I don't know why Roy didn't throw me off the boat after what I did. I fully expected to be on my way back to California today. I've ruined the boat and everyone's plans and dreams. But Roy didn't even get angry. He keeps looking at the bright side and saying how lucky we are that no one was hurt, no one drowned, the boat didn't sink, and we're tied to a dock safe and almost sound.
We ate breakfast at Hardee's and then walked around looking for a boatyard. The one we found couldn't haul us until tomorrow, and then they wouldn't let us work on the boat ourselves, so that was out. They told us about another yard a few miles down the ICW, so we phoned and were told they could haul us right away and we could do our own work.
Butch is returning to California, so we saw him off and then took the boat to the yard and hauled out. Roy was too tired to check it out today. We slept most of the afternoon. Al, Lloyd, and I took all the canned goods out of the compartments under the floor of the main cabin, rinsed them in fresh water and removed the labels. The compartments are full of salt water. The spare starter, in a waterproof bag, got saturated with salt water, so Roy is trying to salvage it. The lazarette, fortunately, is dry.
I feel so awful. We should be sailing happily over the Atlantic on our way to Bermuda instead of sitting here in the middle of nowhere with the temperature in the 90's and 100's. Such a terrible waste of time and money and effort, all because of my incompetency.
(Note: this haul out is just two weeks, honest.)
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