Monday

26th February 1671

A note to myself in future times : Steamboat crewsmen are salty and dim and believe dolphins to be a type of fruit. We set sail at first light out into the endless ocean dragging clouds on pieces of string in our wake. I have no clear idea of where we are going and felt sad waving the sobbing lobsters goodbye, but the future is a bright country the likes of which I have not seen, the shadows must be kept at bay.

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