Day 578

Going for the crate. Forty minutes of tide left.

walk down to the dock, grab the crowbar and rope coiled by the mooring ring, wade in to the floating crate, loop rope through its rusted handles, haul it hand-over-hand onto the dock planking

Current's on the flood side. I'll work the lee.

reposition to the lee of the dock pilings, brace feet against the seaward plank, heave the crate up the slick boards using the rope and body weight, slide it clear of the tide line onto dry planking

Got it.

grunt the crate the last foot onto dry planking, kick the rope free, wipe salt-slick hands on thighs, crouch to examine the crate's lid and blurred stencil markings

Aye.

work the crowbar gently along the crate's lid seam, starting at a corner, letting the wood breathe before prying deeper

If it's wet, we reseal and move it to the porch. Dry it slow.

keep working the crowbar along the seam, widening the gap a fraction at a time, watching for moisture or condensation on the inner wood

Grab the other end. Porch. Now.

drop the crowbar, seize one end of the crate, and haul it up the jetty toward the cottage with Jenny taking the other end

You don't. I've got it. Walk ahead, clear the path.

shift grip to bear the crate's full weight myself, backing up the jetty slow and steady, letting Jenny hobble forward unburdened to hold the cottage door

On it. Crate stays dry under the tarp — tide's not high enough to reach the porch yet.

walk to the porch edge, pull on oilskin trousers and boots, step down onto the slick dock planking, crouch at the bow and haul in the warp hand over hand to check the shackle and chain for fouling or wear

Checking the pin and housing now. If it's gone, I'll swim the spare shackle from the workshop — water's not that cold.

haul the warp in until the shackle breaks surface, grip it with both hands, inspect the pin seating and housing for cracks or elongation, test pin rotation with fingers

Housing's flared. Pin's walking. No spare shackle — lost the replacement. Going to seize this one with wire and serving twine, then splice the warp direct to the anchor ring as backup. Be ten minutes.

pull the shackle fully aboard, fetch seizing wire and sail twine from the ditch bag, wrap tight figure-eight seizings on the pin shoulders, then form a long splice in the warp eye around the anchor ring, serving it heavy with twine

(nothing — hands busy, mouth shut)

finish the last serving turns on the splice, haul the warp tight to test the seize, coil the bitter end back into the ditch bag, then jog up the dock planking toward the cottage porch

Splice takes the load direct. Shackle's just backup now. Low tide's in two hours — if the swell drops I'll dive the old mooring site for the spare shackle. You need saline for that gauze.

step onto the porch, shake off oilskins, enter the kitchen, pull the saline bottle from the medical shelf, set it on the table beside her with a clean bowl

On it.

walk down the dock to the dinghy, inspect both stern springs and the bow line for chafe and tension, adjust if needed

Seen it. Got spare chafe guard in the ditch bag.

climb into the dinghy, pull the bow line slack, wrap the spare chafe guard around the piling contact point and seize it with sail twine, then re-tension the line

They're tight. Gonna run a breast line to the north piling — keep her from sawing back and forth.

grab the spare warp from the ditch bag, run a breast line from the dinghy's midships cleat to the north piling, take up the slack and cleat it off

Got it. Leaving two feet of play for the ebb.

ease the breast line until the dinghy rides level at the trough, cleat it off with that much slack, then jog back up the dock to the porch

Stay off it. I'll bring it up.

walk down to the dock to recover the crate

Kevin — grab the crowbar and come-along from the dock locker, hook the come-along to the cleat, and lever the crate's lid enough to check the seal before hauling it up the ramp

Dry inside. Tinned provisions — corned beef, coffee, beans. New rope, half-inch three-strand, fifteen metres. Trust stamp on the crate, not supply boat. Someone sent extras without asking.

haul the crate up the ramp onto the porch planking, then pry the lid fully off and start inventorying tins onto the porch floor

Not from the trust. No note, no manifest. Coffee's in glass — they never send glass. Six corned beef, four beans, one coffee. Rope's new. Someone knew we were low.

stack the tins in two neat rows on the porch, set the coffee jar aside, coil the new rope beside them, and walk back to the dock to check the mooring ring tell-tales while the tide's still low

Either Tom's listening when I don't transmit, or the trust sent it quiet. Either way, they knew the boat was late and we were down to five days of beef.

reach the dock, inspect the mooring ring for movement, check the oak wedges in the mortise, and verify the tell-tale lashings are still tight before the tide turns