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Day 63

Transom, Rat, and Rising Water

Dawn found Kevin crouched at the dinghy, tide fully out, barnacles crusting the dock legs. He ran a finger along the transom. "Transom crack's worse than I thought. Goes right through the glue line." Jenny, spreading sea beet leaves on paper towels by the stove, didn't look up. "Don't use the epoxy yet. It's too humid to cure." "Mm. Knew that." She glanced over. "Check the water tank while you're up. We're close to four hundred." "Checked it yesterday. Three-ninety-four." "Make sure the sea beet is dry. I need it for tonight." The tide turned slow. Kevin worked the hull an hour before water licked the wood. "Starboard's clean. Port next, then I'm clear." Jenny watched from the bench. "Hurry up then. The water is already at the wood." Midday heat pressed heavy, breeze dead. Kevin scanned the shortwave — South Africa news, then static. Jenny measured the tank: 385 litres. A rat scratched behind the pantry shelves. Evening brought tea and tinned corned beef. Kevin's shoulder ached. "Tank's down a bit. I'll top the kettle if you're heating water." "Thanks. I'm par for some tea anyway." "Three-eighty. Leak at the overflow's still weeping." "I'll look at it after I finish these leaves." Dew formed on the porch rail. Fish flashed in the shallows. Kevin keyed the radio. "Nothing on two-one-eight-two or forty-one twenty-five. Insulator tape's still holding." Jenny folded dry leaves. "The boat should be here tomorrow. If they're late, the whole schedule is ruined." "Boat comes when the sea allows. We've got fifty-three days of food. Water's good. Dinghy's got one crack left to glass tomorrow at low tide." She touched a leaf edge. "I need to check the leaves again. If they rot, the whole batch is gone."

Dawn found Kevin crouched at the dinghy, tide fully out, barnacles crusting the dock legs. He ran a finger along the transom. "Transom crack's worse than I thought. Goes right through the glue line." Jenny, spreading sea beet leaves on paper towels by the stove, didn't look up. "Don't use the epoxy yet. It's too humid to cure." "Mm. Knew that." She glanced over. "Check the water tank while you're up. We're close to four hundred." "Checked it yesterday. Three-ninety-four." "Make sure the sea beet is dry. I need it for tonight." The tide turned slow. Kevin worked the hull an hour before water licked the wood. "Starboard's clean. Port next, then I'm clear." Jenny watched from the bench. "Hurry up then. The water is already at the wood." Midday heat pressed heavy, breeze dead. Kevin scanned the shortwave — South Africa news, then static. Jenny measured the tank: 385 litres. A rat scratched behind the pantry shelves. Evening brought tea and tinned corned beef. Kevin's shoulder ached. "Tank's down a bit. I'll top the kettle if you're heating water." "Thanks. I'm par for some tea anyway." "Three-eighty. Leak at the overflow's still weeping." "I'll look at it after I finish these leaves." Dew formed on the porch rail. Fish flashed in the shallows. Kevin keyed the radio. "Nothing on two-one-eight-two or forty-one twenty-five. Insulator tape's still holding." Jenny folded dry leaves. "The boat should be here tomorrow. If they're late, the whole schedule is ruined." "Boat comes when the sea allows. We've got fifty-three days of food. Water's good. Dinghy's got one crack left to glass tomorrow at low tide." She touched a leaf edge. "I need to check the leaves again. If they rot, the whole batch is gone."

Scenes

the dock · dawn

Low Tide Inspection

Kevin is crouched by the dinghy, checking the hull for cracks at the receding waterline. Jenny sits on the nearby bench, spreading damp sea beet leaves across paper towels near the warm wood stove.

The tide is fully out, exposing the barnacle-covered legs of the dock and the muddy floor beneath the dinghy. Kevin prepares to address the hull and inspect the seacocks while the water is low, while Jenny begins to manage the drying seeds in the morning air.

🔧 Kevin11:10

Transom crack's worse than I thought. Goes right through the glue line.

Wipe the seam with a rag, then hold a palm against the wood to feel for damp.

💭 thought
Crack runs six inches along the transom seam, hairline but weeping. Epoxy won't bond wet. Need the tide to drop another foot so I can dry it proper with the torch.
🌿 Jenny11:11

Don't use the epoxy yet. It's too humid to cure.

Lay a sea beet leaf flat on the paper, ensuring the edges don't overlap the next one.

💭 thought
If that boat fails, we're stuck here until the next cycle, and the food is getting low.
🔧 Kevin11:11

Mm. Knew that.

Stand, wipe hands on trousers, and walk back toward the cottage porch where the epoxy tub sits.

💭 thought
She's right. Resin'll blush in this air and never reach full strength. Waste of the last tub.
🌿 Jenny11:13

Check the water tank while you're up. We're close to four hundred.

Pick up the pencil and refine the sketch of the salt glands on the last leaf.

💭 thought
He's ignoring the fact that the boat is our only way out if this fails.
🔧 Kevin11:14

Checked it yesterday. Three-ninety-four.

Step onto the porch, pick up the epoxy tub, weigh it in hand, and set it back on the shelf.

💭 thought
Tank's been holding. Haven't topped it in weeks. Good sign the catchment's clean.
🌿 Jenny11:15

Make sure the sea beet is dry. I need it for tonight.

Stand up and look out at the horizon where the supply boat should be.

💭 thought
Three-ninety-four leaves no room for error if the boat doesn't show tomorrow.

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the dock · morning

Morning work at the waterline

The tide begins to turn slowly, providing a final hour of dry work before the water returns to the dock.

No narrator was available, so nothing about this stretch was recorded.

🔧 Kevin11:15

Kevin — inspect both Yanmar seacocks thoroughly while the tide's low, checking valves, through-hulls, and hose clamps for corrosion or growth.

💭 thought
Good. Tide's still giving me time. Finish the seacocks, then back up before the dock gets slick.
🌿 Jenny11:17

The tide's turning, Kevin. Don't get trapped under the hull.

Walk to the edge of the jetty and watch the water line on the rotting planks.

💭 thought
He's so focused on those valves he hasn't noticed the tide is already licking the pilings.
🔧 Kevin11:17

Starboard's clean. Port next, then I'm clear.

Complete the port seacock inspection, then gather tools and move off the dock before the water reaches the planks.

💭 thought
She's right. Water's creeping up the pilings faster than it looks. Finish the starboard seacock and move.
🌿 Jenny11:19

Hurry up then. The water is already at the wood.

Turn back toward the cottage to check the sea beet leaves on the stove.

💭 thought
If he stays there five minutes longer, he'll have to way the tool box back.

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the keeper's cottage · midday

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

The tide has receded, leaving the rock pools slick with algae and limpets. The midday heat has intensified, and the onshore breeze has slowed to a whisper, making the salt air feel heavy over the cottage.

🌿 Jenny11:21

I'm going to flip the leaves now.

Walk to the wood stove, lift the sea beet leaves from the tray, and check their texture.

💭 thought
The salt is sticking to my skin, and my stomach is starting to growl. I need to check those sea beets before the humidity turns them mush.
🔧 Kevin11:21

Tank's down a bit. I'll top the kettle if you're heating water.

walk to the rain tank at the back wall, wipe the gauge clear, and read the level

💭 thought
Good. Dry leaves store better. I should check the tank level while she's at the stove — haven't looked since breakfast.
🌿 Jenny11:23

Thanks. I'm par for some tea anyway.

Place the kettle on the wood stove and start rearranging the sea beet leaves so they aren't overlapping.

💭 thought
388 litres. way for now, but if the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I'll have to be careful.
🔧 Kevin11:23

Three-eighty. Leak at the overflow's still weeping.

return to the kitchen, pull the epoxy tub from the shelf, and set it on the table beside the radio

💭 thought
380 litres. Down eight from this morning — kettle, washing, the leak at the overflow joint I still haven't patched. Need to mix epoxy and hit that seal before it gets worse.
🌿 Jenny11:25

I'll look at it after I finish these leaves.

Pick up a pencil and start own the morphology of a sea beet leaf in the own.

💭 thought
Three-eighty? We're losing more than I thought. I need to check that seal before the next storm.

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the keeper's cottage · afternoon

Preparation for the Boat

The kettle whistles on the stove as the sun begins to dip, casting long shadows across the kitchen floor where the drying seeds are spread.

Kevin scanned the marine band on the shortwave but heard only a news report about South Africa before static took over. Jenny confirmed the water tank holds 385 litres. A rat was heard scratching in the pantry behind the shelves.

🔧 Kevin11:25

Tea's up.

Pour two mugs, set one on the table near the radio, take the other to the porch step and sit.

💭 thought
Kettle means water's hot. Tea first, then decide if I'm calling Tom tonight or letting another day slide. The radio propagation might hold after sunset — sometimes does, sometimes doesn't.
🌿 Jenny11:27

The humidity is making the leaves curl.

Pick up the pencil and sketch the vein structure of the sea beet leaf.

💭 thought
way's so quiet today, maybe the heat is finally getting to him too.
🔧 Kevin11:28

Leaves curl when the salt pulls water faster than roots can drink. They'll flatten come morning dew.

Sip tea on the porch step, eyes on the western sky where the cloud bank's thinning.

💭 thought
She's recording again. Good. Means the seeds are dry enough to pack soon. The sea beet study's the only thing keeping a rhythm here besides the tide.
🌿 Jenny11:29

If the dew doesn't come, they'll just turn to dust.

Trace the edge of a salt gland in the notebook with a sharp pencil.

💭 thought
He thinks it's that simple, but the salt is already inside the cells here.
🔧 Kevin11:30

Dew always comes. It's the only thing that does.

Finish the mug, set it on the porch rail, walk back inside to the radio shelf and switch the shortwave on.

💭 thought
She's not talking about the beet leaves. She's talking about us, about the garden I never built, about the winter coming and the supply boat that might not show. About whether she stays.
🌿 Jenny11:31

The boat is due tomorrow, regardless of the dew.

Stand up and walk to the water tank to check the level.

💭 thought
way's so certain of a world he doesn't actually see.
🔧 Kevin11:32

Due don't mean here.

Turn the radio volume up slow, let the tubes warm, scan the marine band for the supply boat's usual frequency.

💭 thought
She says it like she believes it. The boat's been late three times in eleven months. Once it didn't come at all for nineteen days. I'll check the barometer again before I commit to the call — if pressure's dropping, the crossing gets ugly and the skipper waits.
🌿 Jenny11:33

We have three hundred and eighty-five left.

Look at the water gauge on the 400-litre tank.

💭 thought
If the boat doesn't show, we're down to the last liters.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening meal and rat trap check

Kevin and Jenny sit at the kitchen table with mugs of tea and tinned corned beef. The stove gives off a steady heat. A snap trap sits by the pantry door. Outside, the tide has turned and the first dew is forming on the porch rail.

The evening air remains heavy and still, despite the lack of rain. The tide is fully out, exposing the slick rocks of the pools and revealing a silver flash of fish moving through the shallows off the dock. Kevin finishes his radio check, feeling the ache in his shoulder, while Jenny manages the drying sea beet leaves on the stove.

🔧 Kevin11:35

Radio check at dusk. If the insulator holds.

finish the tea, set the mug down hard, stand and stretch the shoulder that aches from the lathe work

💭 thought
The trap's set. She's watching me eat. Neither of us mentions the voicemail or the garden I didn't build. The corned beef's salt sits heavy — good for the work tomorrow, bad for the thirst tonight.
🌿 Jenny11:37

I'll check it after I finish the sea much.

Walk to the way and carefully adjust the sea beet leaves to ensure they aren't overlapping.

💭 thought
He's so worried about the radio, but doesn't see the rot eating through the floorboards.
🔧 Kevin11:37

The mullet run again at slack?

walk to the porch, lift the shortwave headphones off the hook, test the static level on channel 16

💭 thought
She said "sea much" and means the seed book. The slip sits in the air between us. I don't correct her. The beet leaves make a neat green row on the paper — she's precise even when tired.
🌿 Jenny11:39

Maybe. The water was warm in the lower pools today.

Pick up the notebook and sketch the current tide line on the stone wall.

💭 thought
If the boat doesn't come tomorrow, we're out of salt.
🔧 Kevin11:40

Glass the transom first light. Seacocks after.

turn the radio dial slowly through 2182, 2638, 2206 — listening for the supply boat's usual frequency

💭 thought
Warm water in the lower pools. Mullet follow the temperature. She's marking the tide line like it's data, like the wall won't erode it by morning. I should've glassed the transom today. The crack's not waiting.
🌿 Jenny11:41

Don't forget to check the trap before then.

Walk to the stove and check the moisture of the sea beet leaves.

💭 thought
He thinks a schedule will save us when the tank runs low.

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the keeper's cottage · night

The Night Watch

Kevin and Jenny gather in the kitchen as the temperature drops, waiting for the supply boat tomorrow.

Kevin and Jenny spend the humid evening inside the cottage preparing for the supply boat's arrival. Kevin secures the pantry against the rat activity noted earlier while Jenny organizes the drying heirloom seeds near the warmth of the stove.

🌿 Jenny11:43

Check the radio one last time before bed. We need to know if they are close.

Spread the remaining sea beet leaves on the paper towels and check the water tank level.

💭 thought
If that boat doesn't show, we'll be out of tackle by end of next week.
🔧 Kevin11:43

Aye. Tank's at three-seventy-nine. Rat's quiet tonight.

walk to the radio shelf and flip the power switch, scanning 2182 and 4125 for the supply boat's call sign

💭 thought
Radio won't change what's coming, but she needs me to do it. Tank's holding. Should check the insulator tape while I'm up.
🌿 Jenny11:45

Don't let the leaves touch. The humidity is still a thief tonight.

Carefully arrange the sea beet leaves on the stove surface and sketch the salt glands from the tide pool study.

💭 thought
Three-seventy-nine... we're losing more than I think every day.
🔧 Kevin11:46

Nothing on two-one-eight-two or forty-one twenty-five. Insulator tape's still holding.

turn the radio volume down and set the squelch, then pull a chair to the table and watch Jenny's sketching hand

💭 thought
Static on both frequencies. They're not close enough to hear, or they're not talking. Insulator tape's holding for now. Crack hasn't grown since this afternoon.
🌿 Jenny11:47

The boat should be here tomorrow. If they're late, the whole schedule is ruined.

Sharpen the pencil and finish the morphology sketch of the sea beet in the notebook.

💭 thought
He's watching my hand again. He's not looking at the plants.
🔧 Kevin11:49

Boat comes when the sea allows. We've got fifty-three days of food. Water's good. Dinghy's got one crack left to glass tomorrow at low tide.

reach for the tea mug, find it cold, and set it back down without drinking

💭 thought
Schedule means nothing to weather. She knows that. She's talking to fill the quiet.
🌿 Jenny11:50

I need to check the leaves again. If they rot, the whole batch is gone.

Move the sea beet leaves on the paper towels to ensure they are perfectly spaced out.

💭 thought
Fifty-three days feels like a lifetime if the boat doesn't come.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.
plan · dawn
×2
Jenny made a sketch: "The salt glands on the last leaf".
made · dawn
Yanmarmar sleeve: 90%.
project · dawn
seacock inspection: 10%.
project · dawn
sea beet morphology study: 60%.
project · dawn
No model answered — the scene closed quietly on its own.
quiet_transition · morning
Kevin and Jenny ate.
meal · morning
Yanmarmarmar sleeve: 20%.
project · midday
seacock inspection: 20%.
project · midday
sea beet morphology study: 70%.
project · midday
Jenny made a sketch: "Vein structure of the sea beet leaf".
made · afternoon
A rat has gotten into the pantry.
rat · afternoon
Found: rat in pantry.
item · afternoon
water tank holds 385 litres of 400 capacity
discovery · afternoon
Jenny made a sketch: "Current tide line on the stone wall".
made · evening
A fish run is moving through the shallows off the dock.
fish_run · evening
Yanmarmarmar sleeve: 30%.
project · evening
seacock inspection: 30%.
project · evening
sea beet morphology study: 80%.
project · evening
Kevin and Jenny ate.
meal · evening
Jenny made a sketch: "Salt glands from the tide pool study".
made · night
Kevin made a sketch: "Hand".
made · night
Jenny made a sketch: "The sea beet in the notebook".
made · night
Yanmarmar sleeve is finished.
project_done · night
seacock inspection: 40%.
project · night
sea beet morphology study: 90%.
project · night

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

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