Day 498

I'll check the mount, then run a line from the bow cleat to the north piling. Double it up. We'll ride this out.

kneel by the Yanmar engine mount and inspect the bolts and bracket for play or vibration, using my hands to feel for movement while the engine is off.

Mount's good. No shake, no play. I'll get the heavy line from the dry bag and run it bow to north piling, double it with a round turn and two half-hitches.

stand, walk to the dry bag lashed to the dinghy's starboard gunwale, untie it, and retrieve the coil of heavy-duty nylon rope (half-inch three-strand).

Cleat's solid oak, but I'll check it twice—once before I tie, once after. Forecast's off; the water's already lifting.

walk to the dock's bow cleat, inspect it for cracks, rot, or loose fastenings by probing with my fingers and giving it a firm tug to test hold, then step back and visually confirm it's secure before proceeding.

Got the nylon. I'll run it bow to north piling, double back to the cleat, and lock it down. Should hold even if the wind kicks.

take the heavy-duty nylon rope, walk to the dinghy's bow cleat, tie a secure figure-eight knot, then walk to the north piling, take two full turns around it for friction, return to the cleat, and tie off with a figure-eight followed by two

Kevin — walk to the dock with the oak wedges and bronze sleeve. Check the mooring ring’s play under load by pushing sideways on the dinghy’s stern line.

I know. I’ll put a through-bolt with a steel plate on the backside — like we did on the north piling. Distribute the load. It’ll hold.

Go to the workshop shelf. Grab the 150mm stainless through-bolts, washers, nyloc nuts, and the steel doubler plate. Take the mallet and drill. Walk back to the dock.

I’ll pilot-hole it first. Slow and steady.

Drill a 12mm pilot hole through the dock timber just behind the mooring ring mortise, angled slightly upward to avoid splitting the grain. Insert the steel doubler plate on the backside, then drive the through-bolt with washers and nut.

I’ll go to 35Nm — same as the north piling. No more.

Torque the through-bolt to 35Nm using the wrench. Test the mooring ring by pulling sideways on the dinghy’s stern line with both hands. Watch for any shift in the ring or movement in the wood around the mortise.

Kevin — walk to the cottage. Lift the lid off the pot of limpets. Scoop two into a tin mug, blow on them, and eat them standing by the stove. Leave the rest for Jenny.

Yeah. Leak’s still there. Sealant’s not curing — too damp in the air. I’ll try again after tide turns, when it cools a bit. For now, I’ve got the bucket catching most of it.

walk to the rain tank, lift the lid, check water level, then return to the kitchen and pour a glass of water from the tap, hand it to Jenny.

Yeah. Let’s get them in the pantry — back corner, off the floor. I’ll shift the tinned beef to make space.

walk to the pantry, move two tins of corned beef to the shelf above, clear a space on the floor, then return to the kitchen, pick up the heirloom seed tin, and carry it to the pantry, placing it flat on the cleared spot.

I’ll be up in a minute. Just securing the shutter bucket first — don’t want it spilling when I’m on the ladder.

walk to the back wall, lift the galvanized bucket under the shutter leak, carry it to the sink, pour the water out, wipe it dry with a cloth, then return it to its place under the leak.

I’ve got the limpets and sea beet on the table. Let’s eat while it’s hot, then I’ll redo the poultice and sit with you a bit.

carry the pot of limpets and the bowl of sea beet to the table, set them down, and pull out the chair beside Jenny.

Next time I’ll pound the leaves first. Eat up—you need the salt and iron.

sit beside Jenny, eat a limpet myself, and keep an eye on the drip rate into the bucket.

Shutter’s leaking worse than I thought. Gonna need to pull the old caulk and re-bed it from the outside tomorrow. Low tide’ll give us a window.

wipe hands on rag, then walk to the rain tank and check the level—397 litres, good for now. Fill the kettle and set it on the stove to boil water for tea.

Won’t let a drop near them. I’ll hang the tarp over the east porch beam and weight the corners—make a dry locker. You rest; I’ll handle the shutter first light.

walk to the porch, grab the heavy-duty tarp scrap and a length of new rope, then tie a corner to the beam and start stretching it out to form a lean-to shelter over the seed trays and notebook.

Almost got it. Just need to stake the far corner—grab that cedar wedge from the door hinge repair, it’ll hold in the soft soil.

walk to the porch door, prise out the swollen cedar wedge with the nail puller, carry it to the far corner of the tarp, and drive it into the ground at a 45-degree angle with the mallet to anchor the corner securely against the rising south

It’s deep. But I’m adding a second line to the seaward piling—just in case the wind shifts and tries to rip it loose.

walk to the dock, grab a length of the new half-inch rope from the coiled spool, tie a bowline around the tarp’s grommet, then walk to the seaward piling and secure it with a round turn and two half-hitches, pulling tight to take out the sl

Tide’s pushing hard. I’ll check the dock planks near the piling before I put weight on them—some of those old cores are getting soft.

crouch low, reach out with the boat hook to tap the dock planks near the seaward piling—listening for hollow sounds, feeling for give—then, if solid, step onto the dock and walk to the mooring ring to inspect the oak wedges one last time be

Aye, the salt’s winning today. I’ll sister the planks with greenheart at first low tide—tomorrow, if the storm passes. You keep that ankle elevated; I’ll bring up the poultice herbs from the garden.

step back onto the cottage porch, shake excess water from the boat hook, then walk to the garden and cut a handful of fresh sea beet leaves and wild mint sprigs for the poultice, crushing them slightly in my palm to release the juices befor