Day 42

Shade cloth first. Dock can wait till the boat's due.

walk up to the garden to check the shade cloth ties

Bilge pump and oarlocks today. Cloth's tied off from last blow.

walk back toward the dock to check the dinghy's bilge pump and oarlock bracket

Pump's clear last time I checked. I'll pull the hose and blow it out.

walk to the dinghy at the dock end and inspect the bilge pump intake hose

Boat's due in two days. Barometer's steady. Dock planks held last time — rotten ones are still rotten but sound enough for a tie-up. You want to run the shopping list by me now, or wait until she's on the horizon?

Lean against the dock cleat, arms folded, watching the high water slack against the pilings.

Got a spare plug in the kit — NGK BPR6ES, same as the Yanmar takes. Generator takes the same. Salt, coffee, epoxy resin and hardener, fibreglass mat, fuel filter elements, impeller kit, zinc anodes. VHF handheld if they've got one. Charts for the approaches — ours are twenty years out of date. And ask for the weather fax schedule for the coast station. Anything else?

Reach into the pocket of my oilskin, pull out the spare spark plug wrapped in a rag, hold it up for her to see.

Two bags flour, salt, coffee. Yeast, baking powder, oil. Dried beans, rice, tinned tomatoes. Onions, potatoes if fresh. Medical restock — antiseptic, gauze, tape, ibuprofen. Metal storage tins for the flour. New notebook. Anything for the garden? Lime, netting, stakes?

Tap the spare plug against my palm, then tuck it back into my oilskin pocket. Glance at the dinghy's epoxy repair — still tacky, the humidity's not letting it cure.

Lime for the beds, metal tins for the flour. Got it. Also need to talk about the mast step — the spruce spar's still split, epoxy won't cure. Thinking of scarfing it with a stainless doubler plate and through-bolts, then sealing with marine putty. Might hold until we can get proper timber.

Push off from the cleat, walk a few steps along the dock to where the spruce spar lies under the tarp, lift the edge to check the split — still open, still tacky. Shake my head.

Ta.

Walk to the radio shelf, check the battery indicator, and note the reading in the notebook.

Always do.

Glance out the porch window at the sky, then return to the radio to log the battery percentage and time.

Generator's cool. I'll stow it inside before the dew settles.

walk to the porch, unstrap the tarp from the generator, lift the generator and carry it through the kitchen doorway, set it on the stone floor beside the stove, drape the tarp over a chair to dry

Got it.

shake the tarp out through the doorway onto the porch, hang it over the porch rail to dry, wipe hands on trousers, pull out the other chair at the table and sit opposite her

Packets looking any better?

lean back in the chair, stretch cold fingers toward the stove's residual warmth, watch her work

Good.

reach into pocket, pull out the small notebook, flip to the page with the soil pH log, tap the pencil against the table once, then set it down without writing

Twenty hundred hours. Radio schedule.

sit at the kitchen table with the radio, adjust the squelch, key the microphone — "Victor Kilo Four November Bravo, Victor Kilo Four November Bravo, standing by on schedule" — release the key and listen

Nothing heard. Closing schedule.

key the mic — "Victor Kilo Four November Bravo, clear" — set the microphone down, pull the pot off the stove, pour the hot water over the sea beet in the bowl

Sea beet's done. Eat while it's hot.

slide the bowl across the table, take the other for myself, sit and eat with the radio humming low behind us

Front's coming in. Need to check the spar lashings and the mast step before dark.

finish the sea beet, set the bowl aside, pull on my boots and oilskin, step out onto the porch to look at the wind generator spar against the sky

Tank's at three-ninety-one. Spar's working loose. Mast step split's wider. Going to re-lash the spar and wedge the step with hardwood shims before the epoxy gives completely.

climb the ladder to the wind generator platform, untie the existing lashings, wrap new turns of the half-inch three-strand around the spar and mast step, cinch them down with a timber hitch and two half-hitches, then descend to fetch the cr

Barometer's stuck. Front's not moving. Generator's warm but steady. I'll check the spar lashings in a minute — if the rain eases.

sip tea, watch the radio dial for any sign of Tom's frequency, then stand and pull on my oilskin before stepping onto the porch to inspect the wind generator spar and mast step lashings by headlamp.

I'll hold the ladder. Don't want you taking a slip on the wet stone.

grab the ladder from the porch rack, brace it against the cottage wall beneath the wind generator mount, and shine my headlamp up to steady it as Jenny climbs to inspect the spar lashings and mast step junction.

Got it. Take your time. I'm not letting go.

brace the ladder hard with both boots and shoulders, headlamp beam fixed on the spar junction, one hand free to grab her belt if she shifts — watching the mast step for any sudden movement, the epoxy line, the rope tension.

Step's moving. Shims are crushing. I'm going up on the porch roof to check the bolt heads — see if the nylocs are backing off.

hand the ladder off to steady it one-handed, unclip my headlamp and pocket it, then climb onto the porch roof via the windowsill — crab-walking up the wet slate to the generator mount, wiping rain from the bolt heads to check nut torque by