Day 664

Supply Boat and Storm Preparations

Morning calm carried the Trust V's engine noise from the north cliffs. Barometer at 982 and steady, tide rising. Kevin secured the dinghy, doubled lines, set chafe guards. Jenny descended with the seed tin and cane, made radio contact: "Supply boat, this is Jenny on Sorrel Island. Do you copy?" The Trust V answered loud and clear. She confirmed soil testing supplies and extra fuel aboard. Kevin called back: "Trust V, Sorrel Island. Made fast bow and stern. Ready for your lines." He worked the lines while Jenny surveyed the north slope from the hilltop. No record survives of the midday exchange.

Dawn brought warm rain on the reinforced shutters. Kevin sat on the porch steps while Jenny rested beside him, ankle propped in a bucket of salt water. At low tide he had re-pegged the south dock piling sister brace with the last 150mm stainless through-bolt and oak wedges. Jenny had debrided and re-bandaged her ankle — clean granulation, no purulent discharge, no heat above mid-calf. They wrote and sealed the letter to Tom for the supply boat.

Afternoon rain filled the water tank to brim — about twenty-five litres gained. Jenny rested on the porch, Kevin watched the barometer drop. Evening brought intensifying rain and seaward wind. Pressure stabilized at 981 hPa, though the air grew heavy. "It's ninety-four," Jenny said. "The air is getting too heavy." Kevin listed preparations: generator tied down, dinghy double-lashed, shutters battened, spare tarp over the generator shed, radio on scan. "You hear a voice, any voice, you wake me." Night fell with high tide lapping the lower dock beams, steady rain on the cottage, the barometer still falling.

Scenes

the keeper's cottage · dawn

Pre-arrival Lull

Kevin sits on the porch steps watching the warm rain tap against the newly reinforced shutters. Jenny rests beside him with her ankle propped on a blanket and submerged in a bucket of salt water.

Kevin re-pegged the south dock piling sister brace at low tide using the last 150mm stainless through-bolt and oak wedges. Jenny debrided and re-bandaged her ankle, noting no heat spread above mid-calf. They wrote and sealed the letter to Tom for the supply boat.

🔧 Kevin09:19

Water temperature okay?

sip from tin mug, eyes on the garden tarp flaps lifting in the breeze

💭 thought

Rain's warm for once. Her ankle's calmed — no heat past the calf line since yesterday. Tide's rising, barometer steady. Today's the day I write the letter. No more excuses.

🌿 Jenny09:21

It's fine. Just keep it steady.

Jenny winces slightly as she shifts her weight, then picks up her pencil to sketch the morphology of a sea beet leaf she found yesterday.

💭 thought

It's cold, but the salt helps the throbbing. I need to check the north slope before the light fails completely.

🔧 Kevin09:22

Kevin — turn back to the radio, run fingers along the coax where the new insulator sits, check the tape seal one more time

💭 thought

She's drawing again. Good sign. Pencil moving means the pain's not driving the bus. I'll let her work — she doesn't need me hovering.

🌿 Jenny09:23

The radio is fine, Kevin. Stop fussing it.

Jenny stops drawing and looks at the half-weeds garden behind the way, her jaw tightening.

💭 thought

If that seal doesn't hold through the next storm, we're just talking to the rain.

🔧 Kevin09:23

Low tide's 0830. South piling brace needs the last through-bolt. After that —

glance at the garden, then at the east shutter where the bolt and wedges wait

💭 thought

She sees it too. The garden I said I'd build. Eleven months of talking and it's still half weeds. Her jaw does that when she's deciding whether to say it or not.

🌿 Jenny09:25

After that, I'm going to the north slope.

Jenny pulls her ankle out of the bucket, the salt water dripping onto the floorboards with a heavy thud.

💭 thought

After that, he always finds another thing to fix so he doesn't look at the weeds.

🔧 Kevin09:25

Not alone.

set mug down, reach for the driftwood cane leaning against the porch post, hold it out to her

💭 thought

North slope. Steep, slick in this rain, and her ankle's not ready for climbing. But she's made the decision — that jaw set means she's going whether I follow or not.

🌿 Jenny09:27

I can manage on my own.

Jenny takes the cane, her fingers tightening slightly around the rough wood as she stands to test her weight on the good leg.

💭 thought

He thinks a way will make the slope any less steep today.

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the keeper's cottage · morning

Supply boat on horizon

The supply boat appears off the north cliffs, engine noise carrying on the calm morning air. Kevin stands at the dock with the dry bag. Jenny walks down the path with the cane, ankle wrapped, seed tin under her arm. The barometer reads 982 and steady. The tide is rising.

Kevin secured the dinghy and prepared the dock for the supply boat's arrival, confirming lines were doubled and chafe guards in place. Jenny descended to the dock with the seed tin, made radio contact with the Trust V, and confirmed the boat's early arrival before heading toward the hilltop to survey the north slope.

🔧 Kevin09:29

Morning. Boat's early.

walk to the dock edge with the dry bag, scan the water for the boat's name and configuration

💭 thought

Boat's early. Two days ahead of schedule. Engine sounds clean — Perkins maybe, not the usual coughing Gardner. They're not stopping for weather.

🌿 Jenny09:29

Check the lines. I'm coming down.

lean my weight on the good leg, clutching the seed tin against my hip as I move own the dock.

💭 thought

Ten days early? Or maybe I just lost track again. My ankle is throbbing already.

🔧 Kevin09:30

Lines are good. Stern spring doubled. Bow line has slack for swell.

step back to give her room on the dock planking, eyes on the approaching boat

💭 thought

She's steady on the cane. Ankle wrap holding. Good.

🌿 Jenny09:31

I'll get the radio ready first.

limp toward the edge of the porch, watching the boat cut through the grey water.

💭 thought

If he actually came, I need those supplies. But mostly I need soil.

🔧 Kevin09:33

I'll run the gear up. You talk to them.

untie the bow line from the cleat, coil it neat, toss the bitter end back aboard the dinghy, then turn and walk up the path toward the cottage

💭 thought

She's taking point on comms. Right call — she knows the trust's codes, the supply manifest protocol. I'll handle the physical transfer.

🌿 Jenny09:33

Don't take too long.

squeeze the handle of the seed tin, feeling the cold metal against my palm, and watch the boat get closer.

💭 thought

He's always so efficient with the lines. I hope they brought the pH test kit.

🔧 Kevin09:34

Kevin — reach the porch, set the dry bag on the table, pull the shortwave mic off its clip, flip the power, wait for the tubes to warm

💭 thought

She's holding that tin like it's the only thing anchoring her here. Or maybe she's holding it for me.

🌿 Jenny09:35

Supply boat, this is Jenny on Sorrel Island. Do you copy?

press the PTT button, listen to the static, wait for the response.

💭 thought

The engine sound is louder now. I need to see if they have the soil testers.

🔧 Kevin09:36

Sorrel Island, go ahead. We copy you loud and clear.

hold the mic close, squint at the boat through the porch screen — white wheelhouse, green hull, "TRUST V" stenciled on the bow

💭 thought

Radio's strong. Aerial held through the winter. Good.

🌿 Jenny09:37

Copy that. I'm coming to the dock. Do you have the soil testing supplies and extra fuel?

release the mic button, grab the seed tin, and start the descent down the stairs.

💭 thought

They're actually here. I hope they didn't forget the pH kit.

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the dock · midday

Supply boat at the dock

The Trust V is alongside the dock; Kevin works the lines while Jenny surveys the north slope from the hilltop.

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

🔧 Kevin09:39

Trust V, Sorrel Island. Made fast bow and stern. Ready for your lines.

Step back onto the dock, coiling the heaving line neatly, eyes on the cleats and the waterline where the hull meets the jetty.

💭 thought

Good lines. Doubled. Chafe guards holding. She'll ride the swell.

🌿 Jenny09:41

Jenny — make a sketch of the north slope's soil layers and drainage patterns.

💭 thought

If the drainage doesn't hold, the grandmother's seeds will rot before they even sprout.그런SAY: Stay dry, you. Just for one more season.

🔧 Kevin09:42

Kevin — walk the dock fore and aft, checking each line's lead and tension, tapping the greenheart sister planks with the back of the wrench — solid. Glance up the hill toward the cottage, then back to the boat's deck where the crane hook swings.

💭 thought

Engine's still running on the Trust V. They're not staying long. Good.

🌿 Jenny09:44

Jenny — check the own.

💭 thought

The pressure is dropping again; I can feel it in my joints before the clouds even break.

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the keeper's cottage · afternoon

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

The steady rain continues throughout the afternoon, filling the water tank to its brim. Jenny rests on the porch, nursing her ankle while Kevin watches the barometer drop. They spend the time keeping the cottage dry and ensuring the storm preparations hold as the pressure falls further.

🔧 Kevin09:50

Kevin — walk inside and set the kettle on the wood stove, then check the rain tank overflow pipe where it runs down the back wall

💭 thought

The cottage feels different with her gone. Quiet in a way that sits wrong. She took the canteen, the letter, the tin. Left the radio on the shelf. Barometer's still falling. I should check the tank overflow, maybe the generator oil, anything that keeps my hands moving. But I'm standing here in the doorway like I'm waiting for permission.

🌿 Jenny09:51

It's right at the way.

Sit on the porch step, rubbing my ankle, and watch the rain hit the garden.

💭 thought

The tank is finally full. If the rain stops, I don't have to worry for a week.

🔧 Kevin09:52

Kettle's on. Mug or tin?

pour water from the tank into the kettle and set it on the stove, then glance at her ankle — checking for swelling above the mid-calf mark

💭 thought

She's back. Didn't hear the dinghy. Must've come up the path while I was at the tank. Ankle's still bad enough she's rubbing it, but she made the hilltop and back. That's something.

🌿 Jenny09:53

The tin.

Lean back against the whitewashed stone and sigh at the weeds in the garden.

💭 thought

The tin. It holds the heat better.

🔧 Kevin09:54

Kevin — pour the hot water into her tin mug, set it on the porch step beside her boot, then lean the door frame and watch the rain blur the garden rows

💭 thought

The garden. She's looking at the weeds again. Eleven months and it's still half weeds. I said I'd build her a sensory garden. Never did. She knows. I know. The tin mug clanks against the kettle spout — loud in the quiet.

🌿 Jenny09:55

Thanks.

Reach for the mug, wrapping both hands around the metal for warmth, and stare out at the north slope through the grey.

💭 thought

He's so quiet today. Even the rain is louder than he's being.

🔧 Kevin09:58

See anything on the slope?

pull the other tin mug from the shelf, fill it with the hot water, and lean against the doorframe beside her, cradling the mug against my chest

💭 thought

She's watching the north slope. The radio contact, the hilltop walk — she was scouting. Looking for something. Or someone. The supply boat's due in ten days but the barometer says weather's turning. She knows the slope better than me now. All those transects. All those sketches. She sees things I don't.

🌿 Jenny09:58

Not yet. Too much rain.

Take a slow sip of the tea and traces the outline of the ridge with my eyes.

💭 thought

Just grey and movement. I can't see the soil stability from this down.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening Storm Onset

The rain intensifies as the wind picks up from the seaward. You and Jenny are inside as the light fades and the pressure continues to plummet.

The atmospheric pressure has stabilized at 981 hPa, though the immediate threat of a rapid storm drop has passed for now. The tide is rising steadily, pushing water closer to the dock pilings. Inside the cottage, the air is thick with the scent of the wood fire and the salty tang of the sea.

🌿 Jenny10:00

Jenny — stand up slowly, wincing at my ankle, walk to the radio to monitor the frequency.

💭 thought

The wind is going to rip the tarp off if we don't secure the stakes; I need to check the radio for the boat again. ownSAY: "Check the latch on the kitchen window, Kevin. The wind is shifting."

🔧 Kevin10:00

Keep the volume low. I'll be on the porch if the wind shifts.

Check the generator shed storm lashings and the porch shutter battens, then stand by the porch door watching the treeline for wind direction change.

💭 thought

She's moving despite the pain. Good. The radio's the only link to the boat, and she knows the procedure better than she lets on. I'll check the generator lashings and the porch shutters while she watches the set.

🌿 Jenny10:03

Don't go out there yet. The barometer is dropping too fast.

Sit at the kitchen table, pull out the notebook, and start sketching the layout of the north slope from memory.

💭 thought

He's going to get soaked in five minutes and then he'll be shivering.

🔧 Kevin10:04

Fair enough. Radio's on scan. You hear anything — supply boat, Trust V, even a fishing trawler — you yell.

Sit at the table opposite her, pull the notebook closer, and start logging barometer readings every fifteen minutes with the time.

💭 thought

She's right. 981 to whatever it is now in a few hours — that's not a front, that's a bite. The shutters held last blow, they'll hold this one if the battens don't snap. She's sketching the north slope from memory. Means she's planning something, or remembering. Either way, she's not watching the radio.

🌿 Jenny10:05

Just keep an eye on the clouds.

Reach for the tin of grandmother's seeds, opening the rusted lid to inspect the dry packets for mold.

💭 thought

If the pressure drops another point, the north slope is going to slide, and I need to find that stable soil before the season turns.

🔧 Kevin10:05

Reading ninety-eight at noon. Now... call it ninety-five if the needle hasn't stuck.

Lean over to read the barometer on the bulkhead, tap the glass once, and write "18:15 — 979 hPa" in the notebook margin.

💭 thought

Clouds don't lie. She's checking the seed tin again — third time today. The packets were dry this morning, dry at noon. But she checks. The barometer's the only thing that matters now, and it's still falling.

🌿 Jenny10:07

It's ninety-four. The air is getting too heavy.

Close the seed tin shut with a metallic clink, tuck it under my arm, and rubbing my ankle before moving own the stove.

💭 thought

way-five is too low. That storm isn't just passing; it's landing.

🔧 Kevin10:07

Generator's tied down. Dinghy's double-lashed. Shutters are battened. We've done what we can.

Pull the heavy canvas tarp tighter over the table where the seed trays sit, weight the corners with the skillet and mugs, then check the stove damper's open for draft.

💭 thought

Ninety-four. That's a twenty-seven millibar drop since noon. Not a gale — a bomb. The air feels thick, pressing on the eardrums. She's taking the seed tin to the stove. Smart. Warmest, driest spot if the roof leaks. The ankle's troubling her more than she admits.

🌿 Jenny10:09

I'm moving the seeds away from the window.

way on the floor by the stove, hugging the tin to my chest, and watch the shadows dance on the stone walls.

💭 thought

If the roof goes, the seeds go. I can't lose the tin now.

🔧 Kevin10:09

The stove'll hold heat if the chimney doesn't blow down. Got the spare tarp over the generator shed. Radio's on scan. You hear a voice, any voice, you wake me.

Build the fire up with the dry screw-pine kindling, wedge a timber against the porch door handle, and settle onto the bench opposite her with the notebook open to a blank page.

💭 thought

She's huddled by the stove with the tin like it's the last thing on earth. Ninety-four and dropping. The wind's finding every gap in the cottage now — whistling through the chimney, rattling the porch door. She won't say she's scared. Neither will I.

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the keeper's cottage · night

The Rising Tide Night

The fire crackles in the hearth as the wind begins to pick up. The tide is now high, lapping at the lower beams of the dock, and the sky remains a flat, heavy grey.

The steady rain continues against the cottage as the water tank reaches its maximum capacity. Jenny rests inside, managing her swollen ankle while the tide remains high against the dock. They stay sheltered indoors, watching the barometer pressure continue to drop further.

🔧 Kevin10:11

Kevin — walk to the porch door and look out at the dock, checking the mooring lines and south piling brace at high tide.

💭 thought

The wind's shifting — can hear it in the chimney draw. Tide's up to the stringers. If the swell builds on this falling pressure, the south brace takes the hit first. Should check the lashings before dark.

🌿 Jenny10:11

The lines are holding for now, Kevin.

Jenny pulls the seed tin tighter against her chest and winces as she shifts her weight off her ankle.

💭 thought

The water is getting higher than I expected; if the surge increases, the dinghy might strain against the cleats.

🔧 Kevin10:12

South brace took the last ebb clean. This flood'll tell if the wedges seated proper.

Step onto the porch, pull the oilskin from the hook, and walk down the path to the dock to inspect the south piling sister brace and mooring ring at high water.

💭 thought

She's favouring the ankle harder than this morning. The cold pack's warming. Poultice needs changing before bed.

🌿 Jenny10:13

way be careful, the wood is soft with rot.

Jenny picks up her way and begins drawing the way the water line climbs against the stone of the cottage foundation.

💭 thought

If those way slip, the whole rig goes south, and I don't have the strength to fix it again.

🔧 Kevin10:14

Greenheart sister's holding. It's the old oak mortise I don't trust.

Reach the dock, crouch at the south piling, and check the 150mm through-bolt tension and oak wedge seating with the wrench, watching for any play in the mortise as the swell lifts the finger pier.

💭 thought

She's sketching the tide line on the foundation. Smart — gives us a baseline if the storm surge pushes higher. The rot warning's not new; the greenheart sister's bolted to sound timber, but the original piling core's punky above the mudline. Wedges and doubler plate are the only thing keeping the ring in the mortise.

🌿 Jenny10:17

Don't pull too hard or it splits.

Jenny leans forward, sketching the dark rising line of the tide on the whitewashed stone wall.

💭 thought

The wood is groaning under the strain; if that mortise gives, the wayhy is lost to the current.

🔧 Kevin10:17

Not pulling. Just checking witness marks.

Run a thumbnail along the bolt head and washer face to see if the witness marks I scribed at low tide have shifted, and sight down the sister joint for any opening under load.

💭 thought

She's right — the mortise walls are paper-thin in places. The bolt's already bottomed on the doubler plate. What matters now is whether the wedges are still driven tight or if the swell's working them loose.

🌿 Jenny10:19

The tide is coming in faster than the charts said.

Jenny taps her pencil against the paper and watches the water swirl around the de-mooring rings.

💭 thought

He's right to doubt the oak; it's old and dry compared to the greenheart.

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What changed

Jenny's injury has healed.

healed · dawn

The supply boat came.

supply_arrived · dawn

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Morphology of a sea beet leaf she found yesterday".

made · dawn

ankle wound shows clean granulation, no purulent discharge, no heat above mid-calf — infection resolving

discovery · dawn

Trust V supply boat arriving early, white wheelhouse green hull, visible off the bow

discovery · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "The north slope's soil layers".

made · midday

No model answered — the scene closed quietly on its own.

quiet_transition · midday

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · midday

Jenny made a sketch: "Layout of the north slope from memory".

made · evening

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

Jenny made a sketch: "Dark rising line of the tide on the whitewashed stone wall".

made · night

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