Isam writhed around on the deck, his bloody hand making a mess of the otherwise stark white fiberglass. He struggled to get to his feet and stop the boat, which was now heading for land and liable to beach itself if something wasn't done. When he finally got up, Isam stumbled his way over to the sail and lowered it, then staggered/crawled to the anchor and threw it overboard. He then flopped down on his back, his head swimming. A large, dark red bruise was already forming on the side of his head, along with a sizable knot. Isam internally cursed himself, this boat, and the strange, childish man all to hell. 

But what was done was done, and Isam needed bandages for his head. Being as dizzy and disoriented as he was, the ladder down into the cabin would prove impossible for him to climb. He looked over at this new passenger, who seemed rather harmless after disarming himself. 
"Do you see that hatch over there?" He asked, half slurred, "Go down it; it leads to the inside of the boat. Inside, there will be a cabinet to your left, and inside that, there is a large green box that says 'ocean safety first aid kit'. Can you bring that to me?" 

His head was still bleeding copiously, with little sign of slowing. Head wounds always bled a lot, Isam knew from experience, but this was abnormal. He suspected his sickness had something to do with it. Between a concussion and his mystery illness, Isam had dug himself a nice little grave. His new company didn't appear to be a threat, and he seemed willing to help. If he wanted to live, Isam had a feeling he would have to accept whatever help the strange man could give him. He let out a huff and laid his head back against the railing of the boat. He had been longing for company, well now he had it.