The torrent has ended. We lost Crewman Willikers in the wash. He had tied himself to the helm, and tried to keep course. We lost the wheel too; but the carpenter had a spare; and was able to patch it up. On the other hand he's not so sure of the patch to the hull, and wants us to find port. The sails will need patching, but for the most part the ship is sound.
The navigator says we're more than 200 off course; but the damn man wont provide any units. Could be parsecs for all I know. or Milliliters. or Pascals. bastard.
where's the damn grog?
Day 7 has disappeared in a fog. Not sure if fog is real, or due to too much Grog.
Day 8 - the rain has penetrated through our skins and soaked every last crewmember. some have even taken additional time in the bilge to get away from the relentless downpour. the winds have slacked off, but without the stars to navigate by it is hopeless to maintain a heading.