March 17th, 1762

It’s getting harder and harder to tell where we are, and i’m afraid we might be lost. I don’t know how to tell the crewmen that we are slowly running out of food as the time passes. I have started thinking about death. I am trying to search for answers, digging in my brain for anything that might help. The only thing that I have is we sail in one direction and hope for the best. We have to hit land eventually, right?

March 21st, 1762

We have been sailing east for 5 days now, and there is still no sight of land. The water is getting harder and harder to navigate, and the waves are only getting stronger. I think there is a storm coming soon. I am trying to get these men back to their families, they have their whole lives ahead of them, but I don’t know if it is possible anymore. I think we’re running out of time.

March 23rd, 1762

I think this will be my last entry. Things are bad here. The winds are getting so fierce that we can’t hear ourselves think and everybody is seasick from going over the huge waves. Even if that want an issue, we officially ran out of food. Now that I think about it, dying in a storm wouldn’t be so bad. At least it would be less painful than starving to death. I never thought that I would be in this situation, pondering death. What could I do if I only had more time? At least I got to tell my wife and kids that I love them for one last time.