Thanks, Kelli
Nearly 12 hours later, after slowly inching his way up a trailing line luckily caught, a soaked and bedraggled beatle wearily heaves himself over the railing and falls on the deck. A light rain revives him enough to get up and notice Banks has caught another trailing line and has gained purchase on the hull. Throwing a cargo net down the side for Banks to climb, he staggers back to the poker game.
Squeezing into the small cabin, beatle is apprised of the situation. ChiefScott has the boat doing what she’ll do on course for the SDMB raft. Signals have been exchanged and Ursa has command of the raft. Everybody went out on deck and waved as Capt. Ed and Bubba bobbed by. The consumate maritime knowledge of the SDMB crew is in gear. With a sigh of relief, the exhausted beatle falls forward on the table and grasps the bottle of Black Jack.
“Deal me in.”
“And somebody take a shot out for Banks when he makes it to the deck; he’s gonna need it!”
Oh WTF, sploosh!
Thanks El, but I don’t think the arm would be necessary. I need to lose a little weight anyway. I do appreciate it, though! 
“The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his ribcage.” --anonymous redhead
“I’d much rather eat Johnson, sir.”
Will work for sig line.