13 September 1891 — At Sea
They'd set sail on September 1st, after assuring Herbert Fudge that they'd be back in time for the end of the season in a few weeks. Zelda wouldn't have wanted to take so much time away from her job, anyway, and it didn't take so long to sail along the coast of Europe and back up. Alfred had been a little nervous about coming around the coast of France and towards Portugal, because of what had happened to the Voyager the last time, but ultimately they weren't going into any waters that might have been dangerous. The little sailboat clung to the shoreline as they traveled, always keeping it within sight. By now they had turned around and were headed north again, with their little vessel laden down with various souvenirs from places they'd stopped.
The sun was starting to set, though they still had plenty of good daylight left. Even so, Alfred was feeling fatigued. He'd woken up in the middle of the night yesterday to move their anchor after the waves had picked up in the spot that they'd chosen, and now he was feeling the lack of sleep. He moved to where Zelda was at the back of the boat — she had been steering for the last twenty minutes — and rubbed his hand lightly over her knee.
"I think I need a nap," he announced, punctuating this statement with a yawn. "Can you handle her by yourself, or should we anchor?"
The sun was starting to set, though they still had plenty of good daylight left. Even so, Alfred was feeling fatigued. He'd woken up in the middle of the night yesterday to move their anchor after the waves had picked up in the spot that they'd chosen, and now he was feeling the lack of sleep. He moved to where Zelda was at the back of the boat — she had been steering for the last twenty minutes — and rubbed his hand lightly over her knee.
"I think I need a nap," he announced, punctuating this statement with a yawn. "Can you handle her by yourself, or should we anchor?"
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER