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Those of us who are left spend the day sitting or lying around either on deck or in the ’tween deck, waiting.

We cannot get the houses built fast enough, and we are crammed together almost the way we were on the ’tween deck of the Susan Constant.

Then they are ushered below to the ’tween deck for the long journey home.

The ’tween deck reminds me of the root cellar at the orphanage, with its close walls and ceiling.

We have had nothing but storms and winds blowing the wrong direction for weeks now, and so we sit anchored in the cold, close enough to see England’s shores but still trapped down in this hole of a ’tween deck with the stench of urine and vomit and chicken dung.