South of San Diego, the sea got bigger.
No longer crushing down on small choppy water, the San Domino was now fighting to climb over each successive wave.
The sky was a bleak, with the overbearing clarity only seen after a winter storm, when Eric climbed triumphantly out of the engine room and onto the aft deck.
“I got it!” he exclaimed, as he collapsed into one of the heavy wooden chairs.
“Outstanding, I never doubted you for a moment,” replied Mr. Ajo, confidently.
“It’s not a perfect fix, but hopefully the fuel pumps won't loose suction again,” said Eric.