Thursday 17th July 1808

Dear Diary,
Such a sleepless night. I know not how these seamen rest. The incessant creaking and groaning of the timbers of 'The Hepatitis B' are torment enough but in addition one has to endure constant undulation. I was just about to drift into slumber when a bell sounded and hurried footsteps moved through the passageway outside. I turned to face the cabin wall and tried to sleep again but it was all to no avail and eventually turned back. I suddenly felt I was not alone and opened my eyes to find Bob's face lying upon my pillow, but a few inches from me, grinning.
"Can I get yer anything Mr Austen?" he whispered.
"No, thank you," I whispered back. He smiled and closed his eyes and snuggled into the pillow so I pushed him out and he fell to the floor with a bump.
"Goodnight Bob," and I indicated the door. He slipped out like a shameful cat.
I awoke to another bell and dressed and went up on deck. It was light. The sky and sea were equally grey, one was full of motion while the other remained static. The air was fresh and cold. I could see no land in any direction.
"D'ya sleep well, Mr Austen?" It was Seaman Swallows. He did not wait for my answer before continuing..."There's some porridge on the stove."
I still did not feel hungry and the thought of porridge made me gasp in more air. Seaman Swallows noticed me watching a large sailor coiling some rope.
"That's Effin Frank," he said, "likes to keep 'imself to 'imself."
"Indeed?" I replied, interested.
Seaman Swallows went down below and I wandered in the direction of Effin Frank.
"Lovely morning," I smiled. He did not look up but just grunted. I tried to engage him again;
"Lovely place the Effin Vale. Do you know the Tents?"
I cannot convey the outpouring that followed but I declare my ears almost fell off. He made it quite clear that I should mind my own business and leave him to do his. I doubt Frank had ever been to the Effin Vale and gained his sobriquet for a different reason.
The arrival in Holland pleased me more than I expected and I left 'The Hepatitis B' with little sorrow. My papers were checked and I was escorted to a waiting carriage. The coachman introduced himself as Ben DeKok, a pleasant fellow with a firm handshake. I was keen to survey all the new sights and my first windmill was exciting, but by the thirty first I was very much less impressed. I watched the countryside roll past for sometime before the lack of sleep the previous night overcame me and I slept.
It is late and we have reached Overdinkel on the border. Supper was dutch cheese! How ready I am for a german sausage!