Greenland To East Falkland: the diary of a young seaman.

When this story began, I was a young man, unaware of the danger of the sea. I left my family with a small fortune, and I went to find a long voyage to test my limits. There was one in particular that caught my interest. It included a large ship with strong masts and roomy cabins. Her name was Victory, and she was destined to travel from Cape Farewell, Greenland to East Falkland at a clip of five miles-per-hour.

May 15th

We just set out today. I am in charge of steering the ship, a rare task granted to a young seaman, and was promptly lectured by James Nots Notson, Victory’s captain, after I left the wheel unattended to pour myself a mug of water. I later was informed that beverage was only served at mealtimes, and suffered two whip lashings for my ignorance.

May 17th

We are now passing Newfoundland at four miles-per-hour. I have not had time to get to know the rest of the crew, to my great disappointment.

May 21st

We are heading straight into the Atlantic Ocean. Earlier this morning, when I was standing on the deck, steering our ship, the captain stood beside me and told me that there was a sandbar ahead. I promptly scanned the horizon and, seeing a small opening in the sandbar, pointed it out to him, suggesting that we attempt to find our way through it. He exclaimed, with exasperation in his voice, “We cannot sail through there. It is too shallow.” In response, I shared with him an idea that I had, “What if we lower down a smaller boat and sail through on that?” He liked this idea and granted me use of the Spring and three of his crew members, John, Richard, and Peter.

May 25th

We set out with plenty of food, water, guns, and powder, in the Spring today. Our captain had attached another boat to ours and filled it with bread, flour, and supplies so that when we arrive in East Falkland, we can deliver the goods to those who have purchased them for trade. We easily sailed through the sandbar and past a small island called Pico.

May 26th

This is our second day in the Spring. I have decided to take charge of things, and my small crew doesn’t seem to mind. Although I do not know how to work the masts, Peter and John know how to do it. Richard steers our tiny vessel, while I map our journey. Richard has been furious with the amount of rations I allotted for each day. At breakfast, he stole Peter’s loaves of bread, which instantly caused a wre stling match. John quickly grabbed Peter’s shoulder, trying to pull him off, but it was no use. The two men fought for upwards of ten minutes. Because of their insolent behavior, we were driven off course to the east, near the MaDeirol Islands. When the fight stopped, Richard sported a bloody lip and Peter a black eye. John had been elbowed in the stomach. I scolded all but John for their unacceptable behavior.

The sun was quickly setting, so I anchored us and attempted to sleep.

May 27th

A surprise met us this morning. The rope holding the anchor had been severed and our supply boat had been sunk. I suspected mutiny, so I whipped every man and gave them only one piece of bread. Richard threw his piece overboard - the idiot - and then promptly pleaded for another. When I answered his pleas with a firm “No”, he raised his fist as if to strike me, but then stopped and returned to his position at the wheel. We are making very poor progress at only one mile-per-hour. We are passing the Canary Islands and Peter and John have both eyed me with rage in their eyes. At dinner, I left my plate to fetch a cup of water, and when I returned, I found all three men asleep and my plate empty.

May 28th

We are moving at a clip of two miles-per-hour. Richard has thrown all his rations overboard and is forgetting his duty of steering the Spring, which is driving us southward. Peter and John are trying to catch fish, but are failing tremendously. As we devoured our lunch of bread, I noticed how all three men were getting grievously thin, which caused me to double their rations. I also added a block of meat. Hopefully we will now see a change in stature and attitude among the men. Richard has now stopped throwing his food overboard. We are making some headway.

May 29th

We are passing between Mauritania and Cape Verde at three miles-per-hour. When I opened the food chest I found nothing but crumbs this morning. I felt pure rage flow through my body. I stormed into the men’s cabins, searching their possessions for a sign of food. I found a loaf of bread under Peter’s blanket. I confronted him angrily with the problem and he neither confirmed nor denied my accusations. I tied him to the mast, telling the rest of the crew that every time they walked past him they must whip him twice.

Later that night, I untied Peter and had him sleep on the deck.

May 30th

For breakfast, everyone tried to catch birds. Richard caught four, Peter two, and John one. They feasted on the poultry and only saved one bird for lunch. We are now passing Senegal at three miles-per-hour. I decided that if we couldn’t get any more birds, we were going to stop at an island to hunt. We haven’t stepped on land since we had begun. For lunch we devoured the last bird. Richard is starting to complain quite frequently, while Peter and John constantly ignore their duties. We were swept westward near the Equator with nothing to eat. I was once again filled with rage when I remembered Peter had devoured our food and whipped him twice more. Peter had anger in his eyes and his patience was wearing thin. I knew mutiny was close, so I kept a small rifle with me at all times.

May 31st

We caged two birds for breakfast. Today we are passing Brazil at a remarkable seven miles-per-hour. Richard has become ill and is lying on the deck of the boat. We have sailed into a raging storm. Peter, John, and I are working hard. The Spring is flooding. I have helped to bail the water out of the ship. It has been storming for hours. The storm has driven us far from Brazil and into Africa. We can see the beach. Peter and John are cold and exhausted. Richard’s condition has not improved. For lunch we caught two fish. Richard cannot keep his food down. I decided to send the healthy men to shore to gather some food. At dinner they came back with one fish and bulging pockets. I asked them what they were carrying in their pockets and they told me that it was only rocks. Likely story. I checked their pockets as they slept and found oyster and crab shells.

June 1st

I decided to whip John and Peter four times each for their dishonesty regarding the shells I found in their pockets last night. I also decided that I would go searching for food at breakfast. When I went to shore I quickly stopped as smoke caught my eye. I traveled until I reached a forest. I took out my pistol, ready to fire, and hid behind a tree. A terrible sight met my eyes as I looked around. A dead man was lying on the ground surrounded by cannibals who tore at his flesh.

Their leader, a plump, horrifying man, climbed to a rock and exclaimed as he pounded his chest, “Cop dew mu e”. The rest of the cannibals jumped up, grabbed their primitive weapons, and ran straight at me. I quickly withdrew myself from behind the rock and closed my eyes, waiting for some sudden blow that would knock me dead….but it never came. I opened my eyes to see the monstrous men running to the shore. They hadn’t seen me.

I suddenly remembered my three men, whom I had left unsuspecting in the Spring, and scampered out of the forest. When I reached the shore, I saw John and Peter on the shore with their guns raised, firing like mad men. Richard was lying on the shore too with an arrow straight through his shoulder. I will never understand why they didn’t leave him in the ship. The cannibals that hadn’t been struck by one of the men’s lucky shots, retreated towards me. I raised my rifle and fired three times, killing two cannibals. I quickly ran into the woods, the blood-thirsty monsters at my heels. I took my gun over my shoulder at random and wound my way through the trees.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed through the air, barely missing my head. I dove under a log. From my limited view underneath the rotten piece of wood, I saw a pair of feet, then two pairs, then three, then what seemed like a whole army. Terrified, I held my breath. After a few minutes, the feet retreated. I waited to come out until I could no longer hear the crunching of leaves around me. When all was silent, I crawled out from underneath the log and sprinted towards the shore, where I found cannibal bodies everywhere and saw Peter and John were rowing out to sea. I shouted for them to turn around, but they ignored my pleas and were soon out of sight. I was furious. Nothing in the world had ever filled me with as much despair as this. My own co-workers had abandoned me on an island infested with cannibals.

It was near dinnertime when I lost my voice from screaming for the men. As I turned around to face the island I had been left on, I tripped over something. I looked down to find Richard, still impaled by the arrow, covered in blood. He had passed away from blood loss. Oh, if only I hadn’t been so self-obsessed. Then maybe I could have reached him in time! I was so furious at Peter and John that I fired my gun into the distance towards the ocean. Hopefully the bullet would reach its target: one of the mutinous men. I returned to Richard’s body and decided to bury him. The pain in my soul at this moment will forever marr my days as a seaman.

In the morning, I decided to look around for some houses or towns. If I couldn’t find anything, I would travel down Africa to South Africa to try and acquire a boat that would take me to Brazil. I had forgotten how incredibly tired I had become after the happenings of the past day and I suddenly collapsed in exhaustion. Later that day, around three o’clock, I was awakened by a boy in a white shirt. He was about ten years old and sported a pair of tattered brown pants. “Sir,” he said, “My name is Andrew Not Notson. I found you sleepi--” “Wait” I interrupted him. “Your father….is-is he James Notson?” “Yes, sir” replied the boy. “I’d be glad to show you where he is.” “Lead the way” I said with joy as Andrew helped me up. He led me around a sharp corner of the small island where we found the Victory, beaming in all its glory.

Andrew led me onto the ship. People stared as the boy led me to the captain. After I explained all that had happened -Richard being dead, Peter and John having abandoned me, and my own adventures with the cannibals- the captain was quite forgiving. He exclaimed that they had been able to cross the sandbar with very little difficulty and had been looking for me and my crew for quite awhile. After he asked me if I wanted to continue my journey as a seaman (I declined), he told me he would postpone all journeys so that he could personally drop me off at Cape Farewell in Greenland.

I wrote the news to my family, telling them to be at Cape Farewell on June 11th to meet me there.

June 3rd

I ate breakfast with great joy. We left Gabon at four miles-per-hour, passing Ghana. I was placed in my original post: steering the ship, but I had forgotten so much that I was demoted to janitor. I swabbed the deck all day, and when night came I was so tired that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the hammock.

June 4th

I heard violent shouts on deck this morning and when I went to check it out, I was startled to find a giant shark with a hook down its throat, which caused it to wiggle and flop in its upside down position. The entire crew was around the shark. The captain moved around the shark, showing no sign of fear, and took a blade from one of the crew members. He lunged, and in one quick move had sliced the shark in the back, causing it to writhe in pain and loose itself from the ropes that held it. It flopped onto the deck and bowled over the captain. The captain and the shark wiggled across the deck fighting for several minutes. The fighting stopped suddenly as the shark rolled off the captain, dead. My glorious captain emerged victorious, and my loyalty to him increased enormously today.

June 5th

We are passing Guinea at a quick five miles-per-hour. I woke up this morning in high spirits, but terrible news hit me after breakfast. A pirate ship had chased us off course overnight. He eventually gave up, but that left us facing the opposite direction of where we needed to go. Because of this, I might not make it home by the 11th. To cheer me up, the captain said that my old coworker, John, had been found dead in a boat. Doctors said that there was a bullet lodged in him. I went to bed somewhat cheerful after this news.

June 6th

We are passing the Virgin Islands today. I awoke in a storm and ate breakfast indoors, hurling it all over the table within seconds of swallowing. Nick, one of the crew, said that I looked terribly sick today. After the storm, I fished over the side of the boat, determined not to catch a shark. I caught two fish instead, a lovely compromise. My crewmates, Nick and Mark each caught three fish. We talked about the cloudy skies and rough winds, and figured that meant a storm was brewing.

June 7th

We are passing Bermuda at a remarkable eight miles-per-hour. Winds are about 50 miles-per-hour and the captain said that a hurricane is passing us. We folded the sails, Mark fell overboard this morning and disappeared in the murky water. We held a funeral for him. Curse the sea for stealing one of our dear brothers.

June 8th

We are passing the Cape Islands in Canada. We can see the sandbar ahead. Excitement flooded my body. I cannot wait to see my family again. The wind has died down and the hurricane is behind us. The men are telling me that we are nearing a Kraken, which I have never encountered before. Most of the crew are seriously ill, including the captain. Alex, another member of the crew, is filling in for him. Night came, but Alex kept us wide awake, keeping watch for “Hero”, the Kraken.

June 9th

I was shaken awake by Nick who told me that Hero had been sighted heading directly towards us. I jumped out of bed, fear coursing through my veins. I hurried to the deck to see a giant sea monster right beside the boat. It’s eyes were as big as the moon and its tentacles were wrapped around the ship, squeezing it tighter and tighter. Alex passed a sword to me as I waited until the monster had its eyes open. When it opened its dark eyes, I stabbed as hard as I could right into them. The Kraken let out a blood-curdling screech and before I knew it, I was hanging upside down, dangling from a rough pink tentacle. “It’s all over” I thought, but then Alex stabbed the Kraken in its other eye. It shrieked and threw me. I landed on the deck on my feet, but with a crack, my right foot gave way and I fell to the ground unable to rise. Suddenly, something hit my head and my surroundings went black.

I was awoken by Nick many hours later, and he began to tell me how the mast had fallen on me. After Alex had stabbed the Kraken in the eye, it had released us from its clutches, but not before it had driven Alex, Captain Not Notson, and Andrew Not Notson to the grave. The news hit me hard. I mourned the loss of the captain and his son. And Alex, oh Alex, he had become my great friend.

June 10th

We passed the sandbar without trouble and are heading straight for Cape Farewell in Greenland. We only have enough rations for one more day. A lot of the crew have passed. Only four of the original ten members are still alive. The new captain is Luke Ash, a skinny, shy man. I spent the morning pacing in my cabin. When lunchtime came, I ate little and paced the deck. Luke ordered me to read a book. I read, but my mind drifted. “What if my family didn’t want me back?” Suddenly, Nick said that we had arrived at Cape Farewell and I shouted in joy. I packed everything I owned and said my goodbyes.

I stepped off the ship and followed a familiar cobblestone road lined with intricate houses. As I walked the neighborhood, I arrived at my house and, seeing my family in the garden, sprinted as fast as I could to them and wrapped them in a hug. “We want to hear everything!” They said.

“Well,” said I, “I was a young seaman….”

The end (maybe)