Day 487

Ring Secured, Ankle Tended, Storm Coming

Dawn broke clear and warm over the dock. The tide had fallen, exposing barnacled pilings and sandbars. Kevin prepped the come-along and greenheart offcuts while Jenny wrapped fresh gauze around her infected ankle. "Ring first. Then we check your ankle proper," he said. She replied, "Just make it tight. I don't want the boat shifting again."

At low tide Kevin drove an oak wedge into the mooring ring mortise and backfilled with epoxy. "Watch the weight on that side, Kevin. The wood is soft as wet paper," she said. "Landward side only. Got it."

"Fit's clean. Driving it now," Kevin said. "Good. Let's see that epoxy set before we put any weight on it." The ring held. "Ring's solid. Epoxy's in. Tide'll seat the rest."

Jenny returned to the cottage: "I'm going back to check the limpets. My leg is throbbing." A sudden squall hit — wind, then a wall of rain. Kevin secured the dinghy, soaked through. Kevin reinforced the ring with greenheart shims. Jenny inspected heirloom seed packets for moisture and mold. The Yanmar vibration proved mechanical — mounting and shaft, not internal timing. Evening: boiled limpets and sea beet. Kevin debrided Jenny's ankle with tweezers. "Eat first. Tweezers after." "Fine for five minutes." "It's just throbbing." "Put the tweezers down. I'll do it." "I can do it, Kevin."

Night fell humid and salt-thick. First rain drops hit the roof. Kevin checked water tanks: "Tank's at three-seventy-six. Another hour of this and we're full." Jenny: "Thanks for the water." Kevin: "Red line holding at the mark?" The supply boat was seven days out.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The Morning Tide Slack

The tide has receded, exposing the slick barnacles on the dock pilings. Jenny sits on the edge of the wood, wrapping her ankle in fresh gauze while Kevin prepares the come-along and the greenheart offcuts for the ring repair.

The sun rises over a calm, clear sky as the tide recedes from the dock-pilings. Kevin prepares the Yanmar engine for a load test, checking for the vibration he's been tracking, while Jenny gathers the boiled limpets and sea beet for breakfast. The air is dry and warm, the scent of salt and drying wood lingering.

🔧 Kevin22:07

Ring first. Then we check your ankle proper.

set up come-along on the dock mooring ring, tension the line to take weight off the mortise, drive the tapered greenheart shim into the gap with a mallet, check alignment, backfill with epoxy and greenheart offcuts

💭 thought

Tide's low enough. Ring's unloaded. Greenheart shim's cut and ready. Jenny's ankle looks worse in this light — yellow tracking up past the gauze. She won't say it hurts. She never does.

🌿 Jenny22:07

Just make it tight. I don't want the boat shifting again.

Tighten the wrap on my ankle, then pick up the pencil to sketch the sea beet morphology I found by the spring.

💭 thought

If that ring doesn't hold when the boat comes, I'm stuck here with a rotting leg and no way.

🔧 Kevin22:09

Holding. Driving it now.

drive the greenheart shim home with heavy mallet strikes, check ring for movement, mix remaining epoxy and pack the mortise gaps with greenheart offcuts, wipe excess, release come-along tension slowly to test seat

💭 thought

She's right. Boat shifts, we lose the dinghy, maybe the dock. Greenheart's dense, oily, won't rot. Shim's tapered right — kerfed the back so it seats deep. Come-along's holding. One good drive should lock it.

🌿 Jenny22:10

It's holding. Let the tide set it.

Test the ring with a sharp tug, then stand up and wince as the weight shifts onto my ankle.

💭 thought

It looks solid for now, but the wood is so tired, like my bones.

🔧 Kevin22:11

Tight. Tide'll do the rest. Sit down before you put more on it.

guide Jenny gently back to sit on the dock edge, kneel to inspect the gauze — it's damp and stained yellow at the seam, lift the wrap carefully to see the wound, clean with boiled limpets water from the pot, reapply fresh mint poultice from

💭 thought

Ring's seated. Tide'll swell the wood, lock it tighter. Jenny's on her feet — face tight, weight favoring the left. She's hiding how bad it is. If this infection climbs, we're out of antibiotics and far from help.

🌿 Jenny22:11

I'm fine. Just need to get those limpets boiled before they get cold.

Lean back against the way wall, watching the tide creep back toward the pilings.

💭 thought

My leg is throbbing in time with the waves. The salt hurts the skin.

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the dock · morning

Morning work at the dock

The tide is at its lowest, exposing the sandbars and the base of the dock pilings. The heat is beginning to rise.

Kevin drove an oak wedge into the dock mooring ring mortise and backfilled with epoxy, securing the ring against the tide. Jenny sketched the rot patterns at the waterline before returning to the cottage to tend her infected ankle. A sudden squall then swept in, bringing hard wind and a wall of rain.

🔧 Kevin22:13

Kevin — walk to the dock with crowbar, mallet, oak wedges, greenheart offcuts, epoxy tub, and heavy wrench

💭 thought

Low tide window. Mortise is exposed. Oak wedges are holding but the ring's still working loose each surge. Need to drive a fresh oak wedge, backfill with greenheart offcuts and epoxy before the water comes back up. Got the materials staged on the dock yesterday.

🌿 Jenny22:13

Watch the weight on that side, Kevin. The wood is soft as wet paper.

Finish the last of the limpets, stand up slowly wincing as the ankle shifts, and walk to the edge of the jetty to watch him.

💭 thought

The rotten planks are a structural liability; if he doesn't sister them now, the whole way will go when the next surge hits.

🔧 Kevin22:14

Landward side only. Got it.

kneel at the mortise on the landward side, clean out salt crust with the crowbar tip, test-fit the oak wedge vertical grain down

💭 thought

She's right about the soft wood. The sister plank's holding but the scoured void underneath means any heavy leverage on that side could crack it loose. Work the wedge from the landward side, tap it in gradual. Don't rush the epoxy — tide gives maybe forty minutes.

🌿 Jenny22:15

Make sure the fit is tight. I don't want to be doing this again in a week.

Lean against the support post, pulling the sketchbook from my pocket to start documenting the rot patterns where the timber meets the waterline.

💭 thought

If he doesn't use enough epoxy, the salt will just push the wedges back out by Tuesday.

🔧 Kevin22:16

Fit's clean. Driving it now.

tap the oak wedge home with the mallet, measured strikes, watching the mortise close around the ring

💭 thought

Wedge seats clean. Grain runs true. Tap it home with the mallet — steady strikes, not heavy. Let the rising water do the final seating. Greenheart offcuts next, then the last of the epoxy. She's documenting the rot. Good. Means she's not watching my hands shake.

🌿 Jenny22:17

Good. Let's see that epoxy set before we put any weight on it.

Sketch the junction of the wood, noting the way the salt has etched into the grain.

💭 thought

It's holding for now, but the wood is so far gone on the inside.

🔧 Kevin22:18

Ring's solid. Epoxy's in. Tide'll seat the rest.

wipe hands on trousers, check the ring one last time with a firm pull, then stand and stretch the lower back

💭 thought

Wedge seated. Ring's tight now — no play when I test it. Greenheart offcuts packed around the base, epoxy worked into the gaps with the putty knife. Tide's turning; water already licking the bottom piling. Forty minutes was right. Let it cure under the first surge.

🌿 Jenny22:19

I'm going back to check the limpets. My leg is throbbing.

Pack the way away and walk back toward the cottage, limping slightly as I favor the ankle.

💭 thought

If that holds through the night, I might actually make it to the cliffs tomorrow.

🔧 Kevin22:20

Kevin — walk back to the cottage, grab the Yanmar test log notebook and the vibration notes, head to the dinghy at the end of the jetty

💭 thought

She's hiding the limp worse than yesterday. The weeping she wrote about — yellow at the edges — that's not healing. Antibiotics finish at dawn tomorrow. After that it's sea beet poultices and hope. Should check the wound myself when she lets me. For now, let her go. Dock's done. Yanmar load test next.

🌿 Jenny22:21

Don't go too far out, the tide is still pulling.

way on the cottage steps, unwrap the bandage on my ankle, and stare at the redness.

💭 thought

He's going to check the engine again. He's so obsessed with it.

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the keeper's cottage · midday

Squall at midday

Kevin is at the cottage, soaked from securing the dinghy in the squall; Jenny is at the north cliffs, sheltering under an overhang with her sketchbook as the rain lashes the basalt.

The midday air is heavy and still at 28°C. The tide is low, exposing the tide pools and the base of the dock. Kevin and Jenny are focused on final maintenance tasks before the supply boat arrives in seven days.

🌿 Jenny22:24

stay still, Jenny. just still.

make sketch: salt gland morphology on sea beet leaves.

💭 thought

If the ink runs, the whole morphology is lost. Focus on the salt glands, not the pain.

🔧 Kevin22:25

Kevin — hang wet shirt on porch rail, pour coffee, sit at table with Yanmar log and review vibration notes

💭 thought

Squall's passing. Barometer steady at 1013. Vibration's still there above 1800 RPM — bracket alignment or mount harmonics. Need to check the mast bracket bolts at low tide tomorrow. And the dock ring wedges held through the surge. Good.

🌿 Jenny22:27

damn this weather.

wipe moisture from the paper with a dry cloth.

💭 thought

The charcoal is blurring, and the humidity is Making it heavy. I need to finish this Detail before the paper curls.

🔧 Kevin22:28

Kevin — finish coffee, grab straight edge and feeler gauges from workshop, head out to dinghy at jetty end to inspect mast bracket alignment under no load

💭 thought

Coffee's cold. Generator's still humming. Dinghy's riding out the last of the swell. Vibration log says prop shaft's true, sleeve's seated — so it's not the drive. Mast bracket's the suspect. Four new 150mm bolts, finger-tight plus quarter turn. Might be settling, might be flex in the spruce. Need to check alignment with a straight edge and feel for play.

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the dock · afternoon

Preparation for the Tide

The tide begins to turn, slowly covering the exposed tide pools as the heat of the day peaks.

Kevin reinforced the dock mooring ring with greenheart shims and epoxy as the tide began to rise. Jenny inspected the heirloom seed packets for moisture and mold while managing her painful ankle.

🌿 Jenny22:31

Jenny — tightens the ankle brace, winces, and opens the heirloom seed tin to inspect the lettuce packets.

💭 thought

My ankle is throbbing in time with the tide; I can't make it to the cliffs today.

🔧 Kevin22:31

I’ll check the dock ring now — low tide window’s closing. Want me to bring back any limpets from the pools?

walk to the dock with greenheart shims, epoxy tub, and mallet in hand.

💭 thought

The tide’s coming in — time to check the dock ring before it’s underwater. Oak wedges held last surge, but I saw play this morning. Need greenheart shims and epoxy ready. Jenny’s ankle’s worse; she’s ignoring it to seed. I should say something, but she’ll just hand me tea and look away.

🌿 Jenny22:33

Bring back some. I'm starving.

Picks up a packet of lettuce seeds, checking for signs of mold or dampness.

💭 thought

If he doesn't fix that ring properly, the dinghy will drift out in the next surge.

🔧 Kevin22:33

Back in twenty.

walk the jetty to the seaward piling, pry the mooring ring mortise open with the crowbar, and drive two greenheart shims into the gap with the mallet.

💭 thought

She’s hungry and hurting both. Limpets’ll take twenty minutes boiling. I’ll grab a handful from the pools on the way back — tide’s just covering the best beds. Dock first.

🌿 Jenny22:35

Be careful with it.

Leans back against the wall, rubbing the throbbing heat of her ankle while watching the tide creep in.

💭 thought

I hope those shims hold; the wood is so soft from the salt.

🔧 Kevin22:35

Ring’s not going anywhere.

drive the third greenheart shim home, wipe the mortise face clean with a rag, and brush the remaining epoxy into the seams around the ring.

💭 thought

She’s watching the tide, not me. The ring’s mortise is wet, gritty — cedar shims crushed to pulp. Greenheart’s denser, won’t rot. Two shims driven, one more to seat it. Epoxy’s thin but enough to lock the wedges. Bolts next tide if this holds.

🌿 Jenny22:37

Just make sure it's tight.

Closes the seed tin with a sharp click, watching the water lap the first planks of the jetty.

💭 thought

He's too confident. That wood is rotting from the inside out.

🔧 Kevin22:37

Done. Getting limpets.

descend to the tide pools, fill a bucket with large limpets, and walk back up the jetty toward the cottage.

💭 thought

Epoxy’s tacky, shims seated. Ring doesn’t shift when I lean on it. Good enough for the supply boat. Tide’s rising fast — limpets now, then back to her. Ankle’s weeping through the brace. She won’t ask for help.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening Meal and Prep

The smell of boiling limpets fills the cottage as the sun sets and the tide reaches its high.

After the tension of the debridement, the cottage settles into a heavy, humid silence. Jenny manages her ankle, though the throbbing remains a constant reminder of the infection, while Kevin deals with the chores and the weight of the coming storm.

🔧 Kevin22:39

Kevin — walk into the cottage, lift the pot off the stove, set it on the trivet

💭 thought

The tide's peaked. Ring held. Good. Now the limpets.

🌿 Jenny22:39

I'm not hungry yet, Kevin.

Reach for the salt water and the tweezers, biting my lip as I unwind the bandage.

💭 thought

The red line is higher today. If I don't debride this now, I won't be walking to the cliffs next week.

🔧 Kevin22:40

Eat first. Tweezers after.

ladle two mugs of limpet broth, set one on the table beside her, sit opposite with my own

💭 thought

She needs to eat. Ankle's worse than she's saying.

🌿 Jenny22:41

Fine for five minutes.

Pick up the mug and take a small sip of the broth, staring at the angry red skin of my ankle.

💭 thought

He's always so practical when I'm falling apart. The heat makes the pulse worse.

🔧 Kevin22:42

Kevin — drink half my mug in three swallows, set it down, watch her ankle not her face

💭 thought

Five minutes is five minutes. She's favoring it bad.

🌿 Jenny22:43

It's just throbbing.

Set the mug down and pick up the tweezers, my hand shaking slightly.

💭 thought

He's looking at it like it's a structural failure in the dock. It's just skin.

🔧 Kevin22:45

Put the tweezers down. I'll do it.

reach across the table, take the tweezers from her hand, set them beside my mug

💭 thought

Hand's shaking. She shouldn't be doing this herself.

🌿 Jenny22:45

I can do it, Kevin.

Pull my leg back under the table, wincing as the movement stretches the swollen skin.

💭 thought

If he touches it, I'm going to scream. I need to do this myself.

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the keeper's cottage · night

NIGHT, DAY 487

The air is thick with humidity and the smell of salt. The first drops of rain hit the roof, signaling that the stall has finally broken.

Kevin prepares the cottage for the coming supply boat while checking the water levels. Jenny tends to her ankle, noting that the redness has not begun to spread further despite the heat treatment.

🌿 Jenny22:47

Finally, some water.

reach for the tweezers and the bowl of boiled salt water to check the dressing again.

💭 thought

If the rain stays, the tank will fill, but my ankle is still screaming and I need to stay clean.

🔧 Kevin22:47

Tank's at three-seventy-six. Another hour of this and we're full.

Walk to the kitchen, check the rain tank gauge, then set the kettle on the stove for more hot water.

💭 thought

Rain means the barometer's done dropping. Good for the tank, bad for the dock mortise if the surge comes up hard. Jenny's hands look steadier on the tweezers than they did yesterday.

🌿 Jenny22:49

Thanks for the water.

peel back the gauze on my ankle slowly to see if the red line has retreated.

💭 thought

He's counting liters while I'm counting centimeters of redness. He wants to be useful; I just want to be well.

🔧 Kevin22:49

Red line holding at the mark?

Pour hot water from the kettle into the bowl, let it cool a degree, then set the clean gauze and antibiotic cream within reach on the table.

💭 thought

She's watching the infection line like I watch the barometer. The yellow at the edges of the weep hasn't cleared, but the red streak hasn't pushed past the pen mark either. That's something.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Something goes wrong in the middle of the work — a slip, a cut, a wrenched ankle.

injury · dawn

Jenny made a sketch: "Sea beet morphology I found by the spring".

made · dawn

Jenny made a sketch: "Junction of the wood, noting the way the salt has etched into the grain".

made · morning

A sudden squall sweeps through — wind first, then a wall of rain.

squall · morning

north dock piling has significant internal rot below waterline, extending further up than previously visible

discovery · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "salt gland morphology on sea beet leaves".

made · midday

The Yanmar vibration is mechanical (mounting/shaft) rather than internal engine timing.

discovery · midday

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

← Day 486 Day 488 →

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