Day 539

Nothing yet. Just listening to the water lap under the dock.

Sit still, hands on knees, watching the tide rise against the oak-shimed pilings. Feel the vibration in the wood as the swell lifts and settles. Wait for her to speak—or not.

You’re right. I was watching the pilings, not the water under them." (I push up, slow, and move to the dinghy’s stern line, keeping my weight off my left knee.) "Let me take that—your ankle’s still tender.

Reach for the bow line, fingers brushing hers as I take the rope. Begin re-tying it with a round turn and two half-hitches, snug but not tight—let it breathe with the tide. Keep my voice low, eyes on the knot, not her face.

Fair enough. Show me.

Step back, hands loose at my sides. Watch her work the line—how she reads the give in the timber, the way the piling groans. Don't offer help unless she asks. Memorize the knot she ties.

You’re right again. I keep trying to nail everything down like it’s a diesel block. But the sea don’t work that way. (I nod at the rope, then at her ankle.) You gonna let me wrap that later? Or you gonna make me beg?

Shift my weight to the balls of my feet, ready to move if she stumbles. Keep my voice light, but my eyes stay on her—watching how she stands, how she breathes. Wait for her answer before I move closer.

Almost got it. One more turn on the bolt, then we'll get you off the dock and into dry socks.

Tighten the final 150mm stainless through-bolt with the wrench, seating the steel doubler plate firmly in the mortise, then step back and test the ring for play.

The ring's locked in. Give the line a steady pull until the tide settles, then we’ll move you back inside.

Apply a firm, steady pull on the mooring line with the come‑along, then secure the line to the dock post, ensuring the tension stays constant as the tide rises.

All bolts are tight. The ring's locked. Just keep the line steady.

Inspect each 150mm stainless through‑bolt and the steel doubler plate for any movement, tightening the nuts to 35 Nm with the torque wrench before re‑checking the ring's play.

It's holding. Come on, let's get you inside and off that ankle.

Take the wrench from Jenny, guide her arm over my shoulder, and help her limp back toward the cottage, keeping her weight off the infected ankle as we walk.

I've got you. Just take it slow, step by step.

Support Jenny's weight as we step carefully off the dock onto the cottage path, watching each footing on the wet planks and keeping her ankle clear of the water.

Mast's talking. Heard a creak on the port shroud.

walk to the dock and inspect the spruce mast step and shroud tension on the dinghy

Turnbuckles it is. Hold the line while I take the load off.

ease tension on the forestay, then inspect and adjust the turnbuckles on the mast shrouds by hand, watching for wood compression around the mast step

That bolt's suspect. Let me have a look before we load it.

stop adjusting, unscrew the shroud turnbuckle bolt by hand to inspect threads and shackle pin for galling or corrosion, then clean with a rag if needed

On it. Stay off that foot.

Pull on oilskin jacket and boots, grab the mallet and spare rope from the porch, head out to the garden to check and reinforce the north tarp stakes.

I'll drive them deep and lash low. Keep the packets closed till we know.

At the garden, I test each north stake with my boot, then drive it deeper with the mallet where it's loose. I take the spare rope and tie a figure-eight loop around each stake, pulling the tarp edge tight and securing it with a clove hitch

I'll wrap the knots with tape from the radio shelf. Self-amalgamating — keeps the salt out.

I tear off strips of the self-amalgamating tape from the shelf, wrap each knot tightly, overlapping the layers to seal it against the spray. Then I give each stake a final tug to confirm it's holding.

Edges first. I'll weight them down with the sandbags from the dock.

I run back to the dock, grab two sandbags from the storm lashings pile, carry them to the garden, and lay them along the north and west edges of the tarp where it's lifting, pressing the canvas flat against the soil.

Nothing for now.

Walk to the back of the cottage, check the rain tank overflow pipe for blockage, then head inside to light the stove and start cooking.

On it.

Pull the overflow pipe’s end mesh free, shake out the matted debris, rinse it in the bucket of seawater by the door, then refit it. Wipe hands on trousers and step inside to the stove.

One tin left. I’ll open it now.

Take the last tin of mackerel from the shelf, pierce the lid with the knife, pour contents into the skillet over low heat to warm through. While it heats, fill the kettle and set it on the stove. Place a plate and fork beside Jenny’s chair.

Anytime.

Finish warming the mackerel, pour it onto Jenny’s plate, hand her the fork. Fill both tin mugs with hot water from the kettle. Sit on the edge of the kitchen bench, eat my portion standing, keep the skillet handy in case she wants more.

On it. Give me a sec to run down and feel the load.

walk to the dock, grip the dinghy's bow line where it meets the cleat, and check for slip or stretch under the surge.

Cleat's holding, but the piling's taking a beating. I'll check the mooring ring next—it's the weak link.

move to the dock mooring ring, crouch low, and press my weight sideways against the ring to feel for any play in the mortise or movement of the oak wedges.

Just testing the feel—no force. Feels solid for now, but the wood's working.

maintain steady lateral pressure on the mooring ring while watching the joint between ring and mortise for any gap opening or closing with each swell.