Its been seven days and the food is starting to run low. Three of the men have killed themselves. Horrifyingly we have kept them and ate them. We only have one water barrel left now. I have tried to contact the land with smoke but it is no use. The sailors are getting restless and cruel. I pry for our survival.

October 13, 1629

Four more have been killed. The men are starting to get savage. I have had to lock myself in my room for they have tried to take me. My crew is crazed and sick. We have no hope left.

October 16, 1629

I have snuck out of my room at night. I have four more bodies of my people. I pray the woman on bored are still alive.

October 20, 1629

I have killed the last of my people in cold blood. I’m the last one yet. I have found a way to boil the water till drinkable. The only food I have left is the decaying flesh of my people. I pity them, for they have done nothing but served me. The sea it’s self is getting restless and cruel. I don’t know how much longer I will be alive.