Day 968

Supply Boat and Rising Tide

Evening brought heavy swell; the supply boat transfer was impossible. Jenny processed the final vials as the pressure dropped. At night they met at the old shrine, wind shifting, ozone in the air. Jenny limped, clutching the sediment vials. "It's going to be a bad one," she said. Kevin replied, "Barometer agrees."

Dawn found Kevin and Jenny on the south dock as the supply boat appeared on the horizon. Jenny sat on a beam, adjusting her wrapped ankle, while Kevin checked the dinghy's mooring lines. He pried a rotted plank free with a crowbar, revealing rot in the seaward stringer extending forty centimeters past the chalk mark under high-tide load. Jenny identified the last stubborn fastener and confirmed the captain had acknowledged the pH vial request.

The boat rounded the headland under grey sky. Kevin stood by the Yanmar with the new impeller; Jenny braced against the piling, notebook ready. The captain called from the wheelhouse. Kevin offloaded crate two containing the pH vials Jenny needed for sediment testing. A coconut crab had raided the garden overnight, stealing metal hardware and shredding shade-cloth anchors.

At midday, Kevin installed the Yanmar impeller at the cottage but could not seat the housing — bolt holes misaligned. He filed a burr on the flange; the housing remained cocked. Jenny collected sediment samples at low tide and began pH testing with the new vials. The study progressed steadily through the afternoon.

By late afternoon the tide rose faster than predicted, lapping the lower dock shelves. Kevin sat on the porch step wiping grease from his fingernails, refusing to look at Jenny. She leaned against the railing, ankle swollen and throbbing, watching a pale jellyfish bloom drift into the bay. The barometer had fallen twenty millibars since noon.

Scenes

the dock · dawn

The High Tide Arrival

Kevin and Jenny stand on the south dock as the supply boat appears as a speck on the horizon. Jenny sits on a beam, adjusting her wrapped ankle while Kevin checks the tension on the dinghy's mooring lines.

Kevin pried the rotted dock plank free using the crowbar, revealing deeper rot in the stringer beneath. Jenny identified the last stubborn fastener and confirmed the supply boat's pH vial request was acknowledged by the captain.

🔧 Kevin05:31

Mooring's holding. Stern spring's doubled. You want the radio up the hill before they're alongside, or after we offload?

check the chafe guard on the dinghy bow line where it runs through the chock

💭 thought

She's pushing the ankle harder than she'll admit. The boat's still an hour out at least — tide's high but the swell's building. Need the dinghy secure before their crane swings anything heavy over these pilings.

🌿 Jenny05:32

After. I'm not hiking up that slope twice in one morning.

Tighten the gauze around the ankle and lean back against the piling.

💭 thought

He's always checking the lines. It's the only thing he knows how to control.

🔧 Kevin05:32

Fair. I'll have the impeller in the engine and the antibiotics stowed before they're past the headland. Radio can wait till the tide turns.

walk the dock planks to the landward end, testing each sister joint under boot

💭 thought

She'll do it anyway if the radio check matters. The slope's slick from yesterday's rain and her ankle's not weight-bearing the way she pretends. But she's right about the offload — crane's the priority.

🌿 Jenny05:34

Just make sure they don't forget the pH vials. I need those numbers clear.

pull the notebook from my pocket and start sketching the way the clouds are thickening over the ridge.

💭 thought

He thinks the engine will fix everything, but the salt is already winning the battle with the rust.

🔧 Kevin05:35

Vials are on the list. Captain read it back yesterday. I'll confirm when he's on the horn.

tap the dock plank nearest the seaward piling — sounds hollow, rot deeper than the chalk mark

💭 thought

She's logging the weather pattern like it's data, not a warning. Clouds stacking over the ridge mean the front's pushing faster than the barometer shows. The vials are on the manifest — captain confirmed it — but I'll double the order when they're alongside.

🌿 Jenny05:36

Don't put your full weight there. It's softer than it looks.

Look up from the sketchbook and squint at the plank Kevin just tapped.

💭 thought

That hollow sound. The rot is eating further than I mapped.

🔧 Kevin05:36

Noted. I'll sister it before they swing the pallets. Got greenheart cores staged.

step back to sound wood, pull the crowbar from the loop on my belt, start prying the compromised plank

💭 thought

She caught it. Good. The chalk mark's three planks back but the rot's crept — salt and time don't read chalk lines. The supply boat's crane will put three tonnes on this finger if we're not careful.

🌿 Jenny05:38

Slowly. Don't snap the grain.

Set the sketchbook aside on the beam and lean forward to watch the leverage point.

💭 thought

He's rushing. If he pries too hard without support, he'll split the stringer.

🔧 Kevin05:38

Mm.

work the crowbar slow, feeling for the nail pattern, letting the rusted fasteners give one at a time

💭 thought

She's right — greenheart's dense but brittle if you rush the grain. The old plank's held together by salt and stubbornness. Snap it and we lose the sister face on the stringer beneath.

🌿 Jenny05:40

There's one more on the left. Stuck deep.

Reach out and point to the exact spot where the plank is still dipping.

💭 thought

He's actually listening for once. The sound of those nails shearing is the only honest thing on this dock.

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the dock · morning

Supply boat arrival

The supply boat rounds the headland under grey sky, engine throttling back as it approaches the dock. Kevin stands by the Yanmar with the new impeller in hand. Jenny braces against the piling, notebook ready. The captain calls out from the wheelhouse, lines coiled for the mooring ring.

The supply boat arrived at high tide and Kevin offloaded crate two containing pH vials for Jenny, while a coconut crab raided the garden overnight. Kevin and Jenny coordinated the crate transfer despite Kevin's low roll, securing the vials Jenny needed for sediment testing.

🌿 Jenny05:41

He's here! Watch the swell, Captain!

Step forward to the dock edge and hold out the sediment vial for the captain to see.

💭 thought

Finally. I can feel the hunger in my joints. I need those pH strips and the antibiotics before the humidity ruins another batch of seedlings.

🔧 Kevin05:42

Captain. Kevin. Impeller's in hand. Generator fuel line's got a hairline split at the tank bracket — weeping diesel. Need marine-grade replacement if you've got it. Also the pH vials Jenny radioed about.

Step to the dock edge, hold up the replacement Yanmar impeller box so the captain can see it, then gesture toward the generator shed.

💭 thought

Supply boat's early. Good. Captain knows the approach. I've got the impeller ready and the generator fuel line's weeping — need to mention that before they leave. Jenny's got the vial visible. Smart.

🌿 Jenny05:42

The vials first, Kevin. Please.

Shift weight off the throbbing ankle and lean closer to the boat, eyes fixed on the captain's crates.

💭 thought

He's prioritizing the engine again. The engine is always the priority. I'm standing right here with a vial of sediment and a garden that's half-dead, and he's talking about a weeping bracket.

🔧 Kevin05:44

Captain — crate two, pH vials. Jenny needs them first.

Turn from the generator shed, walk two steps toward the wheelhouse, point at the second crate lashed to the rail.

💭 thought

Jenny's right. Science before engines. The captain's got the manifest visible. She's hurting bad on that ankle but won't say it. Captain's crate two has the vials — I saw the paint mark last trip.

🌿 Jenny05:44

I've got it.

Reach out toward the rail as the boat nudges the jetty, waiting for the captain to secure the line before grabbing the crate.

💭 thought

He's trying to be helpful, but he's doing it like he's managing a child. I don't need him to point; I can see the crate perfectly well.

🔧 Kevin05:46

I'll take the crate. You log the lot numbers.

Step onto the gunwale, reach for crate two, lift it clear to the dock planking.

💭 thought

Boat's alongside. Captain's throwing the bow line. Jenny's reaching but that ankle won't take a misstep. I'll take the crate off the rail — she logs the vial numbers.

🌿 Jenny05:46

Just put it down, Kevin.

Open the notebook to the pH log and wait for him to set the crate on the planks.

💭 thought

Lot numbers. He wants me to be the clerk. He's treating this like a warehouse inventory instead of a lifeline.

🔧 Kevin05:48

Crate down.

Lower crate two onto the dock planks, crouch, pry the lid clips with the crowbar tip, lift the lid.

💭 thought

Crate's heavy, salt-crusted. Set it gentle — glass vials inside. Jenny's pencil hovers over the log page. Captain's securing the stern line now.

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the keeper's cottage · midday

Midday work diverges

Kevin is at the cottage installing the Yanmar impeller; Jenny is at the tide pools running pH tests on sediment samples.

Kevin prepares the Yanmar engine for the new impeller but struggles to seat the housing properly due to a minor misalignment. Jenny uses the low tide to collect sediment samples and begins pH testing with the newly arrived vials.

🔧 Kevin05:50

Kevin — install the new Yanmar raw water impeller in the pump housing, then replace the generator fuel line with the marine-grade replacement from the supply boat

💭 thought

The fuel line's worse than I thought — air bubbles mean it's sucking air under load. Need to swap the whole run before the generator quits on us. Impeller first, then the line. Both from the supply boat. Both in hand.

🌿 Jenny05:52

Jenny — dip a pH strip into the sediment vial, hold it against the chart, and record the result in the soil pH log.

💭 thought

Just a few more samples. If the sediment here is consistent, I can stop guessing about the mineral runoff.

🔧 Kevin05:54

Kevin — start the generator and let it warm up, then apply load to verify the fuel line holds and the impeller pumps steady

💭 thought

Impeller seated clean. Housing bolts torqued. Fuel line swapped — new marine-grade run from tank to filter, no kinks, clamps snug. Bled the line at the filter housing, got solid fuel no bubbles. Generator should run clean now. Need to fire it up and verify under load.

🌿 Jenny05:56

Jenny — pack the remaining pH vials and the notebook into the daybag and slowly stand up, leaning heavily on the driftwood cane.

💭 thought

My ankle is screaming. I need to get back before the tide turns or I'll be trapped on the shelf.

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the keeper's cottage · afternoon

The Rising Tide

Kevin and Jenny meet at the cottage porch as the sun begins to dip. The sound of lapping water against the dock fills the air.

The tide is rising faster than the chart predicted, lapping the lower shelves of the dock. Kevin sits on the porch step, methodically wiping grease from under his fingernails with a rag, refusing to look at Jenny. Jenny leans against the railing, shifting her weight to ease the swollen, throbbing ankle, watching a pale jellyfish bloom drifting slowly into the bay.

🔧 Kevin05:58

Impeller's not seating. Housing's warped or the bolts are galled. Walking off it before I make it worse.

walk to the porch and lean against the doorframe, wiping hands on a rag

💭 thought

The impeller housing still won't seat true. Humidity's got the bolts binding. Need to walk away before I strip something.

🌿 Jenny05:58

Let me see it. You probably just have a burr on the flange.

Limp toward him and gesture toward the engine.

💭 thought

He's going to strip the threads if he keeps forcing it. He's too impatient with the metal.

🔧 Kevin06:01

Already filed the flange. See the burr?" (pointing at the engine) "Housing's cocked. Bolt holes don't line up anymore.

pull my hand back and turn toward the cottage window, watching the tide roll in against the dock pilings

💭 thought

She's offering help, but every time I let someone get too close to the Yanmar, something goes wrong. Tom's voice still echoes in my head when I think about accepting assistance.

🌿 Jenny06:01

If it's cocked, it's a shim issue, not a warp. Just let me look at the alignment.

Gently pull my hand away and lean against the porch railing, shifting my weight off the swollen ankle.

💭 thought

He's shutting down again. He'd rather walk away from a mechanical puzzle than admit he's guessing.

🔧 Kevin06:03

The bolt holes are misaligned. I can see it. Just need to get the impeller seated properly before the tide comes in.

step back from the engine and cross my arms, then look toward the garden where the half-weeded beds still wait

💭 thought

She's right about shims, but every time she touches my work, something breaks. The ankle's throbbing just from her proximity. Need to keep the engine compartment to myself.

🌿 Jenny06:03

The tide is already coming in, Kevin. It's not going to help the impeller seat any faster.

Look out toward the garden, then slowly turn my gaze back to him.

💭 thought

He's staring at the weeds because he can't fix the pump. He's projecting his frustration onto the garden again.

🔧 Kevin06:04

Then I'll wait for slack. Not forcing it.

sit on the porch step and pull the rag from my back pocket, wiping grease from under my fingernails, not looking at her

💭 thought

She's watching me. Not the engine. Me. The way she did when I came back from the water forty minutes later.

🌿 Jenny06:04

I still want to see the housing.

Keep my hand still and let him wipe the grease, though my voice stays flat.

💭 thought

He does this when he's feeling small. The quiet, domestic care to mask the failure.

🔧 Kevin06:06

You'll see it when it's seated.

stand up and walk to the garden gate, stopping to pull a weed from the edge of the path and let it fall

💭 thought

She won't stop. She never stops. The housing's fine. The bolts are fine. I'm the one who's cocked sideways.

🌿 Jenny06:06

That's not how this works. If you can't seat it, you don't hide it until it's fixed.

Watch him from the porch, gripping the railing tight.

💭 thought

Vagueness is a lie. If he's not showing me the alignment, he's hiding a mistake.

🔧 Kevin06:09

I'll get it seated. Just need the right angle.

walk back to the engine and kneel, running my fingers along the housing flange, not meeting her eyes as I work

💭 thought

Hide it? She doesn't understand. Some things aren't meant to be seen, not completely. The way she looks at that house when she thinks I'm not watching.

🌿 Jenny06:09

Use the feeler gauge. Stop guessing the angle and actually measure the gap.

Limp slowly down the porch steps toward him, leaning on the driftwood cane.

💭 thought

He's stubborn. If he forces that housing on at the wrong angle, he'll crack the casting or strip the bolts entirely.

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the old shrine · evening

Waiting for the Slack

The heat remains high as the tide continues to cover the lower shelves. The supply boat is still six days away.

Kevin attempts to meet the supply boat at high tide, but the heavy swell and salt spray make the transfer dangerous and impossible. Jenny spends the day focusing on the sediment study, successfully processing the new vials as the pressure drops.

🌿 Jenny06:10

It's too hot to even breathe.

Lean back against a weathered stone and close my eyes, shifting my weight off the swollen ankle.

💭 thought

This heat is suffocating. I can feel the salt crusting on my skin and the throb in my ankle is timing itself to my heartbeat.

🔧 Kevin06:10

Tide'll turn in an hour. Cooler after dark.

sit on a flat stone facing the cliffs, pull the rag from my back pocket and wipe sweat from my neck

💭 thought

She's right. Thirty-one degrees with this humidity and the wind doing nothing but pushing hot air around. The ankle's not improving either — heat makes swelling worse.

🌿 Jenny06:12

If it does. The air feels like wet wool.

Open one eye to look at the worn carvings on the stones, tracing a faded name with my gaze.

💭 thought

He's always talking about the turn, the change, the relief. As if the timing of the tide makes the heat any less oppressive.

🔧 Kevin06:12

Barometer's still falling. Front's coming.

lean back on my elbows, boots braced on the lower slope, eyes on the horizon where the sea meets sky

💭 thought

She's watching the names. The 'E' stone, the softwood carving I left. She sees more than she says.

🌿 Jenny06:14

Let it come. At least the rain will wash the salt off everything.

Shift my position slightly, wincing as the movement pulls at the gauze on my ankle.

💭 thought

He's watching the horizon while I'm watching the stones. He's always looking for the next thing to fix or fight, never just being where we are.

🔧 Kevin06:14

Need to change that dressing before night. Clean water, fresh gauze.

reach into my jacket pocket, pull out the small tin of metronidazole blister pack and hold it out toward her

💭 thought

The wince. She's hiding how bad it is. Salt in the wound, heat, no real rest. She won't ask for help.

🌿 Jenny06:16

Thanks.

Take the medication from his hand, my fingers brushing his briefly.

💭 thought

He's playing the caretaker again. It's easier for him to handle a blister pack than to actually look at me.

🔧 Kevin06:16

Two tablets. Wash them down.

unscrew the warm tin mug from my belt loop and hold it out, the last of the limpet broth sloshing inside

💭 thought

Her fingers are hot. Fever or just the day. The contact lingers a second longer than it needs to.

🌿 Jenny06:18

I'm not that far gone yet.

Take the mug and swallow the tablets, drinking the remaining broth in two long gulps.

💭 thought

Limpet broth. The taste of the tide and old grease. It's the only thing keeping me upright right now.

🔧 Kevin06:18

Didn't say you were.

take the mug, brush the rim with my thumb, clip it back to my belt

💭 thought

She drank it all. Didn't leave me a sip. The mug's warm from her hands when she hands it back.

🌿 Jenny06:20

Jenny — look away toward the cliffs, watching a seabird dive into the spray.

💭 thought

That thumb on the rim—a ghost of a gesture. He doesn't know how to be soft without a task to justify it.

🔧 Kevin06:20

Tern. Feeding young somewhere on the north cliffs.

stand, stretch my shoulders, glance at the sun sitting low on the western water

💭 thought

She's avoiding my eyes. The bird hits water — clean, sharp. Nothing like the rest of this.

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the old shrine · night

The Approaching Storm

Kevin and Jenny meet at the old shrine as the wind picks up, the smell of ozone filling the humid air.

The air at the shrine is thick with the 28°C heat of the dry season as the tide retreats rapidly, exposing the slick, dark rocks of the shoreline. Jenny limps with a heavy gait, her ankle swollen and throbbing, while she clutches the sediment vials to her chest as the wind begins to shift.

🌿 Jenny06:23

The wind is turning, Kevin. We need to get the samples inside the cottage now.

Shifts her weight off her left ankle and winces silently, clutching the bag of sediment vials to her chest.

💭 thought

The barometer is dropping too fast, and he's just standing there waiting for me to say something useless.

🔧 Kevin06:23

Samples first. Then the radio.

walk back toward the cottage with her, carrying nothing but keeping pace slow for the ankle

💭 thought

She's favouring the ankle again. The barometer's dropped twenty millibars since noon. We don't have long.

🌿 Jenny06:24

The radio can wait five minutes. These vials are the only thing that actually matters right now.

Limps beside him, keeping her grip tight on the vials and avoiding eye contact.

💭 thought

He's trying to be considerate, but the slow pace is almost worse; it just makes me focus on the throb.

🔧 Kevin06:24

Cottage it is.

match her pace up the ridge path, scanning the treeline for wind-shifted branches

💭 thought

She's right. The vials matter. The radio's just me.

🌿 Jenny06:26

It's going to be a bad one.

Tightens her hold on the vials and leans slightly into the wind, glancing toward the cliffs.

💭 thought

He's scanning for branches, but he's not scanning the horizon. The air is too heavy.

🔧 Kevin06:26

Barometer agrees. Twenty millibars since noon.

reach the cottage porch, hold the door for her, then move the seed trays from the table to clear space for the vials

💭 thought

She reads the sky better than the barometer. Northeast swell wrapping around the point, clouds stacking.

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What changed

3 intentions for today.

plan · dawn

×2

Jenny made a sketch: "Way the clouds are thickening over the ridge".

made · dawn

tide pool sediment study: 50%.

project · dawn

Found: rotted dock plank.

item · dawn

rot in seaward stringer extends 40cm past visible chalk mark under high tide load

discovery · dawn

A coconut crab has been at the garden overnight.

coconut_crab · morning

tide pool sediment study: 60%.

project · morning

Found: pH test vials.

item · morning

coconut crab steals metal hardware and shreds shade cloth anchors

discovery · morning

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · morning

A wooden crate from some lost container ship rolls in the surf.

lost_crate · midday

tide pool sediment study: 70%.

project · midday

Found: pH vials.

item · midday

Tide pool sediment shows consistent acidity in the northern shelf

discovery · midday

tide pool sediment study: 80%.

project · afternoon

tide pool sediment study: 90%.

project · evening

Kevin and Jenny ate.

meal · evening

tide pool sediment study is finished.

project_done · night

Found: sediment vials.

item · night

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