We washed up today on a sandy isle, just south of the Hawaiian island chains. The disaster wasn't expected. I feel that when I return home, I will be court-martialed, hung, and drawn. That is, unless my men mutiny first and do the quartering first, and send my parts home to be hung later.
Due to my error, at least fifteen of the King's men are dead, claimed by the ocean, as honourable death as any. I was... drawn into a trance while issuing orders. Some claim that it was the siren's call that made me lose my focus, and drag the ship off-course. To tell the truth, there was no loss of focus. I believed that I was on the right course the whole time. I was genuinely surprised when the planks started falling away from under my feet. I hit my head on the way down, and only now do I even know where we are.
The stars are clear, at least. I always wished that if I was to die, I would do so under the heavens unveiled. That way I could at least see where it would be that the good souls go. Mine is just envious, down it will go, not up. Lucifer himself will likely torture me, crack my old bones over his favorite rack. I am not afraid though. Whatever happens to me, now and in the future, is justice. No matter how cruel things seem, I have faith that there will be balance, and everything will get its due in the end.
Fifteen dead men are to my name. I hope God takes them close to him, and shows mercy and forgiveness to the rest of my crew. I can hear them coming for me...
Please, may it be quick.
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