I am almost there.

Sometime ago, Myere and I went a sail on Doc. Morgans' vacant ship HMS Rescue. I have been worked like a dog, but as we draw closer to the Sandwich Isles I have a strange feeling we are not alone. Warwood contacted me about Wickits' slumber, and I have since then been questioning my motives about my decision of coming out onto the sea in the first place. As soon as I obtain the plant Angevin sent me out here for, I am making sure I will stop by a mainland bar to regain my sense of time. I often loose myself when at sea for too long.