This morning I, capitaine of the Michaud, am adrift in the Sargasso Sea. My crew stands listlessly at their posts. It's no use to give them busywork to do, it's all been done. We await only on a freshening breeze that so far hasn't come. 
     Our craft groans and creaks as it bobs lightly on the waves, waves that come from somewhere over the horizon, for here it is dead still. 
     Strange brown sea grass surrounds the hull of our ship, dampening the effect of the currents that would carry us out of this trap we so innocently sailed into. 
    Becalmed we are, with no means of propelling ourselves save current and wind. Occasionally, the rudder is freed from any matter that would slow our progress. 
      It's a wonder to me, to us, how we could be upon the briny deep and yet be so stilled. 
    Journal entries show days of little movement, and our stores are nightly meted out in precise amounts lest they be too soon extinguished. We are not yet in peril and I dare not tell the men the exact amount of our remaining nourishment. Grog is given nightly to lift dampened spirits. 
     Our voyage takes us to the shores of the New Land, to the west, there to disperse supplies to the settlers. Many of my crew will join them, but I and enough men plan to restock our ship and journey home, though I wonder now if I will have sufficient crew. Already I see signs of wavering and even fear in some of them, for nor they or I anticipated this. 
      Still, it could be worse. We could be caught in storm, which we were, briefly, before encountering these conditions. 

     Aye, 'tis a sailors lot to face the unknown.

     Here it is not bravery that is being tested, it is fortitude. Inner strength alone will carry each of us through. We must inwardly, each of us, have resolve. 
    And of the courageous I must silently bear the most pain. I must show confident face always to the men. Any sign of loss of faith will infect the crew. Mutiny could, at worst, follow.
     To that end the chain of command is strictly observed for my boatswain, quartermaster, and first mate, those who have sailed before, understand the need for order. 
     For it is just us, few in number, who are charged with providing for the safety of our crew. Though we may be many miles at sea we answer to those who have financed our voyage, they being present on both shores.

     Tonight's sextant reading shows that our position continues to change, relative to the stars and sun. The current is taking us slowly, yet steadily, towards the west.