Day 93

Carburetor, Aerial, and the Supply Boat

Dawn rain drummed the tarp over the shed while Kevin hunched over the Yanmar, adjusting the carburetor, and Jenny sorted damp heirloom seeds onto paper towels. "The humidity is too high for the poppies. They'll rot before they even sprout," she said. "Poppies first. They're the finicky ones. Rest can wait," Kevin replied. "The seeds don't care about your schedule, Kevin. They care about the rot."

Morning drizzle left the dock slick. Kevin rebuilt the carburetor but mis-seated the new float needle, causing an internal leak. Jenny tried taping the radio aerial, but the crack in the housing had widened in the humidity. "Crack's through to the threads. Tape won't hold," Kevin said. "Spare porcelain insulator's in the crate by the stove — brought it last supply run. Swap the whole bracket insert."

At high tide they waited. Kevin filed the brass seat, counting strokes. "Three per side." Jenny warned, "Don't overfile it. If you take too much brass, we'll have to shim the whole thing."

Afternoon brought rising wind and a dropping barometer; no record was kept. Evening rain filled the water tank to 400 litres, overflowing down the barrel. They ate corned beef and onions. "Last tin but one. Unless the supply boat comes tomorrow," Kevin said. "The barometer is dropping. He probably won't make it in this weather." "He's missed worse. But aye — not tomorrow."

Night mist cleared as the supply boat appeared. Kevin inspected the bow line Jenny had rewound with new half-inch three-strand rope from the crate. "New stern line's on the cleat. Bow line's the old rope — might not hold if she surges." She repeated: "The bow line's fraying bad — I rewound it with the new rope from the crate."

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The Engine Test Prep

Kevin hunches over the Yanmar engine, adjusting the carburetor while the rain drums against the plastic tarp. Jenny sits on a crate nearby, sorting the damp heirloom seeds onto paper towels to check for mold.

The rain continues its steady, rhythmic drumming against the metal roof of the shed while the tide has receded to its lowest point, exposing the slick rocks and kelp-tangled pools of the cove. At the dock, the air is heavy with the scent of salt and damp earth.

🌿 Jenny01:55

The humidity is too high for the poppies. They'll rot before they even sprout.

Jenny spreads a handful of poppy seeds across the paper towel, inspecting each one for white fuzz.

💭 thought

If that engine doesn't catch tomorrow, we're stuck on this rock for another week. My stomach is growling again.

🔧 Kevin01:55

Poppies first. They're the finicky ones. Rest can wait.

adjust the carburetor idle screw a quarter turn, pull the starter cord to test the engine

💭 thought

She's right about the poppies. Humidity's been brutal on everything in the tin. Engine's turning over clean though — compression feels good on both cylinders. Just need the carb sorted and we'll know if she runs under load.

🌿 Jenny01:57

The seeds don't care about your schedule, Kevin. They care about the rot.

Jenny stands up and walks toward the cottage, checking the water tank level.

💭 thought

He's always so sure of the timing. The own says the storm is coming early.

🔧 Kevin01:57

Tank's topped off.

pull the starter cord again, listening to the engine catch and run rough for a few seconds before dying

💭 thought

She's not wrong. But the engine's the only way off this rock if things go sideways. Tank's full from the rain — that's one less thing.

🌿 Jenny02:01

It's the carburetor again. You're forcing it.

Jenny turns back to the shed and picks up the tin of seeds.

💭 thought

It's sputtering because the fuel is old or there's air in the line.

🔧 Kevin02:01

Float needle seats fine at load. Idle's the problem.

shut off the fuel valve, disconnect the carburetor bowl, and inspect the float needle seat with a flashlight

💭 thought

She's seen me fight this thing for weeks. Knows the sound of a flooded cylinder better than I'd like. Float needle's the problem — filed it clean but the seat's still not sealing right at idle.

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the dock · morning

Low tide and stubborn engines

Kevin and Jenny stand by the dinghy as the rain lulls to a drizzle, the tide beginning its slow crawl back toward the shore.

The morning rain has tapered into a persistent, heavy drizzle, leaving the dock planks slick with algae. Kevin attempts to rebuild the Yanmar carburetor, but his tired hands and the damp environment cause him to improperly seat the new float needle, resulting in an internal leak. Jenny tries to patch the radio aerial, but the crack in the housing has widened in the humidity, making the tape insufficient to provide a seal against the moisture.

🌿 Jenny02:03

The rain's easing up. Let me check the seacocks while the tide's low - can't afford to lose this dinghy now.

inspect dinghy seacocks and check dock planks for further deterioration

💭 thought

The tide's coming in and I need to finish the radio aerial repair before it gets worse. Those rotten dock planks won't hold forever.

🔧 Kevin02:03

Aft seacock's the one that weeps. Forward's solid. Watch the threads — bronze on bronze, they gall if you force them.

walk to the dinghy's transom, kneel on the damp planking, and crack open the Yanmar's carburetor drain screw to check for water in the bowl

💭 thought

She's moving on the seacocks before I can. Good. Means I can focus on the carburetion fault and the mast step. Tide's rising — we've got maybe two hours before the dock planks are submerged and slick.

🌿 Jenny02:05

I'll handle the forward seacock then. Don't want to force anything - bronze on bronze, you said.

check forward seacock threads and apply penetrating oil to prevent galling

💭 thought

Water in the carburetor bowl - that's why it won't start. But he's right about the seacock threads, I can see the galling marks already forming.

🔧 Kevin02:05

Good. Let it sit five minutes. Work the handle gentle — quarter turn each way. Don't break the stem.

catch the carb drain fuel in a small tin, eye the liquid for water separation, and set the tin aside to settle

💭 thought

She's learning the feel of it. Penetrating oil first, let it breathe — that's the habit that saves you. I'll drain the carb, see if water's the reason she won't hold idle. If the bowl's clean, it's the float needle seating or the pilot jet. Either way, the engine's coming out of the crate today.

🌿 Jenny02:07

Five minutes. I'll check the radio aerial again while we wait.

wait for the fuel to settle and inspect the radio aerial connection

💭 thought

It's clear enough, but that layer at the bottom looks wrong. I'm so hungry my hands are shaking just trying to hold the wrench.

🔧 Kevin02:07

Water in the bowl. Three mil at the bottom. Carb's coming off for a proper clean.

unbolt the carburetor from the Yanmar intake, disconnect the throttle linkage, and carry it to the dock planks to disassemble over a clean rag

💭 thought

She's checking the aerial. Won't find anything new — the insulator shattered, the coax shield's gone, and the tape held for three days before the wind peeled it. But she's moving, checking, doing. That's what matters. The fuel in the tin's showing a clear line: water at the bottom, maybe three millimetres. That's enough to kill the idle. Carb's coming off.

🌿 Jenny02:09

I'll get the radio aerial fixed first. I can't be unable to call when they come in.

disassemble the carburetor and clean the float bowl and jets

💭 thought

If the carb is fouled, the whole engine is a mess. I need to get this working before the boat arrives tomorrow or I'm stuck here.

🔧 Kevin02:09

I'm on the carb. You're on the aerial. Don't climb the mast in this drizzle — footing's slick. Fix it from the bracket if you can.

spray carb cleaner through the pilot jet, thread a single strand of copper wire through the orifice, blow it clear with lung pressure, and inspect the float needle seat under the magnifier

💭 thought

She said *she'll* get the aerial fixed, then described *me* cleaning the carb. She's tired too. Or her mind's ahead of her mouth. Either way — she's at the mast base, I'm at the carb. The pilot jet's the size of a pinhead. Brass, soft. Need the fine wire and patience. Water came from somewhere. Tank vent? Bad fuel from the crate? Doesn't matter. Clean it, seat the needle, test.

🌿 Jenny02:13

I'm checking the aerial connection. The crack in the housing is getting worse with the moisture.

inspect the radio aerial housing and check the wiring for fraying

💭 thought

The needle looks fine, but the float is heavy. My stomach is growling louder than the rain. I need to focus.

🔧 Kevin02:13

Crack's through to the threads. Tape won't hold. Spare porcelain insulator's in the crate by the stove — brought it last supply run. Swap the whole bracket insert.

reassemble the carburetor, bolt it to the Yanmar intake, reconnect the throttle linkage, and prime the fuel pump lever until resistance firms

💭 thought

Housing crack's been growing for weeks. Self-amalgamating tape bought time. Salt and vibration ate the rest. She's at the bracket — good, feet on the dock. The carb's clean, needle seats clean, float height set. Reassemble, bolt on, prime, fire. If she holds idle at a thousand RPM, the engine's done. Then the mast step, the sail, the sea trial.

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the dock · midday

Midday Stagnation

The tide has reached its peak, lapping high against the new dock pilings. Kevin and Jenny stand by the dinghy, the smell of salt and damp wood heavy in the air as they wait for the water to recede before they can move the boat.

Kevin attempts to file the brass seat of the Yanmar carburetor to remove the scoring from the previous day. Jenny watches closely, warning him not to overfile the metal, as losing much material would require a shim. The tide remains high, keeping the engine out of reach for the moment, forcing them to wait for the water to recede before the work can be completed and tested.

🌿 Jenny02:15

The tide is too high for the engine anyway. We'll have to wait until it draws out.

Jenny wipes a smudge of grease from the radio housing with her thumb and sighs, staring at the grey horizon.

💭 thought

If that barometer keeps falling, the boat isn't coming in even if it wanted, and I'm going to starve on seeds.

🔧 Kevin02:15

Aye. Slack's in forty minutes. Gives us time to sort the float needle proper this go.

sit on the dock planking and pull the carburetor bowl off the Yanmar, setting the tiny parts on a clean rag

💭 thought

She's right about the tide. The prop would cavitate in this chop even if the carburetor wasn't pissing fuel. My ribs ache from hauling the engine up the beach yesterday — stupid to do it alone. Should've waited for her.

🌿 Jenny02:17

way don't lose the screw in the grass, the wind is picking up.

pulls her notebook from her back pocket and starts a quick sketch of the tide-line near the jetty.

💭 thought

way's so focused on the metal, he doesn't see the clouds closing in.

🔧 Kevin02:18

Screw's magnetic. Bowl's alloy. Won't go far.

hold the float needle up to the dull light, turning it slow, checking the taper for the scoring I missed yesterday

💭 thought

She's watching the water, not the engine. Smart. The wind's shifted north-east — that'll push a swell into the passage before the tide turns. Need to check the reef markers before we commit.

🌿 Jenny02:19

way, the seat's still got that scoring from yesterday. File it again before you bend the needle.

closes the notebook and tucks it under her arm, walking toward the engine compartment.

💭 thought

The needle looks fine but I know the seat's worn from yesterday's leak. He's missing the scoring I couldn't see in the dark.

🔧 Kevin02:20

Right. Give us the file.

hold out my palm for the file, keeping the float needle pinched between thumb and forefinger of the other hand

💭 thought

She saw it. Of course she did. My eyes aren't what they were at twenty, and the light was shit yesterday. Should've used the loupe.

🌿 Jenny02:21

Here. But way, the needle's already bent a touch from yesterday's misalignment. We need to seat it right or it'll leak again.

hands him the file, fingers brushing his as I let go.

💭 thought

The pressure's dropping fast and I'm holding a file instead of checking the radio mast. If I don't fix that insulator soon, we're cut off completely.

🔧 Kevin02:22

Seats straight if the seat's true. File first.

draw the file across the brass seat in the carb body, light strokes, checking every few passes with the needle tip

💭 thought

Her hands are steady. Mine are shaking a little — cold, or the ribs, or something else. The needle's bent maybe half a degree. Enough to matter.

🌿 Jenny02:25

Don't overfile it. If you take too much brass, we'll have to shim the whole thing.

leans against the dinghy hull, watching the water lap over the rotten dock planks.

💭 thought

He's being too careful. The tide is turning and my stomach is growling louder than the waves.

🔧 Kevin02:25

Counting strokes. Three per side.

make three measured passes on each face of the seat, blow the dust clear, then test the needle tip against it

💭 thought

She's right. Again. Brass is soft — two strokes too many and the seat's ruined. The tide's still pushing hard against the pilings. White water over the reef. Not going anywhere today if the engine doesn't hold.

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the dock · afternoon

Waiting for the Slack

The wind is picking up, and the barometer continues to drop. The tide is slowly turning, but the margin for engine work is narrowing.

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

🌿 Jenny02:29

Jenny, we need to secure everything. The barometer's dropping, and if we don't get that engine mounted and the radio working, we're cut off.

Walk to the shed and grab the poppy seeds from the tin, then check the Yanmar engine housing bolts for the missing one I noticed yesterday.

💭 thought

The barometer's dropping faster than I calculated—maybe 975 already, and that southwest swell's building against the tide. If I wait much longer, that north channel's going to flip the dinghy. Kevin's hands are still raw from yesterday, and the carburetor's still leaking. But the radio's dead, and I can't afford to lose contact with the supply boat either.

🔧 Kevin02:31

I’ll get the bolt from the spares bin and mount the engine. You keep the seeds dry and check the aerial insulator—if it’s shattered, we’ll need to jury-rig something with the spare porcelain and tape.

Walk to the shed, open the spares bin, find the correct Yanmar housing bolt (M8x1.25, 35mm), return to the dock, and begin installing it on the engine housing where the bolt is missing.

💭 thought

The barometer’s falling fast—980 and dropping. If it hits 970 before slack tide, the north channel gets dicey. I need that Yanmar mounted and the radio fixed before we lose the window. Missing housing bolt could mean vibration cracks the crankcase. Poppy seeds are damp but viable—good to have them drying near the stove, but not priority now.

🌿 Jenny02:31

Don't force the bolt, Kevin. If it shears, we don't have another. I'll check the insulator, but if the housing is cracked, the porcelain might not hold the signal.

Take the poppy seeds from the tin and move them into a dry pocket, then go to the radio mast to inspect the crack in the housing.

💭 thought

He's finally moving, but his hands are shaking from cold. If he strips those threads, we're done. I need to get these seeds out of the tin before the damp finishes killing them off, but I can't plant them in this soil with a storm coming. My stomach is so empty it's starting to ache.

🔧 Kevin02:32

Tap set's on the dock. I'll chase the threads before I torque the bolt. You check the housing crack—if it's through the casting, we'll epoxy the insulator base and tape the coax joint.

Walk back to the dock, pick up the tap set from the planks, and begin chasing the M8x1.25 threads in the Yanmar housing where the bolt is missing.

💭 thought

She's right about the bolt—forcing it risks stripping the aluminum housing. Need to chase the threads first with the tap set I left on the dock planks. The insulator crack's been growing; self-amalgamating tape won't hold in this wind. If the housing's cracked, the spare porcelain won't seat right. Might need to epoxy the insulator base and hope it cures before the front hits.

🌿 Jenny02:33

Jenny — climb up to the radio mast and examine the crack in the housing near the porcelain insulator.

💭 thought

He's using the taps now. I can hear the metal-on-metal from here. If he isn't careful, the humidity will just seize the whole thing. I need to focus on the aerial, but the hunger is making my head light. 981 hPa and falling—the island is about to get angry with us. nothingSAY: If that crack is deep, the tape won't hold the wind. I'll have to use the epoxy.

🔧 Kevin02:34

(Nothing—focused on the threads, feeling the tap bite into aluminum, clearing the galling from the missing bolt hole.)

Continue chasing the M8x1.25 threads in the Yanmar housing with the tap, turning slow and steady, backing off every half-turn to clear chips.

💭 thought

Jenny's up the mast in rising wind. If the housing's cracked through, the insulator's useless—coax shield continuity's already failed. Might have to run a temporary longwire from the cottage roof instead. Engine first though. Threads need cleaning, bolt needs torque, then sea trial at slack. Barometer's still falling.

🌿 Jenny02:35

Take your time, Kevin. If you shear the bolt, we don't have another one.

Reach into my pocket and feel the damp tin of poppy seeds, gripping the weight of them.

💭 thought

If he strips those threads, the whole engine is dead weight. My stomach is cramping so hard I can't think straight, and that barometer is just clicking down like a countdown.

🔧 Kevin02:36

Tap's cutting clean. Bolt'll hold. You get down from there before the gusts take you.

Finish the last pass with the tap, blow aluminum chips from the hole with compressed breath, retrieve the M8x1.25 bolt from my pocket, thread it in by hand, then set the torque wrench to 35Nm and tighten.

💭 thought

She's nervous. The wind's steady rising now—gusts hitting the mast, the insulator housing groaning. She's got the seeds in her pocket like a talisman. I've chased threads on worse than this in a rolling engine room with a busted tap and no light. This'll hold. Tap's cutting clean now. One more pass, blow the chips, torque the bolt to 35Nm, then mount the engine.

🌿 Jenny02:39

I'm coming down.

Climb down from the radio mast and inspect the crack in the housing near the porcelain insulator.

💭 thought

The threads are clear. But the wind is still rising, and that radio is a joke. If I can't get a signal out tomorrow, we are blind and deaf. I'm so hungry I'm shaking.

🔧 Kevin02:39

What's the verdict on the housing?

Lift the Yanmar from the dock planking, carry it to the dinghy transom, align the engine mount bolts with the stainless backing plate and nyloc nuts, and begin threading them by hand.

💭 thought

Good. She's off the mast. The housing crack—she'll see it's hairline but through the casting at the insulator mount. Epoxy won't cure in this humidity, not before the front. But the spare porcelain's seated on the bracket with self-amalgamating tape already. If she checks the coax continuity at the base, we'll know if the shield's still open. Engine bolt's torqued. Now mount the Yanmar on the dinghy transom, connect fuel and throttle, test at the dock. Slack tide in two hours. That's the window.

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the keeper's cottage · evening

A Quiet Stretch

Back at the cottage.

The rain continues its steady, rhythmic drumming against the cottage roof, turning the island into a blur of grey and green. Inside, the air is warm with the scent of drying herbs and the lingering smell of salt from the limpets. The water tank has reached its 400-litre capacity, overflowing slightly down the side of the barrel outside.

🔧 Kevin02:42

Kevin — walk into the kitchen, pull out the cast iron skillet, set it on the wood stove to heat. Open a tin of corned beef.

💭 thought

The cottage feels smaller with the rain hammering the roof. Stove's putting out decent heat but the damp's in my bones. Radio's still dead on the shelf — insulator shattered, coax failed. Haven't called the supply boat. Haven't called Tom. Jenny's somewhere inside, quiet as ever. Need to eat. Need to decide if I'm sleeping or staring at the walls.

🌿 Jenny02:43

You're making the corned beef again? I'll get the onions.

Walk to the counter, pick up the knife, and begin slicing the dry onions I saved from the garden.

💭 thought

My stomach is growling so loud it's pathetic, and the smell of salt is making me dizzy.

🔧 Kevin02:44

Aye. Last tin but one. Unless the supply boat comes tomorrow.

Slice the corned beef into the hot skillet, let the fat render. Push the onions aside with the spatula, make room for the meat.

💭 thought

She remembers. The onions from the garden — she grew them, she saved them. I didn't think they'd keep this long.

🌿 Jenny02:47

The barometer is dropping. He probably won't make it in this weather.

way the sliced onions into the skillet with the beef, watching them sizzle and brown.

💭 thought

If that boat doesn't show, I'm going to be eating limpets and hope.

🔧 Kevin02:47

He's missed worse. But aye — not tomorrow.

Stir the beef and onions together, scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the skillet. Pull the tin of mackerel from the shelf, set it beside the stove as backup.

💭 thought

She's right. 980 and falling. The French trawler reported Force 7 in Biscay with this same pattern. He won't risk the passage. Means another ten days minimum on what we've got. Means the radio silence continues. Means I still haven't called Tom.

🌿 Jenny02:49

We'll need that mackerel if the weather holds up for another week.

Reach for the tin of seeds on the table, tracing my thumb over the cold metal before putting it back.

💭 thought

One tin left. The island is eating us alive one empty can at a time.

🔧 Kevin02:49

Weather holds, we eat limpets and sea beet. Mackerel's for when the engine runs.

Spoon the corned beef and onions onto two enamel plates. Set one on the table in front of her chair, take the other to the porch rail. Stand there eating, watching the rain blow sideways across the garden.

💭 thought

She's counting. She counts everything — tins, days, seeds, calories. I count engine hours and tide windows. Different arithmetic, same sum. The seed tin's dry now. That's the only thing that went right this week.

🌿 Jenny02:51

The poppies won't grow if the soil stays this drowned.

Take the plate and sit at the table, taking a large, hungry bite of the beef and onions.

💭 thought

He's so focused on the engine he can't see the weeds taking over the patch.

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the dock · night

The Supply Boat's Arrival

The rain has slowed to a heavy mist as the tide begins to turn. The silhouette of the supply boat appears on the horizon, cutting through the swell.

Kevin inspected the bow line and confirmed Jenny's repair with the new half-inch three-strand rope from the crate was sound and properly cleated. Jenny retrieved the rope from the crate and verified its condition, finding it dry and sound. The supply boat's approach was observed from the dock as the tide rose.

🔧 Kevin02:51

Boat's in. About time.

Walk up the dock toward the cottage, eyes on the boat's approach angle relative to the reef passage.

💭 thought

She's early. Or I lost a day. Barometer's still 981 — holding steady but that swell direction looks wrong for a clean approach.

🌿 Jenny02:55

Check the moorings. The current is stronger than the forecast predicted.

Wipe my hands on my apron and grab the notebook from the table.

💭 thought

way. I hope they brought the spark plug and more flour, or I'm losing my mind.

🔧 Kevin02:55

Aye. New stern line's on the cleat. Bow line's the old rope — might not hold if she surges.

Step onto the dock, test the rotten planks underfoot, then move to the bow cleat to check the old line's tension and chafe.

💭 thought

She's right — current's pushing hard against the wind. That's not in the forecast. Supply boat's fighting it.

🌿 Jenny02:57

The bow line's fraying bad — I rewound it with the new rope from the crate. The bow line's fraying bad — I rewound it with the new rope from the crate.

Retrieve the rope from the crate and check its condition. </think>THOUGHT: The bow line's fraying bad — I rewound it with the new rope from the crate. Retrieve the rope from the crate and check its condition.

💭 thought

Those planks are going to give way the moment he leans back. I should have replaced them months ago.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

A tangle of driftwood and flotsam has washed up on the beach.

driftwood · dawn

Yanmar engine install on dinghy: 80%.

project · dawn

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · dawn

Yanmar engine install on dinghy: 90%.

project · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

Jenny made a sketch: "The tide-line near the jetty".

made · midday

Kevin made a sketch: "File across the brass seat in the carb body, light strokes, checking every few p".

made · midday

Yanmar engine install on dinghy is finished.

project_done · midday

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

quiet_transition · afternoon

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · afternoon

×2

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

The rain tank gained about 25 litres.

weather · night

← Day 92 Day 94 →

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