Day 926

Supply Boat Arrives Early, Ankle Worsens

The supply boat rounded the headland two days early at high tide. Kevin stood at the dock with the dinghy secured astern; Jenny leaned on her driftwood cane, face pale. "They're early. Help me with the dock line," she said. Kevin took the stern line. "Got it. You hold the bow spring, I'll take the stern." As the boat nudged the fenders, Jenny warned, "Watch the fender." Kevin replied, "Hold it. Don't snub it hard — let the fender breathe." She called, "Careful with the planks!" He said, "Planks are sound. Stay there." But she could not move. "Sit. I'll shift it," he told her.

Dawn found Kevin hunched over the Yanmar on the dinghy, scrubbing salt crust from the fuel injector pump threads. He installed the bronze adapter and new fuel line, then ran the engine at the dock — it started clean and held steady under load with no vibration. Jenny sat on a cedar plank, adjusting her wrapped ankle. She attempted to debride the wound but the infection had deepened; it bled heavily when probed and the poultice would not adhere, forcing her to re-bandage without cleaning it properly.

Midday brought heavy rain. Kevin replaced rotten dock planks with greenheart and a crowbar while Jenny retreated to the porch. "Watch the edge, Kevin. The rot is like glass today," she called. He muttered to the wood, "Hold together." She directed, "Mark the good wood clear now." He sistered the soft stringer. "One 150mm bolt left. Cutting new ones from stainless rod." She said, "Tide isn't waiting for the hardware." He threaded the bolts in.

Evening: Kevin returned as light faded. "Boat's early. Two days. You hear the engine?" Jenny said, "I heard it. I'm not moving." He examined her ankle. "It's throbbing, Kevin. The poultice is just mess." He ordered doxycycline and metronidazole together. Night fell hard. "Kevin, the barometer's falling fast. I need you to check the tank overflow — and I need saline for the ankle, clean gauze, and that scalpel." He checked: "Tank's clear. Overflow running." He retrieved the kit. She applied a fresh sea beet-mint-honey poultice and re-dressed with clean gauze and saline. The rain tank gained 50 litres. Fruit ripened in the woods — you could smell it before you saw it.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

Humidity and Salt Corrosion

Kevin hunches over the Yanmar engine on the dinghy, scrubbing salt crust from the fuel injector pump threads. Jenny sits on a cedar plank, adjusting her wrapped ankle while watching the heavy, grey air settle over the water.

Kevin installed the bronze adapter and new fuel line on the Yanmar, then ran the engine at the dock — it started clean and held steady under load with no vibration. Jenny attempted to debride her ankle but the infection had deepened; the wound bled heavily when she probed it and the poultice would not adhere, forcing her to re-bandage without cleaning it properly.

🌿 Jenny10:17

The tide is coming in early today.

sketch the morphology of the sea beet leaves in the margin of her notebook.

💭 thought

The humidity is going to rot these seeds before I ever get them into soil that actually works.

🔧 Kevin10:21

Tables said six-forty. Moon's pulling it early. Or the low out west.

wipe the injector pump threads clean with a rag and check the seating face for pitting

💭 thought

Barometer's been climbing since midnight. High pressure ridge holding — means calm seas for the trial but the supply boat'll fight a contrary current on the flood. Tide tables said 0640. It's barely 0530. Moon phase or the low out west pulling water early. Either way, the dinghy's floating sooner than planned.

🌿 Jenny10:21

Everything's shifting out here.

rub a thumb over the swollen skin of her ankle through the bandage.

💭 thought

He's always looking at the charts while I'm looking at the rot.

🔧 Kevin10:22

The ankle shifting? Or the island?

pick up the bronze adapter and thread it into the pump housing by hand, feeling for cross-threading

💭 thought

She's not talking about the tide. The ankle's been angry three days now — red line tracked past her knee yesterday before the antibiotics and poultice turned it. She won't say how much it hurts. Just watches me work and writes her notes. Stubborn as a seized bolt.

🌿 Jenny10:23

way, I think.

look at the tin of seeds in my lap, heavy and cold.

💭 thought

Both. The island is trying to swallow me inch by inch.

🔧 Kevin10:24

Tin's cold because the metal holds night. Seeds don't care.

torque the bronze adapter to spec with the 19mm wrench, then reach for the new fuel line

💭 thought

The tin marked E. Grandmother's seeds. She's been guarding it like a reactor core since the crate washed up. Won't let me open it, won't say what she thinks is inside. Just sets it on her lap when the radio crackles or the barometer drops. The weight of it — whatever's in there — sits heavier than the Yanmar's crankshaft.

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the dock · morning

supply boat arrival

The supply boat rounds the headland at high tide, engine thrumming low. Kevin stands at the dock with the dinghy secured astern, Jenny beside him leaning on the driftwood cane. The captain waves from the wheelhouse. Crates are visible on deck — one marked with a red stripe for the replacement impeller. The tide is high, the water slack, and the ramp will reach the dock planking.

The humidity is a heavy weight over the dock, and the flat sky is darkening with thick, wet clouds. The supply boat has arrived two days early, its unexpected arrival adding a layer of tension to the morning work. Jenny limps toward the jetty, her face pale as she winches her throbbing ankle where the sea beet poultice failed to hold.

🌿 Jenny10:25

They're early. Help me with the dock line.

Sets the notebook down, stands with a wince, and limps toward the jetty, clutching her swollen ankle.

💭 thought

Finally, the boat is actually here. I hope they brought the antibiotics and not just more sea salt.

🔧 Kevin10:26

Got it. You hold the bow spring, I'll take the stern.

walk to the seaward cleat, coil the stern line, and wait for the boat to nudge the fenders

💭 thought

Good tide for it. Slack water means no current fighting the lines. Jenny's ankle won't hold her weight on a heaving deck — I take the heavy end.

🌿 Jenny10:27

Watch the fender.

Reaches for the heavy bow spring, her fingers white as she shifts her weight off the throbbing infection in her ankle.

💭 thought

If that boat hits the dock too hard, the rotten planks will give just like I just fixed.

🔧 Kevin10:28

Hold it. Don't snub it hard — let the fender breathe.

step onto the gunwale as the boat kisses the fenders, catch the heaving line tossed from the wheelhouse, and lead the stern spring to the cleat with a round turn and two half hitches

💭 thought

She's favoring it hard. The swelling's past the gauze line. If she loses grip on a surge, she goes over.

🌿 Jenny10:29

It's pulling. Wait.

Grabs the bow spring, bracing her weight against the timber as the boat groans against the dock.

💭 thought

He's moving too fast. The ankle is going to tear open if it slips.

🔧 Kevin10:30

Slack the bow. I've got the midship.

grab the midship spring from the dinghy, jump the gap to the boat's amidships cleat, and lead it back to the north piling cleat with a round turn and two half hitches, pulling hard to arrest the surge

💭 thought

The bow's swinging in. She can't hold it on one leg. I need the midship spring on the north piling before the stern walks away.

🌿 Jenny10:31

Careful with the planks!

Lets the bow spring go, breathing through a sharp spike of pain as the ankle throbs under the weight of the shift.

💭 thought

The boat is too heavy. If the wood doesn't hold, I'm going.

🔧 Kevin10:32

Planks are sound. Stay there.

haul the aluminum ramp from the boat's stern, lay it flush across the dock planking, and wave the deckhand forward with the red-striped crate

💭 thought

She's white-lipped. The planks are greenheart now — they'll take it. She won't ask for help. I'll get the ramp down and the crate off before she tries to carry anything.

🌿 Jenny10:33

I'm... I can't move much just yet.

She leans heavily against the jetty, eyes tracking the crate as it slides across the ramp.

💭 thought

They actually came early. Please let it be the antibiotics.

🔧 Kevin10:34

Sit. I'll shift it.

shoulder the red-striped crate, carry it up the path to the cottage porch, and set it down dry under the eaves

💭 thought

She's stuck there. Ankle won't take a step. I'll hump the crate up to the cottage and come back for the rest — fuel, flour, mail, the impeller box.

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the dock · midday

The Supply Boat Unloads

The supply boat nudges the fenders, the wood creaking against the dock pilings as Kevin prepares to secure the lines while Jenny grips the bow spring.

The humidity hangs heavy over the dock as the flat sky darkens, promising rain. Kevin has finished checking the Yanmar's vibration while Jenny struggles to manage her throbbing ankle, the honey poultice failing to stop the weeping of the wound. The supply boat is only one day away, and pressure is mounting over the structural rot in the dock planks.

🌿 Jenny10:35

Watch the line, Kevin. The planks are slicker today.

way shifts weight to her good leg, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through her bandaged ankle.

💭 thought

He's early. If they didn't bring the doxycycline, I'm going to lose the leg.

🔧 Kevin10:36

Got it. Bow spring first, then stern. Watch your footing.

step to the seaward cleat, take the bow spring line from Jenny's hand, wrap it twice around the horn and snub it off with a quick hitch, then move to the stern cleat for the aft spring

💭 thought

Supply boat's early. Two days. Captain's face will tell me why. Secure the bow first — Jenny's ankle can't take a slip on these planks.

🌿 Jenny10:37

Jenny — lean heavily against a piling, clutching the wood to keep from swaying as she watches the crew start to lower the first crate.

💭 thought

He's too efficient. It makes me feel like a ghost standing here.

🔧 Kevin10:39

Go sit. I'll handle the offload.

hold the bow spring taut with one hand while reaching out to steady Jenny's elbow with the other, guiding her toward the landward end of the dock

💭 thought

She's listing bad. Can't have her on the dock working cargo. Get her back to the cottage, then deal with the boat.

🌿 Jenny10:39

I'm fine. Just watch the salt.

pulls away slightly from his touch, eyes fixed on the crate being lowered onto the deck.

💭 thought

I don't need to be carried. I need to see the manifest.

🔧 Kevin10:41

Not happening. You're back to the cottage now.

grip her elbow again, tighter this time, and start pulling her toward the cottage door while keeping the bow spring line under control

💭 thought

Salt's spreading across her bandage. She's trying to tough it out. I can't lose her to pride.

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the dock · afternoon

The Calm Before the Arrival

The tide continues to fall as the first heavy drops of rain hit the salt-worn wood. The supply boat is expected at high tide tomorrow.

Kevin began replacing the rotten dock planks using greenheart wood and a crowbar. Jenny retreated to the cottage porch to manage her worsening ankle infection while the clouds thickened overhead. The humidity remains heavy as the wet season presses the island.

🔧 Kevin10:42

Get off the dock. Sit on the porch. I'll finish the planks.

Grab the crowbar, saw, and greenheart planks from the staging area. Walk to the seaward end of the dock where the chalk marks are. Start prying the first rotten plank.

💭 thought

Need to get the rotten planks swapped before the boat ties up tomorrow. Two planks marked, tide's dropping — gives us maybe two hours of dry access to the stringers. Jenny shouldn't be on that ankle at all.

🌿 Jenny10:43

Watch the edge, Kevin. The rot is like glass today.

Limp back toward the cottage, leaning heavily on the way cane, and sit on the porch steps.

💭 thought

He's going to kill us if that wood gives too early in the swell.

🔧 Kevin10:44

(quiet, to the wood) Hold together.

Pry the first marked plank free. Set it aside. Probe the stringer with the screwdriver — feel for soft spots past the chalk line.

💭 thought

Good. She's off it. The rot goes deeper than the chalk line — sawdust tells me that. Need to sister the stringer while I'm in here anyway.

🌿 Jenny10:45

(call across) The tide's dropping fast - mark the good wood clear now.

Move to the cottage table and open the medical kit, pulling out the fresh gauze and antibiotic cream.

💭 thought

If that stringer rots through before tomorrow's lift, the whole finger goes.

🔧 Kevin10:46

Marking it.

Drive the nail puller into the stringer at the chalk line — solid. Move inboard six inches — solid. Mark the cut line with chalk. Start the bow saw on the first cut.

💭 thought

She's right. Tide's moving. Mark the sound wood now, cut clean, sister the stringer, bolt the new planks. Two hours max.

🌿 Jenny10:47

Don't force the pry, it's soft as a way.

Apply the antibiotic cream to the infection, wincing as the salt hits the raw skin.

💭 thought

He's working too fast for the humidity; the wood is going to splinter.

🔧 Kevin10:48

Stringer's gone soft past the second mark. Sistering it.

Saw through the plank at the second mark. Set the cut section aside. Lay the greenheart sister plate against the stringer, span the rot. Drill pilot holes for the 150mm through-bolts.

💭 thought

She's seeing it from the porch. The stringer's punky past the second mark. Have to sister deeper — greenheart plate, through-bolts. Rain's coming harder now.

🌿 Jenny10:49

Keep the bolts tight, the wood is barely holding the way.

Wrap the ankle in clean gauze, watching the pulse in the swollen skin.

💭 thought

If those bolts don't take the weight, the boat won't load.

🔧 Kevin10:50

One 150mm bolt left. Cutting new ones from stainless rod.

Clamp the greenheart sister plate tight. Drill clearance holes through stringer and plate. Walk to the workshop, grab the 10mm stainless rod and thread die set. Cut two 150mm lengths. Thread both ends. Walk back.

💭 thought

Last 150mm stainless through-bolt went in the forward piling sister. Used the one from the east shutter for the north piling. Only got the 10mm x 150mm staged at the east shutter — one bolt. Need two per plate. The 10mm steel bolts from the crate failed in soft timber. Might have to use the 10mm stainless rod from the workshop drawer, cut and thread new bolts. Rain's sheeting now.

🌿 Jenny10:51

way up, the tide isn't waiting for the hardware.

Sit on the porch steps, my ankle throbbing in time with the thickening clouds.

💭 thought

If the dock fails, the whole way goes down into the surf.

🔧 Kevin10:53

Bolts are threaded. Going in.

Slide the first 150mm stainless through-bolt through the sister plate and stringer. Add washers, nyloc nut. Torque to 35Nm with the 19mm socket. Do the same for the second bolt. Move to the next plank section.

💭 thought

Tide's turning. Bolt holes drilled, bolts threaded. Need to drive them home before the surf takes the dock. Rain's coming sideways now.

🌿 Jenny10:54

(loose with the VHF) Tomorrow's window, 0600 to 0800 high tide.

Tighten my grip on the cane against my shin, then slowly push myself toward the cottage door and sit on the porch floor with my leg elevated on a crate.

💭 thought

The water's rising faster than we're working, and I can't feel my toes.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

Evening assessment

Kevin returns from the dock as the light fades. The tide is beginning to turn, and the air is heavy with the coming rain.

Kevin arrives early with news that the supply boat is two days ahead of schedule. Jenny is immobile due to the pain in her ankle, so Kevin treats the wound while they discuss the boat's arrival.

🔧 Kevin10:54

Boat's early. Two days. You hear the engine?

Walk up from the dock to the cottage porch, wipe hands on trousers, push the door open.

💭 thought

Three planks down. The rot goes deeper than the chalk marks. Greenheart's holding but I'm burning daylight and the tide's coming in. Need to check Jenny's ankle before full dark.

🌿 Jenny10:55

I heard it. I'm not moving.

Wince as I shift my weight, clutching the swollen skin of my ankle.

💭 thought

Two days early? I don't have the supplies ready, and my leg is screaming.

🔧 Kevin10:57

Let me see.

Cross the kitchen doorway, sit on the floor beside her, pull her boot off carefully, inspect the red line extending past the knee, check for spreading warmth.

💭 thought

The poultice failed. She's in real trouble, but won't ask for help even now.

🌿 Jenny10:57

It's throbbing, Kevin. The poultice is just mess.

own through gritted teeth as he peels the fabric away, watching the angry, red skin.

💭 thought

It's worse than I thought; the sea beet didn't even touch this.

🔧 Kevin10:58

How long since the last dose?

Peel the gauze back slow, clean the wound edges with saline from the half-full bottle, reapply fresh sea beet-mint-honey poultice, wrap tight with clean gauze from the kit.

💭 thought

Red line's past the knee. That's blood poisoning territory. We're down to two doxycycline and four metronidazole from the buried cache. She needs the rest of the course and we don't have it. Supply boat's two days out — if it comes.

🌿 Jenny10:59

Morning. It didn't help a thing.

Bite my lip as the cold saline hits the raw skin, leaning back against the stone wall.

💭 thought

This morning. The salt water is Making me feel every pulse in the bone.

🔧 Kevin11:00

Take the next doxy now. Then the metronidazole. Both together.

Hand her the blister packs and the tin mug of lukewarm water from the table, prop her leg up on the rolled blanket, pull the wool blanket over her shoulders.

💭 thought

Morning dose means twelve hours on the doxycycline. Fever's climbing. She's tough but the infection's winning. Two days to the boat — if it shows. Need to get the rest of the antibiotics into her and keep the leg elevated. The dock can wait.

🌿 Jenny11:01

I know.

swallow the pills with a shaky hand, watching the rain lashes against the window.

💭 thought

If I can't get to the ridge, I'll never find the soil. The seeds will rot here.

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the keeper's cottage · night

Preparing for the Arrival

Kevin and Jenny sit inside the cottage as the rain turns to a down. The barometer continues to drop.

Kevin confirmed the water tank overflow is running clear, then retrieved the medical supplies Jenny requested. Jenny applied a fresh sea beet-mint-honey poultice to her infected ankle and re-dressed it with clean gauze and saline.

🌿 Jenny11:03

Kevin, the barometer's falling fast. I need you to check the tank overflow - and I need saline for the ankle, clean gauze, and that scalpel.

Apply fresh sea beet-mint-honey poultice to swollen ankle, then attempt to stand despite the throbbing pain.

💭 thought

The infection's edge is creeping again despite the poultice - I need to debride properly before it tracks up my calf. And that dropping barometer means I should check the rain tank overflow before the tide turns.

🔧 Kevin11:03

Tank first. Then I'll get the kit. You sit.

walk to the back wall and inspect the tank overflow channel

💭 thought

She's pushing again. Ankle's hot to the touch, infection tracking. She won't stay off it. Barometer dropping means we've got weather coming in hard — tank overflow first, then her supplies. The scalpel needs proper sterilizing this time, not just a wipe.

🌿 Jenny11:05

Just hurry. It's weeping through the gauze again.

Sit at the table and sketch the pattern of the rain on the windowpane, trying to focus on anything but the pain.

💭 thought

He thinks sitting will stop the pulse, but the heat is in the bone. If that tank overflows, I'll lose the whole supply for the month.

🔧 Kevin11:06

Tank's clear. Overflow running.

retrieve the medical kit, saline, clean gauze, and scalpel from the shelf and bring them to the table

💭 thought

Overflow channel's clear — oak shims and epoxy from last repair holding. Water's running clean. Good. Now the ankle. She's sketching to keep from screaming. I've seen that face.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Morphology of the sea beet leaves in the margin of her notebook".

made · dawn

Found: fuel line.

item · dawn

ankle infection has penetrated deeper than surface; wound bleeds freely when probed and poultice cannot adhere

discovery · dawn

The supply boat arrived two days ahead of the eight-day estimate.

discovery · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

The lower soil pocket on the north ridge has high moisture retention, requiring immediate drainage work.

discovery · midday

A tool has broken from wear.

tool_break · afternoon

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

Fruit is ripening in the woods — you can smell it before you see it.

fruit · evening

The supply boat is arriving in two days

discovery · evening

The rain tank gained about 50 litres.

weather · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

Jenny made a sketch: "Pattern of the rain on the windowpane, trying to focus on anything but the pain".

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.