There they were. Damp, cold, terrified. Surrounded by the fecum of inumerable beasts, waiting on the one who would return to deliver the message of hope, of land. Or at least a corpse. There was not even a bible to read. Perhaps there was a shovel, and that is our unspoken wish for them, but there is no mention of this in the retelling. Adrift on the briney void, many days and many nights before that first Araratian sunrise, whether in fact or fiction, the captain of the greatest boat to never sink wished for a bigger one. Perhaps even a smaller one, just for he and his human crew. One with better ventilation. He would simply have to wait and see how it all worked out.