Day 628

The Rising Surge

Dawn found Jenny on the dock, ankle propped on a crate, sketching the cellular structure of a sea beet while the barometer needle slid downward. Kevin knelt by the Yanmar, listening to the pump housing whine. "Whine's the pump housing. Bore's scored. Impeller shaft walks at load," he said, wiping his hands. "Ran clean at 2800 yesterday. But if the intake clogs — " He nodded at the cloud bank. "Won't push it past half throttle until the window closes or the helo shows."

The tide rose faster than predicted. Swell reached the dock planks. The dinghy mooring ring groaned in its mortise. Jenny limped toward the cottage, clutching her notebook. "The sky is too heavy. It'll break before noon," she said.

Rain drove them inside by midday. They shared limpet broth, watching the barometer hold at 999 hPa. Jenny's ankle throbbed despite the warm soak. "Kit's got four doxycycline. Gauze roll and a half. Antiseptic's gone," Kevin said. "Salt soaks and sea beet poultice are holding the line. But if the helo scrubs and the infection spreads —"

Afternoon brought steady roar on the roof. Kevin checked generator lashings. Jenny dogged the west porch shutters but split the frame on the first pilot hole, improvising with greenheart shims and longer bolts. A jellyfish bloom drifted into the bay.

Evening: Kevin retrieved salt-pine knee blanks from the shed while Jenny debrided her ankle and applied a fresh sea beet poultice. Night found them at the east shutter, barometer at 998 hPa. Kevin drilled pilot holes through frame and knee blank, drove 10mm through-bolts with washers and nyloc nuts. Jenny seated greenheart shims with the mallet, confirming the mortise tight and free of rot, then began countersinking for bolt heads.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The Rising Pressure

Jenny sits on the edge of the dock, her ankle propped on a crate as she watches the thickening clouds. Kevin kneels by the Yanmar engine, listening to the persistent whine while the barometer needle continues its slow drop.

The tide is high and the swell is already pushing water over the dock planks. The sky is a heavy, flat grey, with cloud cover thickening as the pressure continues to drop. Jenny sits on the dock, sketching the cellular structure of a sea beet in her notebook, while Kevin monitors the horizon for the supply boat or a helicopter.

🌿 Jenny08:05

The pressure is dropping fast, Kevin. Don't push the engine if the rain starts.

wayens a pencil and begins to sketch the cellular structure of the sea much's salt way despite the throbbing in her leg.

💭 thought

If that boat doesn't come in six days, this infection is going to reach the bone, and I'll be a skeleton in this cottage while the seeds rot in the tin.

🔧 Kevin08:07

Whine's the pump housing. Bore's scored. Impeller shaft walks at load." I wipe my hands on a rag, not looking up. "Ran clean at 2800 yesterday. But if the intake clogs — " I nod at the thickening cloud bank. "Won't push it past half throttle until the window closes or the helo shows.

check the raw water intake strainer for kelp buildup, then secure the engine cover and lash the dinghy's storm anchor warp tighter to the mooring ring

💭 thought

She's watching the sky and the engine both. The whine's the raw water pump housing bore — scored from salt corrosion. Ran it at load yesterday, held 2800 RPM clean, but that whine means the impeller shaft's walking in its bore. If the rain hits hard and the intake pulls kelp, the engine overheats fast. She knows the sound as well as I do.

🌿 Jenny08:08

way make sure the intake is clear. I don't need an overheat when the tide turns.

presses the pencil harder against the notebook, trying to way the gland density of the sea beet before the humidity makes the paper too soft to hold.

💭 thought

He's worried about the mechanics, and I'm watching the biology of my own leg fail. We are both brittle.

🔧 Kevin08:08

Intake's clear. Checked it at first light." I straighten, knees popping. "Strainer's clean. Warp's doubled on the north piling. Dinghy's as ready as she gets.

walk to the dock edge and scan the horizon for the supply boat or helicopter, then check the barometer reading again

💭 thought

She's recording data with an infection tracking up her leg and a helicopter maybe coming to take her off this rock. The pencil pressure's too hard — paper's damp, she'll tear it. But she's right about the intake. Kelp rides the flood tide straight into the strainer.

🌿 Jenny08:09

The sky is too heavy. It'll break before noon.

closes the notebook with a sharp wince as a wave of pain shoots through her ankle.

💭 thought

He's looking for a boat, and I'm looking at the cells under my skin. Both are waiting for a miracle.

🔧 Kevin08:10

"Tom said 0900 launch if window holds." I keep my voice level. "Cloud base drops below two hundred, they scrub. Your call either way.

pour two mugs of the limpet broth from the pot on the stove, set one on the porch railing beside her notebook, and sit on the crate opposite with my own

💭 thought

She's calling it. Sky's got that bruised purple-green under the grey — heavy wet air, pressure still sliding. Helicopter window at 0900, Tom said. It's past 0700 now. If the cloud deck drops to the deck, the helo won't launch. She knows it. I know it. The wince she tried to hide tells me the antibiotics aren't catching up yet.

🌿 Jenny08:11

If they don't come, I'm running out of gauze for this thing anyway.

reaches for the mug, her fingers trembling slightly as she watches the steam rise into the flat, grey air.

💭 thought

He's giving me the choice because he knows I can't walk to the boat if it actually comes in the rough.

🔧 Kevin08:12

Kit's got four doxycycline. Gauze roll and a half. Antiseptic's gone." I wrap my hands around my mug, letting the heat soak in. "Salt soaks and sea beet poultice are holding the line. But if the helo scrubs and the infection spreads —

check the medical kit inventory properly, then radio Tom on the shortwave for a 0900 weather and launch update

💭 thought

Four doses of doxycycline left. Metronidazole finished. Gauze is low. She's stating facts, not complaining. The tremor in her fingers — could be fever, could be the pain, could be the weight of a decision she doesn't want to make out loud. The broth's hot. She needs calories. I need to check the medical kit inventory again and see what's actually left.

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the dock · morning

The Approaching Squ

The tide is at its peak, and the first heavy drops of salt rain begin to brush the spruce mast.

The tide is rising faster than predicted, and the swell is reaching the surface of the dock. The dinghy mooring ring groans in its mortise, shifting under the load of the surge as Jenny limps toward the cottage, clutching her notebook to her chest to keep it dry from the salt spray.

🌿 Jenny08:13

Kevin, get the wayhy under the tarp!

Grabs the notebook and the pencil case, limps own the way while clutching her throbbing ankle.

💭 thought

The rain is going to ruin the sketches if I don't get them to the cottage now.

🔧 Kevin08:14

On it. You get to the porch.

Release the dinghy's bow line from the cleat, pull the dinghy in close alongside the dock, and secure it with the doubled stern spring and bow line with proper slack for swell, then throw the heavy-duty tarp over the dinghy and batten it do

💭 thought

She's moving too fast on that ankle. Rain's coming down hard now — need to get the dinghy secured and her under cover before the dock gets treacherous.

🌿 Jenny08:15

Watch the lines!

Limps toward the cottage, pressing the notebook tight against her chest to keep it dry from the spray.

💭 thought

If that way catches the wind, it'll rip the whole wayhy into the surf.

🔧 Kevin08:16

Lines are good. Go.

Check the chafe guards on the stern spring and bow line where they run over the dock edge and mooring ring, then walk back to the cottage porch.

💭 thought

She's white-knuckling that notebook. Ankle's bad and she's still pushing. Lines are holding but the swell's building — need to check the chafe points before they saw through.

🌿 Jenny08:17

I'm going inside.

Limps onto the porch steps, wincing as the weight shifts on the infected ankle, and kicks the door open.

💭 thought

I can't feel my toes anymore, just the heat and the salt.

🔧 Kevin08:18

Door sticks. Don't kick it. I'll plane it later.

Follow her onto the porch, close the door behind me, and latch it against the wind.

💭 thought

Door sticks in the damp. She shouldn't be kicking anything with that leg. Need to get the porch step fixed and the door planed — later. Right now she needs to sit, elevate, and stay dry.

🌿 Jenny08:19

way keep it shut.

Limps into the kitchen, drops the wet notebook on the table, and collapses into a chair, breathing through the pain.

💭 thought

He's always fixing the wood while my leg is rotting off.

🔧 Kevin08:20

Sit still. I'll get the kettle.

Lift the kettle from the stove, pour hot water into the tin mug, set it on the table beside her, then pull a chair over and prop her bad leg up on it with a folded blanket.

💭 thought

Notebook's soaked at the edges. She's shaking — pain or fever, maybe both. Ankle needs elevation and the antibiotic's due. Kettle's still on the stove from this morning.

🌿 Jenny08:25

Thanks.

Reaches for the notebook with shaking hands, checking if the sea beet sketches are smudged.

💭 thought

The heat in the mug is nice, but the skin is still tight.

🔧 Kevin08:25

Ink's waterproof. Leave it.

Pick up the antibiotic blister pack from the shelf, pop two tablets onto the table, and push the mug toward her.

💭 thought

Paper's tougher than it looks. The sketches'll hold if she stops handling them with wet fingers. She needs the antibiotic down her and the leg kept up. Mug's warm — good.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · midday

The Rising Surge

Inside the cottage, the sound of the water hitting the pilings grows louder as the tide reaches the high-level of the dock planks.

The rain intensifies from the west, forcing Kevin and Jenny indoors inside the cottage. They share a pot of limpet broth while watching the barometer continue its slow fall. Jenny's ankle remains throbbing despite the warm soak.

🔧 Kevin08:26

Water's up on the planks already. You want the radio on for the 0900 window, or you keeping the battery for later?

walk to the kitchen shelf and switch on the shortwave, letting it warm up while I pull the kettle toward the stove

💭 thought

Tide's higher than it should be at this hour. Barometer's steady but the swell's pushing harder — wind shift offshore maybe. Need to check the dock ring tell-tales at high water.

🌿 Jenny08:27

Leave it on. I need to hear the static.

Open the notebook to the sea much sketch and rub a drop of water off the page with my thumb.

💭 thought

If the boat doesn't come in six days, this infection is going to be the least of my problems.

🔧 Kevin08:34

Kettle's heating. Mug or tin?

set two tin mugs on the table and spoon coffee into the pot, waiting for the boil

💭 thought

She's tracking the gland density gradient at the storm line. Smart — the salt stress shows in the cellular structure before the leaves wilt. Radio static means she's listening for the helo's approach pattern through the interference.

🌿 Jenny08:42

Tin. And pour it strong.

Wipe the ankle with a dry cloth and wrap it tighter with gauze.

💭 thought

The kettle's already making noise, but I need the coffee to sober up.

🔧 Kevin08:42

Strong it is.

pour boiling water over the grounds, let it steep, then press two mugs across the table toward her

💭 thought

Ankle's still weeping through the dressing. She's not showing the pain but the wrap's tighter than yesterday — compensating for swelling. Coffee'll help the fever edge if she drinks it.

🌿 Jenny08:51

Thanks.

Take a long sip of the coffee and look at the sea beet sketch.

💭 thought

My ankle is throbbing so hard I can feel the pulse in my teeth.

🔧 Kevin08:51

Barometer's holding 999. If it doesn't drop past 980 by the turn, the window holds.

sit opposite her with my own mug, watching the steam rise, not pressing

💭 thought

She's reading the gland density like a barometer. The sketch tells her what the tide's doing to the plants — and by extension, to us. Coffee's hot, she's not rushing it. Good sign.

🌿 Jenny08:53

It has to.

Trace the edge of the sea beet sketch in the notebook with a shaky finger.

💭 thought

I hope it holds. I can't clear that spruce trunk if I'm stuck in this chair.

Open this scene on its own page →

the keeper's cottage · afternoon

The Storm Settles In

The rain turns to a steady roar, drumming on the roof as the wind picks up from the west. Kevin and Jenny are trapped inside the cottage until the weather breaks or the tide turns.

Kevin checked the generator storm lashings and found them secure. Jenny began dogging the west porch shutters but split the frame on the first pilot hole, forcing her to improvise a repair with greenheart shims and longer bolts. The barometer held at 999 hPa while the west wind strengthened, and a jellyfish bloom drifted into the bay.

🔧 Kevin08:54

Pressure's holding but wind's shifting west. If it drops below 980 we'll want the porch shutters dogged down before nightfall.

Walk to the porch door and check the barometer reading again, then glance at the sky through the window.

💭 thought

The barometer's still at 999 but the wind's backing west — that's the pattern I've seen before. Storm hits the cottage broadside when it comes from that quarter. Need to check the shutters and the generator lashings before dark if this holds.

🌿 Jenny08:55

999 and steady for now, but that west wind's building. I'll dog the shutters down - better safe than watching them blow off in the dark.

grab the spare roll of heavy-duty tarp from the porch rail and head toward the west-facing shutters, then walk to the tool rack and grab the cordless drill and stainless bolts needed for secure fastening.

💭 thought

The barometer shows 999 hPa and steady, but Kevin's concern about 980 suggests the pressure might continue dropping. His wind shift observation aligns with the weather pattern I've been tracking. I need to secure the shutters regardless of his threshold since the storm's already intensifying.

🔧 Kevin08:57

Longer stainless bolts are in the red tin on the shelf. Greenheart shims beside them — the mortises are chewed out. Drill pilot holes first or you'll split the frame.

Turn back to the kitchen, pull the heavy wrench from the tool roll, and head for the generator shed to check the storm lashings before the wind gets worse.

💭 thought

She's moving before I can say different. Good — means she's not waiting for permission. The west shutters take the brunt and the hinge mortises are soft from last season's rot. She'll need the longer bolts and the greenheart shims we cut.

🌿 Jenny09:03

I'll use the shims. I've got the drill.

go to the shelf to find the red tin, retrieve the long bolts and greenheart shims, then limp to the porch to begin marking the pilot holes on the shutter frame.

💭 thought

He's right about the wood; the greenheart is soft from the salt rot and will split like dry kind. I need to be precise. My ankle is throbbing with every step, but the shutters have to stay up.

🔧 Kevin09:03

Kevin — walk out the kitchen door, cross the porch, and head down the path to the generator shed, wrench in hand.

💭 thought

She knows the job. Let her work. The generator lashings were ratchet-strapped last week but the wind's been working on them — should verify the tension before the real gusts hit. Radio aerial insulator held through the last blow but the coax connection at the mast base gets water in the ferrule if the tape lifts.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening on the porch

Kevin and Jenny sit together on the porch as rain hammers the tarp. The west shutters are secured with improvised repairs. The barometer reads 999 hPa, wind west and rising. A jellyfish bloom fills the bay. They share a tin mug of limpet broth and watch the weather.

Kevin retrieved salt-pine knee blanks and hardware from the garden shed while Jenny debrided her infected ankle and applied a fresh sea beet poultice. Both worked under the pressure of a falling barometer and shifting wind.

🔧 Kevin09:06

Barometer's holding. Wind's the tell now.

Sip broth, eyes on the treeline where the wind shows itself.

💭 thought

The broth's hot in my fingers, salt and iron. She's quiet beside me — not the quiet of nothing to say, the quiet of deciding. The barometer hasn't moved in an hour but the wind's teeth are showing. If the helo comes tomorrow, she'll have to choose before the window closes. If it doesn't... we ride it out like we have before. Either way the garden's still half weeds.

🌿 Jenny09:07

It's holding now, but at 999 we're in the danger zone. West wind means the shutters won't take the full force - we need to secure the tarp before the shutters, or the spray'll fry the coils." (I set the limpet broth mug down, leaning forward with the edge of my medical kit) "The frame's compromised but holding. That's not good enough for what's coming.

💭 thought

Barometer's at 999 and falling - that's the window closing fast. West wind means the storm's going to hit broadside. The frame repair held but that split mortise is still a weak point. Need to get everything horizontal before the rain drives sideways.

🔧 Kevin09:07

Radio tarp first. Then the east shutter — it's the weak sister.

Set mug on the porch rail, stand, move toward the radio mast where the tarp's battened down.

💭 thought

She's read the same lessons I wrote. Knows the hierarchy: radio first, shutters second, everything else follows. The frame split on the first mortise — greenheart shims and through-bolts bought us time, not safety. If the tarp goes, the radio goes. If the radio goes, Tom's coordinates are just numbers on paper.

🌿 Jenny09:09

East shutter's got the same rot as west - checked this morning. But the tarp's already down. I need to get the east shutter secured before the wind shifts. (I push off the porch step, grabbing my medical kit bag) The frame's got the same split issue - greenheart shims won't hold if the wind backs southwest.

walk to the east side of the cottage, check the shutter frame for damage, examine available timber for repairs, assess the current state of the radio tarp installation.

💭 thought

East shutter's the weak sister - that's what he said. But the tarp's already secured over the radio and generator, battened with timber strips. The east shutter's frame is rotten too, and the barometer's still dropping. If it hits 990 with southwest wind, we're in serious trouble. I need to check if I have enough timber for both repairs.

🔧 Kevin09:09

Take the 150mm bolts from the workshop shelf. Cedar wedges in the drawer. Epoxy tub's near empty — use what's left on the mortises.

Follow her to the east side, pull the shutters closed to see the frame alignment, test the mortise play with my fingers.

💭 thought

She's moving on the ankle. Stubborn as the bolt heads I rounded off yesterday. The east shutter frame showed the same end-grain rot when I fitted the west — knew it would. Greenheart shims are a bandage, not a fix. But she's right: if the wind backs southwest, the east face takes the hammer. Radio tarp's battened with split timber strips, holding for now. Need longer stainless through-bolts, epoxy at the mortises, and the cedar wedges I used on the porch door hinge. Should've done both shutters when I had the wood green.

🌿 Jenny09:15

"I'll need the larger wedges. The gap is too big for just epoxy." (I wince as I shift weight off my ankle, the throbbing spiking in the heat.)

lean against the frame to stabilize the split, trace the grain of the wood with my thumb, look for signs of further rot.

💭 thought

The mortise is wider than I thought. If I don't shim it right, the whole thing will rip out when the first gust hits.

🔧 Kevin09:15

Salt-pine knees in the shed. Two blanks, grain-followed. Sister the mortises, bolt through. I'll fetch them.

Turn toward the garden shed, stride out past the garden wall.

💭 thought

The split runs the full mortise depth — same as the west. End-grain rot ate the tenon shoulders clean through. Epoxy alone won't bridge it; the wood's too far gone. Greenheart shims packed the west side but the frame still flexed under the bolt load. Need the salt-pine knee blanks I rough-cut last week — grain-followed for shear strength. Two of them, splintered ends but the hearts are sound. Sister them into the mortises, bolt through the lot. That's the repair that holds.

🌿 Jenny09:17

"Bring the long ones. This frame won't take the lateral pressure." (I sit heavily on the porch bench, pulling my ankle up to inspect it.)

lay out the medical kit, arrange the saline and fresh gauze, prepare the debridement tools.

💭 thought

way's moving faster than I am. I need to get the saline ready before he gets back.

🔧 Kevin09:17

Back in ten.

Walk to the garden shed, retrieve two salt-pine knee blanks, grab the 150mm stainless through-bolts and cedar wedges from the workshop shelf, carry back to the east shutter.

💭 thought

She's doing the ankle work while I fetch timber. Right order — radio tarp's holding, east shutter's the open gate. The salt-pine blanks are heavy, grain twisted but sound at the core. Cut them for dock knees originally, never used them. Perfect for this. The 150mm stainless through-bolts are on the workshop shelf with the cedar wedges. Epoxy residue in the tub — enough for the mortise faces if I'm careful.

🌿 Jenny09:19

"Hurry. The pressure is dropping faster than the forecast." (I soak the gauze in saline, hands shaking slightly as I approach the swollen skin.)

debride the ankle with saline, clean the wound, apply the sea beet poultice.

💭 thought

My ankle is pulsing in time with the rain. If I don't get this infection under, I'll lose the leg before the boat even arrives.

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the keeper's cottage · night

East shutter sistering under falling pressure

Kevin and Jenny stand at the east shutter with salt-pine knee blanks, through-bolts, and wedges staged. The barometer reads 998 hPa and steady. Wind gusts from the southwest rattle the radio tarp. Rain falls warm and intermittent. They begin trimming and fitting the sister knees to the split mortise before the storm window closes.

Kevin drilled two pilot holes through the east shutter frame and salt-pine knee blank, then drove the 10mm through-bolts with washers and nyloc nuts. Jenny seated the greenheart shims with the mallet, confirming the mortise is tight and free of rot, and began countersinking for the bolt heads.

🔧 Kevin09:19

Grain runs straight. Just the ends need trimming. You want to mark the mortise depth or shall I?

pull a block plane from the tool roll and begin trimming the splintered ends off the first salt-pine knee blank, checking the grain direction with each pass

💭 thought

The wind's backed southwest. That tarp flapped hard — if the barometer drops another millibar, the shutters take the full hit. Salt-pine's good wood but these blanks are splintered at the ends. Need clean bearing surfaces or the load transfers wrong.

🌿 Jenny09:23

Mark the mortise depth on the second one — I'll handle the through-bolts while you plane. Need to check if this split took cleanly or if there's hidden rot.

check the split mortise for hidden rot with magnifying glass and flashlight

💭 thought

The barometer's holding at 998 while the wind gusts from the southwest — that's the pattern we trained for. Radio tarp needs securing before the shutters when pressure drops below 960. But we've got time to fit these knees first.

🔧 Kevin09:23

On it. Call it if you find soft wood.

mark the mortise depth on the second knee blank with a pencil and square, then resume planing the first blank's ends to clean bearing surfaces

💭 thought

She's right to check. Salt gets in a split like this and eats from the inside out. If there's rot past the surface, a sister knee won't hold — the bolts just pull through. Good she caught it before we commit.

🌿 Jenny09:25

It's clean. No rot, just salt-stress. Pass me the shims, I want to test the fit before the rain gets heavier.

press the greenheart shims into the mortise to check the gap

💭 thought

The wood is solid, but my ankle is screaming in time with the pulse. If this infection hits the bone, I'm never going to clear that spruce trunk. I'm hungry and miserable.

🔧 Kevin09:25

Shims are in the canvas roll by your knee. Three tapered, two flat.

hand her the canvas roll of greenheart shims, then set the first planed knee blank into the mortise to check seating

💭 thought

Clean split. Salt-stress means the wood's still sound, just worked loose by cycles. Greenheart shims'll take the compression. She's methodical — tests before she commits. That's why the shutters held last time.

🌿 Jenny09:27

It holds. Give me the mallet, I'm going to seat the shims properly.

tap the knee blank into the mortise with the mallet

💭 thought

The fit is tight, just how it needs to be. If I can get these shutters dogged, maybe I can focus on the fever instead of the ankle throbbing through the gauze.

🔧 Kevin09:27

Mallet's on the rail.

pick up the mallet from the porch rail and pass it to her, then pick up the 10mm through-bolts and washers to stage them for the drilling

💭 thought

She's seating it tight. Good. The mallet's on the porch rail where I left it. Once the shims bite, the load spreads across the whole sister knee, not just the bolts. Wind can push what it wants after that.

🌿 Jenny09:31

Drill the pilot holes now, I'll pre-mark the bolt locations. The west shutter's holding, but this east frame's splitting from the inside. Drill through the center of these marks. I'll countersink for the washers.

mark the through-bolt locations with the pencil </think>THOUGHT: Pilot holes need to go in before the rain swells the wood further.

💭 thought

Through-bolts are staged. Need to drill pilot holes before the wood swells more from the rain. The pressure's steady at 998, but I can't afford to wait for it to drop.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Cellular structure of the sea much's salt way despite the throbbing in her leg".

made · dawn

The tide is rising faster than predicted; the swell is reaching the dock surface.

discovery · dawn

Jenny made a sketch: "Re smudged".

made · morning

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "Nd rub a drop of water off the page with my thumb".

made · midday

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · midday

A jellyfish bloom has drifted into the bay, pale and slow.

jellyfish · afternoon

A new project: porch shutter stormproofing.

project_started · afternoon

jellyfish bloom drifting into the bay, pale and slow

discovery · afternoon

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

porch shutter stormproofing: 20%.

project · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

porch shutter stormproofing: 30%.

project · night

Found: 10mm stainless through-bolts with washers and nyloc nuts.

item · night

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · night

← Day 627 Day 629 →

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