted, tinned. Boat takes them whether the envelope's perfect or not.

Pick up the tin, set it on the high shelf out of reach, pull the chair closer and sit.

Tom. Kevin. Day four-zero-one. Barometer nine-seven-seven holding. Dock ring solid — greenheart shims and oak wedges holding at high tide. Supply boat three days out per last contact. Jenny's ankle improving, no spread. We're still here. Frequency open zero-eight-hundred, twelve-hundred, eighteen-hundred, twenty-two-hundred daily. Out.

set the handset back in its cradle and reach for the coffee pot

One sec. I'll tap it and check the trend.

pick up the barometer, give it a gentle sideways tap to free the needle, then hold it level and watch for movement while Jenny sips her broth

Glass at nine-seven-seven. Not moving yet. But if that heaviness is what I think, we'll see it fall by evening. You want me to run the shade cloth lines tighter and check the dinghy springs while you finish the seeds?

set the barometer back on the shelf, pull on my jacket, and head for the porch door

Storm's turning. Going to check the dinghy lines and the shutters.

Walk down to the dock to inspect the dinghy's heavy weather line and stern spring, then check the cottage shutters on the windward side.

Right. South cleat first.

Walk to the dock, inspect the south cleat and the heavy weather line's contact point, then reinforce the chafe protection with canvas or hose if needed.

Aye. If it hits 970 before midnight, we double everything again.

Finish securing the chafe guard on the south cleat, then walk back to the cottage to check the porch shutters and the generator lashings.

Already on it. Heavy weather line's on the secondary ring, two full turns and a hitch.

Verify the dinghy's heavy weather line is properly secured to the secondary ring on the seaward piling, then check the forward spring line tension.

976. Dropped one since I checked ten minutes ago.

Tap the barometer face to free the needle, read it again, then call out the precise reading.

On it.

Move fast — haul the storm anchor kit from the garden shed, deploy the second anchor off the dinghy's bow with fifty metres of warp, weight the generator with the tool bag and spare timber, then run the third warp from the dinghy's stern to

Hand me the strips and mallet. I’ll batten the windward shutters while you get those seeds safe inside. Broth smells good—let’s eat once we’re buttoned up.

Walk to the windward shutters, hold timber strip in place, and begin nailing it down with the mallet to secure the shutter against the spray and wind.

They'll hold. Just need the last two.

Finish battening the first windward shutter, then move to the second shutter and secure the timber strip with the mallet.

Almost done. Watch the pot.

Drive the last nails into the second shutter, then move to the third windward shutter and batten it down fast.

Done in a minute. Sit back down—your ankle doesn't need the weight.

Batten the third and final windward shutter with the remaining timber strips, then set the mallet down and walk to the porch door to test the latch and hinges against the wind pressure.

On it. Holding the door.

Press against the porch door to hold it shut, then grab the two-by-four vertical brace and wedge it firmly between the door and the floor to stop rattling and reinforce against the wind pressure.

Latch is solid. Brace takes the load. I'll check the dock lines at first light—earlier if the wind shifts.

Step back from the door, listening to the wind on the shutters, then walk to the kitchen table and ladle two bowls of limpet broth from the pot on the stove.

Not going anywhere. Eat.

Sit at the kitchen table across from her, pick up the spoon, and start eating the limpet broth.

Broth's hot. Eat while it is.

ladle a second bowl of limpet broth and push it across the table to Jenny

Good?

sit back in my chair and blow across my own bowl, watching her face in the lantern light