He nods, feeling a little better when the prow is pointing in the right direction. He fumbles around until he finds his phone again and holds it in his grip instead of tucking it away into sopping wet pockets.

"Probly manage to get me one better," he says. "Got me the cheapest thing I could afford at the time that wasn't jes' a piece a' garbage." It had to be sturdy enough for ranch chores and whatever he required of it when he and Lennie were roughing it. That was about it.

"Might'a. I could'a probly held onto you. All that'd mean would be me gettin' yanked down into the water, too." He's a little less hard living lean than he was when he arrived. He's still not quite 140 pounds yet.