Thursday 9th October 1808

Dear Diary,
Pimpmouth was much larger than I expected. I stabled Python close to the harbour and then stood on the street and wondered where to commence my search for Willow.
Did he have family here?
I remembered my dream and decided to search the nearby churchyard for Woofters but found none buried within. I walked back to the harbour, which appeared to be the most bustling area of town. A large three masted ship was just leaving the quayside and people were cheering and waving. I looked for his familiar face amongst the gathered throng but my search was in vain.
At last I stopped a gay fellow who came whistling along the quayside.
"Excuse me, Sir, but I am looking for a Woofter." I smiled.
"Ooh, you want the Rump and Rodger just along the Quay," he winked.
I set off in the direction the fellow had indicated but was stopped in my tracks by a sailor, sat upon a wooden mooring post, who was playing a nautical ditty upon...... a pink oboe!
"Where did you get that?" I entreated him. He removed the instrument from his lips and looked at me suspiciously.
"Careful!," he smirked, "you'll have my eye out with that nose!"
"Forgive me," I replied, "but I am looking for a man that owned an oboe such as that." He listened while I described Willow and nodded encouragingly throughout.
"Yep, sounds like the fellow who gave it to me," he said.
"Where might I find him?" I asked anxiously.
"On that ship," said the sailor, pointing to the large, three masted ship heading for the horizon.
My reaction to the news must have been dramatic for he leapt up from his perch saying;
"You ok? 'Ere have a seat on my bollock."
I was utterly devastated.
"Where is that ship bound?" I managed to utter.
"New York," he said.