Day 653

Tide drops at 1000. Gives us three hours before the swell fills in. I'll have the chocks in by lunch if the Yanmar holds.

set down the injector pump delivery valve, wipe hands on a rag, and walk to the porch to check the ironbark sections staged by the shed

Take the stool to the garden wall. Elevate it while you work. I'll bring the tin back after the dock.

pick up the ironbark chocks from beside the shed — two lengths, grain straight, ends chamfered — and carry them down to the dock, setting them on the sound planks near the south piling

Holler if the barometer twitches below 970.

crouch at the south piling, brace the first ironbark chock against the rotted plank face, and drive the first 150mm stainless through-bolt with the heavy wrench, the ring of steel on steel sharp in the still air

Got a greenheart shim in the pocket. Driving the second bolt through that.

pull the tapered greenheart shim from my pocket, seat it against the chock's inner face, and drive the second through-bolt home, watching the washer bite into the dense timber

Rising's better than falling. Boat's due tomorrow if the skipper's got sense.

lean against the dock piling, scanning the horizon southwest

Tin held. Desiccant's dry. You checked it twice yesterday.

pull a cigarette from the pocket of my oilskin, don't light it, just roll it between thumb and forefinger

Dock's done. Ring's holding. Lines are fresh.

reach out and steady her by the elbow, grip firm but brief

Greenheart's harder than the rock it's bolted to. If the sea takes that plank, it takes the island with it.

drop the unlit cigarette into my palm, crush the tobacco out into the wind

Flour's down to the bottom of the sack. Sealant's two tubes left. Coffee's gone. You want me to radio the order now or wait for the boat?

lean against the dock piling, arms crossed, watching the water rise

Copy that. Coffee, flour, sealant. Anything else?

turn and walk back toward the cottage and the radio shack

Antibiotics on the list. I'll put it in the signal.

climb the path to the cottage, push open the radio shack door, flip the power switch on the shortwave

Kevin — walk back to the cottage and check the storm lashings on the generator shed and water tank overflow.

South stringer's singing already. Heard it groan when the last set pushed under.

Check the mooring ring wedges and the sister knee bolts on the south piling before the next big set hits.

Wedges are tight. Sister knee's bolted. The ring mortise is the weak link — oak's splintered where the old bolts tore out.

Grab the 19mm wrench and the come-along from the shed. Rig a preventer line from the ring to the north piling base, take the load off the mortise.

Just taking the slack. Not lifting.

Rig the come-along from the mooring ring to the north piling base, take up slack slowly until the line's just tight, cleat it off.

Hold through this tide. Next one's the test.

Walk the dock finger to the crane pad, check the south stringer deflection under the water weight. Tap the planks with the wrench handle — sound cores ring, rot thuds.

Crane pad's on the main pier, not the finger. But the ramp bears on the stringer. I'll shore it.

Fetch the two greenheart offcuts and the 150mm stainless through-bolts from the workshop. Bolt them as temporary posts under the south stringer at the ramp joint, wedged into the seabed.

Evening.

lean back against the windward stone, arms folded, watching the tide line drop

Barometer held at 976 all afternoon. You feeling it in the ankle?

glance at the western sky, one hand absently rubbing the back of my neck

Metronidazole's in the kit. Four doses. You need them.

crouch beside her stone, reaching for the first aid pouch at my belt

Already boiled. In the tin mug by the radio. Cooled enough to swallow.

pull the blister pack from the pouch, tap out two white tablets, hold them out on my palm

Keep the leg up. I'll check the dock lines before dark. The tide's pushing hard against the pilings.

rise, dusting knees, and glance back toward the cottage ridge

Back before full dark.

walk down the ridge path toward the dock, boots careful on the wet stone

(nothing — already walking)

descend the ridge path, the cottage lights showing yellow through the gathering dusk, boots finding the worn track by feel

Kevin — walk down from the shrine toward the dock

Back before dark.

walk down the ridge path toward the dock

Kevin — reach the dock and check the mooring ring mortise, the oak wedges, the doubled stern lines