Wednesday June 21, 1719
Sad day on the Pink Daffodil for we lost two members of our crew and nearly another. One of the lads, Two-Tooth MacRae, lost his head to the blade of the Frenchman when the two got into dispute over a bare-breasted maid on Oak Island. Wouldn't be the first time the Frenchman let his passions get the best of him. He nearly lost his own dear sweet breath one day down into the tropics when he tried to jolly roger some native princess.
I reckon I'm gonna shed some tears over the partin' of Two-Tooth. He could tell a tall tale indeed, some mighty big fish tales, especially from his whaling days on the Pequod, sailing out of Nantucket under Ahab. The whole crew will be wonderin' what the old Capt'n will do with the Frenchy. He might jus' bury 'em here in this desolate place or he jus' might go ahead and make 'em mate. I am bettin' Frenchy just finished up his days.
Oh, the other two. Strangest thing. Try as we might, we can't lay an eye on either the cat or the cabin boy. The last I saw of old Percy was him sharpening his claws on da' bow rail and the last sighting of Jimmie was his walking off from the beach fire to take a leak. I'm thinking the cat took a starboard turn off the ship when he ought to have gone to port and as to jimmy, probably ran off to find fairer weather among the islanders.
Praise the Lord! Jo ghost sightings in my watch but did hear the singing of some rum soaked lads from a three master that anchored off the point. From her shadow, I made her out to be the La Fantasma, the b*tch's b*tch.
Jonny Roe, no souls saved, in fact two, maybe three souls lost