Welcome to the docks, 1776. And, may I add, to a brand new year full of hope, which God has seen fit to name especially for you.
But first, welcome to the weather. Well? What were you were expecting, joining me like this in the dead of an English winter? Oh all right, yes, true. It's my fault. But there was nothing that could be done about it. It's not only in summer when I make plans and collect secrets to share. In fact, I'm sure I have even more to share in winter, when the world leaves me alone for longer each night with my thoughts.
But enough of that!
For not everything is so bleak, my new companion. You see, I have a little surprise planned for you. And oh my goodness, you won't believe it when you find out what it is. (1775 would have killed for your luck!) I'll give you a clue. Do you know anything of a great ocean on the other side of the world? And in the middle of that ocean, of an island called Tahiti? Aha! Of course you don't! A fresh, new journal like you full of empty pages knows nothing at all. So I will tell you everything you need to know for now:
But first, welcome to the weather. Well? What were you were expecting, joining me like this in the dead of an English winter? Oh all right, yes, true. It's my fault. But there was nothing that could be done about it. It's not only in summer when I make plans and collect secrets to share. In fact, I'm sure I have even more to share in winter, when the world leaves me alone for longer each night with my thoughts.
But enough of that!
For not everything is so bleak, my new companion. You see, I have a little surprise planned for you. And oh my goodness, you won't believe it when you find out what it is. (1775 would have killed for your luck!) I'll give you a clue. Do you know anything of a great ocean on the other side of the world? And in the middle of that ocean, of an island called Tahiti? Aha! Of course you don't! A fresh, new journal like you full of empty pages knows nothing at all. So I will tell you everything you need to know for now:
Tahiti … is paradise.
HMS Resolution and her sister ship HMS Adventure in Matavai Bay, Tahiti in August 1773 during Captain Cook's Second Voyage (Painted in 1776 by William Hodges)
Yes, yes. I know. You don't want a geography lesson. You want to know what your surprise is, don't you. You are so impatient! But all right, I'll give you another clue. And if you don't catch on this time, I shall be forced to think you a very thick book indeed. And here it is:
We are not long for Plymouth, and for Plymouth we shall not long.
Have you got it? Yes, you have!
Oh I'm so good to you, but I'm cruel, too. Because alas, the off could be months away. But I just couldn't help myself, I'm so excited. Oh my goodness, 1776. The thought occupies my every waking minute and my every sleeping one, too.
But stop. I've run ahead of myself. Listen, you must keep my news to yourself. It's a secret. One we can share with not even the captain into whose service I plan to have us pressed (more about that later), the much too wonderful James Cook. For now, we must stay warm by hugging our happy news to only ourselves. Otherwise, my plans will be scuttled and next winter will find you hidden away down below with your predecessors and me once again freezing my life away in this hole.
My goodness. Did you feel that?
Such an icy breeze. I'm sure that one went right through me. And oh, it's getting dark. The dark always creeps up on me when I am writing. Ah 1776, it's good to have you on board. I do miss 1775, and I felt a stab in my heart last night when I put her away down below, along with all the promises I had made with her this time last year. But this time it's going to work. I am older now. Nineteen and not far off twenty. And this time I have you, and all your empty pages full of promise.
That will have to do for now. My fingers are no longer able to grip my pencil firmly enough to write properly, not that I can see what I'm writing anyway. So goodnight, my new friend. It's time for me to find somewhere sleep. Let's meet up again tomorrow, once again at dusk.
Oh I'm so good to you, but I'm cruel, too. Because alas, the off could be months away. But I just couldn't help myself, I'm so excited. Oh my goodness, 1776. The thought occupies my every waking minute and my every sleeping one, too.
But stop. I've run ahead of myself. Listen, you must keep my news to yourself. It's a secret. One we can share with not even the captain into whose service I plan to have us pressed (more about that later), the much too wonderful James Cook. For now, we must stay warm by hugging our happy news to only ourselves. Otherwise, my plans will be scuttled and next winter will find you hidden away down below with your predecessors and me once again freezing my life away in this hole.
My goodness. Did you feel that?
Such an icy breeze. I'm sure that one went right through me. And oh, it's getting dark. The dark always creeps up on me when I am writing. Ah 1776, it's good to have you on board. I do miss 1775, and I felt a stab in my heart last night when I put her away down below, along with all the promises I had made with her this time last year. But this time it's going to work. I am older now. Nineteen and not far off twenty. And this time I have you, and all your empty pages full of promise.
***
That will have to do for now. My fingers are no longer able to grip my pencil firmly enough to write properly, not that I can see what I'm writing anyway. So goodnight, my new friend. It's time for me to find somewhere sleep. Let's meet up again tomorrow, once again at dusk.
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