Fri May 15
Very depressed . . . 22 days at sea now and no end in sight. Morrison has some form of consumption and refuses all rations. Bates and Moss are attending to him, but I fear the worst.
Yesterday sighted large masses below the boat, although no surface fins appeared. The wind has died down since Tuesday and the canvas has been low ever since. No sign of land, nor the telltale accompaniments; gulls or gannets nor any driftwood.
If you find this pitiful account, maybe tossed on some shore by a storm, please pass on the tale of these 12 desperate souls marooned in a small boat in the middle of the ocean. God bless you all.
Oh, and could you pick up a couple of beers at the dépanneur while you’re at it?
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