Ship's Log
by Ellie Tolputt
Monday 21st October 1805
This morning I set sail, remembering nothing about the midnight incident until I
felt the scar on my cheek. It was still bleeding a bit, but I did not care, for
it made me look a fiercer captain. I steered the ship away, and called for the crew.
They came, but they didn't look normal. They looked suspicious and different to
when I last saw them. I gave them a look up and down, and asked John to climb into
the crow's nest and be on the lookout. He said nothing, and turned away to do his
task. 'How very peculiar,' I thought to myself.
Away we went, the strong wind blowing into the sails of our ship, 'The Whalebone',
making them inflate like a proud bird puffing up his chest. I started to have my
lunch down under the quarter deck, for I asked Robinson to steer the ship. My lunch
was a sardine and a tomato. James sat in the corner, drinking rum. I warned him
not to drink too much but he took no notice and drank the entire bottle. He then
sauntered, much like an ostrich, up the stairs.
After luncheon, I came cautiously up on deck. John was not on the lookout, I saw
he was whispering to the crew, as if they did not want me to hear. What is going
on? Hopefully I will find out tomorrow.
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