Instead, within a few minutes of shoving off, I was face down in the engine compartment, bailing the water that mysteriously was flooding the boat while pitching furiously in every direction in heavy seas and cold, overcast skies. Meanwhile, three humans out of four and one dog out of two were sea-sick. So no sooner did I have the engine bailed out (by pulling the intake out of the sink motor, and pumping it directly overboard via the galley faucet) than I was cleaning up dog vomit. (The dog helped by eating up as much as she could, first.)
So yeah, that was how it started. And while it certainly didn't get any worse than that, neither did it get much better. The skies only clearly briefly on Saturday evening; otherwise it was cold, overcast and sometimes rainy the entire time. The seas were rolling and restless with little respite.
The company was good, but everyone was somewhat cranky due to the conditions, and my attempt to rally spirits with muppet-based sea shanties met with limited success. Besides, I ran out of those pretty quickly. We had engine problems with the dinghy, the sink never made it back into proper function (my fault!) and the dogs were constrained to the ghetto of the tiny boat the entire weekend. Except when we could beg or borrow a dingy to get them ashore. No snorkelling. I even forgot to read the Declaration of Independence and toast confusion to King George, and unforgivable lapse on my part.