Sunday 12th October 1808

Dear Diary,
The accomodation aboard the 'Titan Nick' is more agreeable than that of the 'Hepatitis B' though, not much. Miss Dixon seems quite taken with her quarters. She wanders the deck barefooted. Earlier today a light zephyr lifted her skirts and I caught a glimpse of her sturdy sea legs. I felt they needed a shave but am sure many a sailor would be proud to own them. I came over all queer as I stood at the bow searching the sea ahead for a glimpse of Willow's ship. He is out there somewhere and I am determined to find him and yet it is beginning to dawn on me, the enormity of the task I am undertaking. New York is no Pimpmouth and how shall I find him there?
I made polite conversation with the captain at the helm.
"You have a lovely ship" I commented.
"Aye, I did ta," he said, "but I wouldn't go in there for a few minutes...let the air clear."
It seems he is hard of hearing.