Once Alfred had gotten himself out of the way and started being helpful, getting the boat near enough to Pablo for him to climb aboard wasn't difficult at all. They had good seas for maneuvering, at the moment, and he had a skilled crew out today.

"Welcome aboard," he said with a grin, dropping into a seat next to Pablo and propping his legs up on a pile of rope so that his knees were close enough to lean his elbows on. Without bothering to ask if his friend was thirsty or hungry, Alfred grabbed a nearby pack and rifled around in it for provisions. He knew what it was like to be stranded as well as Pablo did, after all, and he could tell from just the sight of the little rock he'd found his friend on that if he'd had anything to eat or drink since leaving the Santa Antonina it must have been long gone by now.

"Water," he said, handing over a full leather water skin. "Bread. There'll be hot food once we're aboard the Voyager," he explained. He continued fishing in the bag for a minute, his fingers scraping the bottoms of the magically enlarged bag as his arm disappeared inside up to the shoulder. "Annnd — here it is. Cigarette," he announced, handing one over.