Bart served dinner early in the afternoon, and everyone on board slept through the night. Even the watchman dozed off and on; it was so still he couldn't help it. The next morning, the carpenters were out early looking at the crack in their mizzen mast. They were discussing ways to repair it, and a small crowd gathered around them. Gendry offered, "I can forge an iron framework to go up higher than the crack goes. It will be in two pieces for the front and back of the mast with holes equally spaced up both sides. We can drive heated spikes through from one hole on one side through the hole on the other side. Then we can hammer the back side down tight enough to compress the crack back in place. Then we can strap it with rope or metal." Trevor said, "I like that idea, and it should be solid enough to hold unless we get another storm. We are also going to send a diver down with another sheet of metal and pitch to nail to the outside of the hull where our little leak is. We should be fairly sound to sail then."
Captain Portsmith nodded his head in agreement, saying, "Let's get it done before a wind picks up, lads. Sail crews, let's get these riggings repaired and straightened out." The crews went to work, and the carpenters began checking the fallen spars and yardarms. A couple could be replaced with spares, but one had to be turned all over again. The tip of the fore mast was broken off by lightning, but it wouldn't affect sailing any, so they sent a lad to shimmy up there with a small bag of pitch to coat the top. Besides a bit of mopping on the first lower deck and clearing the bilge of what little water had gotten in, they could be shipshape by day's end.
Arya and the ladies mopped a little water in the cabins and hallway and hung a few rugs out to dry. They had survived none the worse for wear. Everyone was in good spirits, for they had come through a terrible storm fairly well. Even Arya had a newfound respect for the Sovereign and its bones and crew.
Bart and his helper butchered the dead cow before it could go bad and served a scrumptious hot lunch on deck—steak sandwiches on bread with a sauce they had made. There was a lot of hard work, but the atmosphere was jovial. By afternoon, Gendry had made his cage frames to specs, and the carpenters helped him hold them in place while he began scribing each hole on both sides of each frame. He then took one of the steel rods he had forged with a large head on it, strong enough to hold the stress of the mast flexing, and hammered in the flat part of the head across each circle. This was to prevent the bolt from further splitting the mast's wood as the bolt was punched through it. Carpenters used the same trick with nails on the ends of boards they didn't want to split. The bolts were then heated again in the forge and carried up to be driven through. The carpenters then placed a hammer against the head side of the bolt and used a cup-shaped piece of double-forged, hardened steel to drive it with a hammer on the back side of the bolt. When driven really tightly, the bolts had heads at both ends. Wide metal straps were used to clamp the mast and frame where the bolts weren't. It looked solid, but they wouldn't know till wind and sails tested it. Funny thing was, there hadn't been a puff of wind all day....