No, not the nail, but instead its hammer, and a mighty majestic hammer it is, too. The don was light of step and quick of leg when he set out into the cold and uncaring waters, waiting, watching, 'til he came across a sandbar. 'Twas not a big sandbar, but it was the one where he needed to be. I anchored my vessel and leaped overboard into the old, opinionated ocean. At that point it was only a short swim to the sandbar itself, and some scraping around in the sand with the bottom of my boot revealed a sprig of wood, a twig that had broken off of what was - likely - my goal, in the crash. Dulcinea's cara intensified in my mind's eye, and I could see her, but only her, and only her, and thank God, only her, until the moment moved on. It was my own mistake that I had left the shovel at home, and so I began to dig with my hands.
After what seemed like hours but was probably only half of one, I uncovered the handle of the hammer I had sought. Now, having a hammer and lugging around a lance, each separately, would do me no good; I jerked the weapon out of the sand it had buried itself in, and brought both it and myself back to the boat. Back on land, I brought the two remnants of my past to a junkyard vendor I knew; the man was said to take old junk and let it stew until it put itself back together in new ways. I didn't have the time it usually took him to do his business, so I demanded, rather daringly, that he bring the two together on the spot. It still took him about an hour, but I was rewarded with a dashing weapon worthy of a knight such as myself. Such as I am.
I remembered what I had lost, or at least part of it. I remembered carving strange symbols into the bark of trees and waiting, wanting something to happen. I remembered dragging my toes through the dirt, wanting to locate the answer I had been so desperately searching. I remembered sitting alone in a coffee shop and contemplating my next move, much as I do now. I remembered Rocinante, and I remembered our cardinal run-in; we were allies as soon as we met.
And then I remembered my duty, and I wait, now, as I most often do, until I am needed again, until I can remember what I have lost.