able to take my watch without difficulty. When I came in to sleep, the dose was repeated. There is an extraordinary clarity in my thoughts. I am unable to sleep. Writing this by candle.
I am asking myself where I came from, how I got here, and who I am. From earliest memory I have felt myself a stranger in the village of Harbor Point where I was born. Who was I? I remember mourning doves calling from the woods in summer dawn, and the long cold shut-in winters. Who was I? The stranger was footsteps in the snow a long time ago.
And who are the others—Brady, Hansen, Paco, Todd? Strangers like myself. I think that we came from another world and have been stranded here like mariners on some barren and hostile shore. I never felt that what we did together was wrong, but I fully understood the necessity and wisdom of concealing it from the villagers. Now that there is no need for concealment, I feel as if this ship is the home I had left and thought never to find again. But the voyage will end of course, and what then?
I know that my father will shortly be a wealthy man and that I could become, in course of time, wealthy myself. The prospect holds little appeal. Of what use is wealth if I must conform to customs that are as meaningless to me as they are obstructive of my true inclination and desires? I am minded to seek my fortunes in the Red Sea or in South America. Perhaps I could find employment with the de Fuentes family.
Now the face of Juan drifts before my eyes, and divorced by the effects of opium from the urgings and pricklings of lust I can examine the vision dispassionately. I feel not only attraction but kinship. He too is a stranger, but he moves with ease and confidence among the terrestrials.
Shore leave
Feb. 12, 1702: For some reason we will not dock at Charleston as planned. The weather is milder each day.
The de Fuentes twins now walk about the deck familiarizing themselves with all the workings and parts of the ship. Everything they do or say seems to have some hidden purpose. Juan has asked me many questions relative to my trade as a gunsmith. Would it be possible to shoot arrows from a gun? I replied that it would and suddenly saw a picture of Indians attacking a settlement with arrows tipped with burning pitch. I cannot recall where I saw this picture before, probably in Boston. As the picture flashed through my mind Juan nodded and smiled and walked away. His twin sister has the manner and directness of a man, with none of the coy enticing ways usually found in her sex. In any case female blandishments would here fall on barren soil. Yet I must confess myself more attracted to her than to any woman I have yet seen.
Feb. 13, 1702: Good winds and fair weather continue. We no longer need our greatcoats.
Feb. 14, 1702: We are now off the coast of Florida and seldom out of sight of land since there are many islands. Dolphins leap about the prow and flying fish scatter before us in silver showers. We are now able to work without shirts but Mr. Thomas has cautioned us to be careful of sunburn and to expose ourselves only for minutes at a time. Captain Jones appears on deck, scanning the horizon through his telescope. I think he plans to put in at one of the islands for fresh water and provisions.
Feb. 15, 1702: Mr. Thomas's warning, both Bert and myself have painful sunburns from the waist up, owing to our fair complexions, whereas Clinch, Sean, and Paco are unaffected. Bill, Guy, and Adam never take their shirts off. Charlie Lee, the cook, has some skill as physician though without formal training. He has given us an ointment to rub on our bodies, which has afforded considerable relief, and we have both taken some drops of opium tincture. Adam has given me a small bottle and showed me how to measure out the correct dose. He tells me the amount he takes would make us deathly sick and could be lethal.
Feb. 16, 1702: I am now recovered from the sunburn and my body is beginning to acquire a protective tan. This morning we all gathered at the rail to witness a great commotion in the water a few hundred yards ahead, occasioned by mackerel leaping to escape larger fish. Mr. Thomas gave the order to lower sail and issued fishing poles with spoons and triple hooks.
In a short time a number of great fish were flapping on the deck. These fish are known as yellowtails and are highly esteemed for the table. We were kept busy cleaning the fish, at which of course we are adept from our experience on the Great Lakes. Some were reserved for immediate use and the others salted and laid away. After the blood was washed from the decks we hoisted sail and proceeded on our way. The fresh fish has provided a most welcome change from a diet of salt cod and cornmeal, although the flavour is not as delicate as fish from fresh water.
Feb. 18, 1702: Dreamed this morning I was in a large workshop with tools, a forge, and gun parts scattered on a bench. I was examining a gun with a number of barrels welded together. I was trying to arrive at a method of firing the barrels in sequence. Juan was standing to one side and behind me. He pointed to an iron wheel with a handle and said something I did not catch because at this moment Clinch Todd came off his watch and awakened me, grumbling that we had ejaculated all over his blankets.
The wind has fallen and we are moving now at a few knots an hour.
*
Feb. 19, 20, 21, 1702: We are almost becalmed and take advantage of the slow movement to fish from the deck. I hooked a shark and the pole was torn from my
