Crowley gets to his feet, brushing himself off and trying very hard to look as though nothing happened.

"We're good. We're good. You're good?" he enquires of River, helping her up. "We're good."

The sail, thankfully, has stayed largely rolled. Crowley sighs with relief, and sets to helping Wellard straighten them out, muttering under his breath.

"'Hard-a-port'. I'll hard-a-port you..."