Wet, wet, wet. Nearly everything is soaked. Only the forecabin is partly dry, so we smoosh in there when we can grab a few hours to sleep.
Sophie’s leg still has pain darts shooting up and down it, but she can walk. She’s very jittery, but she’s trying hard to make it seem as if she has it all under control.
We’re all tired, tired, tired. “Poop-de-dooped! Huh, huh, huh,” Brian said a few minutes ago, with a little attempt at humor.
But we do have sails again and are up and running. Sophie and I double-reefed the mainsail, and got the fixed storm trysail on the mizzen. The Wanderer looks a bit odd, but we’re moving, and we’ve been working hard to make the boat livable again. The canvas dodger is back in place, the heater is repaired, and the wheel (bent from my head smashing into it) is fixed.
We might make it.