15th of June, 1499,

We approach France as we turn from the Netherlands. The journey shouldn't take too long. I am aware I have not ended my past entry appropriately, nor have I written yesterday. So I must summarize the past events.

In reference to my past entry, I never did find out the reason we changed course for Prussia. As to the abrupt way the entry was ended, we had been under attack by who looked like the Spaniard I saw on the coast of Prussia. Captain Antonio Carriedo Fernandez, he was called.

We had lost fourteen men. That is why we stopped at Netherlands, it was to hire new men. We had the advice of a Dutch crew member on where to look. I never did succeed in remembering his name. 

Once more, Arthur Kirkland tainted the normal conflict with mystery.

He had won the duel of the two Captains, but with a sword slash to his right leg's artery. That would kill a man, in the very least knock him out. Arthur had only winced, and then healed perfectly. This was not humanely possible. Yet it had happened. I begin to doubt he is human.

After the event, he had grown more bitter, though his spirits lifted once we docked at the Netherlands. He had informed me was conceiving a strategy for France. What it was, that was concealed from me. 

He had gained the respect of most of the crew by now, and as I watched it happen, I saw his expert manipulating skills in action. He really was more dangerous than he let on. It is quite shaking. Yet he gives off an air of childish recklessness, and he quite likely is, so I fear what he may be planning for France. 

Dean once told me he saw the Captain's eyes glow. Dean is not a liar, but he is easily deceived, so it is highly possible he was mistaken. Yet I still doubted Arthur to be human, so one may never be sure with this Captain. 

I have just heard a yell of fear. What the bloody hell goes on below deck? I say that as though I don't know. It's chaos, that's what. Oh, I simply cannot wait for the moment when I set foot on London once more. She may be just as chaotic, but she has her charms. 

It is one of the few times I manage to write sat on top deck. It surprises me that I never tire of the sea air. It would be a play on words to say it has a certain air of appeal to it. Oh well. My, it's the first time I write in quite a while to quench my thirst for it and have not been rudely interrupted and forced to stop. Well, I hope France goes well.

Don't die in France, 

Jonathan Williams