Captain’s Log,

Rodriguez Alacruz

Date and coordinates (Smudged beyond recognition. Apparently on purpose.)

Yesterday’s storm damaged the quarterdeck railing and put a crack in the foremast. There were only minor injuries among the crew although our helmsman received a crack on his head and has been confined to bedrest. About noon, the lookout called a sighting for flotsam. There was a man clinging to it. I initially thought he must have belonged to a ship that went down in the storm but I think he was out there longer than that. He was half-dead and babbling incoherently. How he survived the squall I can’t say. The ragged man practically collapsed when we brought on board. He’s a captain judging by his clothes. He carried a small knife worn to a nub and one other thing. He was clutching something in his hand. It took a while to pry it from him. It was A=a model ship. Intricately carved. It’s a miracle it survived. The ship has the words “The Red Rose” carved into the figure head. I’ve heard of that vessel. A pirate hunter captained by Sir Reginald Dafeers. The man could be Dafeers. I’ll have to wait until he wakes up and ask him.

(Date smudged.)

Our shipwrecked man awoke this morning. I’m afraid that he is quite mad. He kept shouting obscenities and calling out the names of men who I assume were members of his crew. He became violent and attacked our ship’s doctor. Even weakened as he is, it took three of my strongest men to subdue him and tie him to his bunk. We finally managed to calm him by putting the model ship back in his hands. I tried to converse with him to find out who he is but his eyes glazed over and it was if I was talking to a corpse.

(Date smudged.)

The mysterious captain is dead. Somehow during the night he broke loose of his bonds and then used the ropes to hang himself. I regret that I was not able to learn his name. We buried at sea as is the custom. May the gods grant him peace. We kept the model ship. We will take it back to port and see if anyone recognizes it so that we can inform any family of the lost ship.

(Last Entry. Date smudged)

The crew have been on edge the last few days. They’ve been jumping at shadows and hearing strange voices. I would say that it was only foolish superstition except for what I saw. Last night, I awoke and someone was in the room. I swear it was the dead captain. He was just looking right at me. I flipped on the light and he was gone. I don’t think it was a nightmare but I wish it was. There’s something evil on board. You can feel it breathing down your neck. The navigator says we should arrive in port in a day or two. I’ve pushed for greater speed. We will sail hard and fast through the night. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.