The Eastindiaman off the coast of Tortuga after my boarding.
The crossing of a great ocean of the Earth will never be an easy voyage. No sane person could attempt it without a profound sense of his or her own smallness and futility. One crosses such watery spaces with the compliance of the fates and without such natural aggreement one is doomed, no matter how they lived their lives or how many times they bothered to pray to God.
Not long ago the Dominicans sent a small fleet of Brigs from Spain to Vera Cruz. At least that was the intended destination. The fleet sailed from several Spanish ports. Sent word from the Canaries then vanished from the Earth. Many ships sail into oblivion and to return to Europe is the worse course; with the currents and winds not prevailing.
Our journey took us from Tortuga north to St. Augustine, then on a northerly course and finally sourthward again until we made Barfluer. It was a journey of five and a half weeks. Not bad at all. I have known of some captains that fight the currents and the winds to go straight at Spain, France, or England, and spend the better half of a year at sea only to make port in Boston or North Africa.
I hope that my time at Vaux Le Comte is brief.
Our crossing!
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