Day 457
Pressure Drops and Rising Tides
They ate twice. Jenny sketched sea-beet and its leaf venation. The rain tank gained twenty-five litres. A jellyfish bloom drifted pale and slow in the bay. A tool broke from wear. Kevin rigged a line from dock ring to oak by the spring so Jenny could haul herself up hand-over-hand. "Hold. I'm putting a through-bolt in the starboard sister. Thirty seconds, then you're on," he said. She made it. SWR came in 1.3 to 1 on 40 meters. Kevin kept the mic hot at 1600, listening for Tom's call sign.
Dawn broke dark over the bay, the barometer holding at 980 hPa as the tide lapped the pilings. Kevin took the dinghy out and ran the Yanmar under load — the vibration fix held. Jenny bound a mint poultice on her ankle, watching the red line for spread. The air stayed thick, pressure sliding slow.
No record exists for the morning of Day 458. By midday they were back at the cottage. Kevin tested the engine again while Jenny refreshed the poultice and watched the needle. The sky thickened. Salt scent sharpened in the overcast heat as the barometer read 981 hPa. Tide rose steady against the dock.
Evening brought the water to the new planks' lower edge and a first cool easterly breeze. At the shrine the air sat heavy in 31°C heat, barometer still 981, tide high on the stone foundations.
Night broke the stillness — a north gust, tide receding, slick rocks exposed. Kevin cleaned the corroded radio ground rod and clamp at the mast, restoring continuity. Jenny limped up and applied fresh poultice, noting the barometer at 979 hPa.
They ate twice. Jenny sketched sea-beet and its leaf venation. The rain tank gained twenty-five litres. A jellyfish bloom drifted pale and slow in the bay. A tool broke from wear. Kevin rigged a line from dock ring to oak by the spring so Jenny could haul herself up hand-over-hand. "Hold. I'm putting a through-bolt in the starboard sister. Thirty seconds, then you're on," he said. She made it. SWR came in 1.3 to 1 on 40 meters. Kevin kept the mic hot at 1600, listening for Tom's call sign.
Scenes
the dock · dawnA Rising Pressure Warning
Kevin and Jenny stand on the dock planks as the sky darkens over the bay. The barometer shows a steady drop to 980 hPa while the tide begins to lap against the pilings.
Kevin took the dinghy out to test the Yanmar engine under load, confirming that the vibration fix held true. Jenny treated her ankle with a poultice while monitoring the infection line for signs of spreading. The air remains heavy as the atmospheric pressure continues to drop slowly.
I’m gonna run back to the cottage and check the ground stake on the radio mast. Barometer’s dropping and tide’s high—if we lose the insulator, we’re blind till the boat comes.
walk up to the cottage, grab the multimeter and a spare insulator from the shelf, then head back to the dock to test the ground stake resistance and replace the shattered aerial insulator if needed.
💭 thought
Check the salt connections. I'll finish the sea-beet sketches before the rain starts.
rub my swollen ankle, open the damp notebook, and watch the barometer needle drop.
💭 thought
On it. Salt connections first, then the stake. Yell if the ankle spikes.
walk up to the cottage, pull the multimeter from the radio shelf, and test the ground stake resistance at the mast base — clean the salt off the lug and clamp if it reads high, then swap the shattered insulator for the spare porcelain one i
💭 thought
Be careful with the ladder. I'm starting the poultice again.
grind the dried mint sprigs in the mortar and wrap my own in the clean cloth.
Ladder's sound. Three points of contact.
climb the radio mast ladder to the bracket, unbolt the shattered insulator, clean the salt crust off the mounting lugs with the wire brush, install the spare porcelain insulator with new self-amalgamating tape, torque the bolts to spec, the
💭 thought
Watch the horizon. The tide is coming in fast for the forecast.
apply the mint poultice to my ankle and check the own one last time.
💭 thought
the dock · morningMorning of Day 458
The two meet at the dock as the sun struggles to break the overcast sky, the smell of salt and approaching rain thickening.
No narrator was available, so nothing about this stretch was recorded.
It's coming in fast. We need to get the gear into the cottage.
Tighten the wrap on my ankle and wince, then point to the barometer reading.
💭 thought
Dinghy first. Engine's warm — I'll motor her to the lee of the point and anchor. You take the uphill path, slow.
walk to the dinghy, check the stern line and storm anchor warp, then crank the Yanmar
💭 thought
I'll take the seeds and the notebook. Don't be long.
Grab the grandmother's seed tin and the notebook, then start limping toward the uphill path.
💭 thought
Jenny, wait. Let me rig a line from the dock ring to that oak by the spring. You can haul yourself up hand-over-hand, no weight on the ankle.
run back to the dock, grab the spare half-inch rope from the coil, tie a bowline on the mooring ring, and run the other end to the oak stake by the spring, taking up the slack with a trucker's hitch.
💭 thought
way. way make it tight. I can't slip again.
Clutch the seed tin to my chest and reach for the rope.
💭 thought
Hold. I'm putting a through-bolt in the starboard sister. Thirty seconds, then you're on.
drill a pilot hole through the greenheart sister plank into the dock piling, drive the 150mm stainless bolt with washer and nyloc nut, and torque to 35Nm.
💭 thought
the keeper's cottage · middayA Quiet Stretch
Back at the cottage.
Kevin tested the Yanmar engine under load in the dinghy to ensure the vibration fix held, while Jenny applied a mint poultice to her ankle and monitored the barometer for a further drop.
The air is turning heavy.
Walk to the kitchen shelf and check the barometer, then sit at the table to prepare the mint poultice.
💭 thought
Yeah. I felt it when I was out. Barometer's at 982 and still sliding. I'll batten down the garden and check the dinghy lines before I do the radio check.
walk to the spring, fill the watering can, then head to the garden to water and stake down the tarp corners where the wind's lifting it.
💭 thought
Make sure the stakes are deep, that wind is coming fast.
Grind the mint sprigs in the mortar and pestle for the poultice.
💭 thought
Stakes are oak, vertical grain. They'll hold. I'll double-line the corners to the deadmen.
walk to the garden, pick up the mallet leaning against the shed, drive each of the four oak stakes deeper at the tarp corners, then run a second length of heavy twine from each stake to the buried deadman anchors and cinch them tight.
💭 thought
Check the radio when you're done with the wayhy.
Apply the mint poultice to the ankle and wrap it in clean cloth.
💭 thought
Radio's next. Ground rod first — corroded last week. I'll drive a new stake and re-braid the earth lead.
walk back to the cottage porch, unscrew the ground rod clamp from the radio earth terminal, pull the old galvanized rod from the damp soil beside the foundation, drive a fresh copper-clad stake deep with the sledge, clean the braid with eme
💭 thought
Make sure the connection is tight, the signal is dying.
Walk to the window to watch the clouds, then open the notebook to sketch the sea-beet.
💭 thought
Connection's clean. Copper stake, fresh braid, clamped tight. I'll solder the terminal and check SWR before the hour.
walk to the workshop shelf, retrieve the soldering iron and rosin-core solder, heat the iron on the wood stove top, solder the braid-to-terminal joint, let it cool, then key the mic briefly to check the SWR meter on the shortwave.
💭 thought
The barometer is still falling. 982.
Check the barometer again, then re-wrap the poultice on the ankle.
💭 thought
SWR's 1.3 to 1 on 40 meters — clean enough for voice. I'll keep the mic hot at 1600 and listen for Tom's call sign.
return the soldering iron to the workshop, hang the ground rod clamp back on the terminal, then walk to the radio shelf, set the VFO to Tom's frequency (7.185 MHz LSB), turn the RF gain up, and wait for 1600, eyes on the barometer.
💭 thought
the dock · afternoonThe Thickening Sky
Kevin is at the dock while Jenny remains on the cottage porch.
The air is heavy and still as the barometer continues its slow drop to 981 hPa, signaling a shift in pressure. The tide is rising steadily against the dock pilings, and the salt-scent is intensifying in the overcast heat.
Come on, just a little.
Check the barometer again, then massage the swelling around my ankle.
💭 thought
(silent, murmuring to the wind) “Alright, let’s see how these hold.”
inspect each bolt of the dock ring mortise, tighten with 35 Nm torque, add a steel doubler if needed.
💭 thought
Jenny — open the notebook and start sketching the venation on the sea-beet leaves.
💭 thought
Kevin — drive two more oak wedges into the mortise alongside the existing four, seat them with the mallet until the ring won't shift under hand pressure.
💭 thought
the old shrine · eveningEvening Tide Rise
The tide has reached the lower edge of the new dock planks, and the first cool breeze is picking up from the east.
The air at the shrine is thick and heavy with the 31°C heat as the barometer shows a steady drop to 981 hPa, signaling a change in the atmospheric pressure. The tide is high, lapping steadily against the stone foundations of the island.
Jenny — stand up slowly, wincing at the ankle, and limp back toward the way to check the barometer.
💭 thought
Kevin — walk back toward the cottage, keeping pace with her limp.
💭 thought
The barometer is dropping faster than I thought.
Reach for the instrument on the cottage wall to read the glass.
💭 thought
How fast?
Step up onto the porch behind her, eyes on the gauge over her shoulder.
💭 thought
Fast enough to make me rethink the garden gate.
Point to the needle hovering near 981 hPa, still moving downward.
💭 thought
The gate'll hold. It's the dock pilings I'm watching.
Turn toward the door, pull the storm lantern off its hook, check the wick.
💭 thought
I need to change the poultice. The heat is coming back.
Rub the throbbing in my ankle, wincing as the bandage shifts against the skin.
💭 thought
I'll heat water. Clean cloth. Fresh mint if there's any left.
Move to the stove, fill the kettle from the tank, set it to boil.
💭 thought
Use the dried ones if the fresh are wilted.
sit on the bench and carefully unwrap the swollen ankle to look at the red streaks.
💭 thought
I'll grab the dried mint from the tin by the stove. You want the antiseptic cream too?
Turn off the kettle before it whistles, step to the counter, open the heirloom seed tin where we've been keeping the mint. Pull out a small bundle, check for damp.
💭 thought
Yes. Please. The skin feels tight.
Trace the edge of the infection with a trembling finger, watching the pulse in the ankle.
💭 thought
Right.
Pour hot water into the tin mug, drop the dried mint in to steep. Squeeze the antiseptic tube — nearly empty. Carry both to the bench, set them down. Kneel. Peel back the old gauze slow.
💭 thought
the old shrine · nightThe gathering storm approaches
The heavy stillness finally breaks as the first cool gust blows in from the north, the high tide begins to recede, exposing the slick rocks of the shore.
Kevin cleaned the corroded radio ground rod and clamp at the cottage mast, restoring continuity. Jenny limped back to the cottage and applied a fresh mint poultice to her infected ankle, noting the barometer had fallen further to 979 hPa.
Jenny, I'm going to check the radio ground stake. Want anything while I'm down there?
walk to the radio mast at the cottage, inspect the ground rod and connections, clean corrosion with wire brush if needed, re-seat the clamp, and test continuity with multimeter if available.
💭 thought
Just bring back some fresh water if the tank is looking low.
close the notebook and rub the swollen skin around the bandage.
💭 thought
Got it, Jenny. I'll fetch some rain‑catchment water right now and top off the tank.
move to the roof of the cottage, open the rain‑catchment cover, position a bucket or rain barrel, let the wind help funnel rain, and carry the collected water back to the tank to top it off.
💭 thought
Be careful on the rocks, they're getting slick.
stand up slowly and limp toward the cottage.
💭 thought
What changed
a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.