My name is Adam Wright, Seaman 1st Class on the merchant ship Hamilton from the small port town of Costa da Caparica, Portugal. My story may sound like the imaginations of a man who has spent much too much time at sea, but I swear to the heavens above, it is absolutely true.

It was June of 1668 and we were on what was supposed to be a four month trip to get spices and exotic fruits from what we now called Brazil. The weather was beautiful the day we set sail, and everyone was in high spirits. We had laid in plenty of supplies to make the round trip and were all prepared to set sail.

I had a girl, Elizabeth, who had come to see me off at the dock. I always hated these moments – I hated to say goodbye and I especially hated knowing that this may be the last time I ever saw her lovely face again. Sailing on the high seas was always fraught with danger and many a man has went to a watery grave before making it home again.

I was in my Elizabeth’s arms when the ship’s bell rang, telling us to board so we could shove off. After giving my love one last kiss, I turned and walked up the gangplank to take my position aboard the ship. I would be one of the deckhands and my position on the rail next to the fore mast meant I was one of the riggers who would have to climb up the shrouds to furl and unfurl the sails as the deck boss directed.

We all had said our goodbyes and boarded the ship. We backed slowly out of the dock and we were away. As the people on the docks waved, we slowly left them in the distance. Soon they had all but disappeared and before us lay the vast expanses of the Atlantic Ocean.

We quickly settled into a routine. This wasn’t our first voyage; many of us had been to sea many times before. I, myself, had been to sea twice before for different lengths of time. So we were a seasoned crew with only a couple cabin boys who were new.

Our captain was a good man – fair but stern. He had a mind to what he wanted and so long as you did what you were told things were good. However, if you slacked off or, God forbid, failed in your work, well he had recourse there as well!

The first leg of our journey took us to a small group of islands called the Azores, about 760 nautical miles from our home port. There we were to take on some fresh supplies and prepare ourselves for the longest and most dangerous part of the trip. We made it to the Azores and to a small port of Ponta Delgada. It took us five days sailing to reach Ponta Delgada, but we had good winds and smooth seas.

It was a nice little place, mostly a fishing village, but it could handle the larger ships as well due to the deep water surrounding it. We anchored a short ways offshore so we wouldn’t interrupt their fishing and used the ship’s dinghy to restock the ship. After a couple days to resupply and rest, we got prepared for the next leg of our voyage.

The second and much longer leg of our journey was to take us from the Azores to Sao Luis, Brazil, some 2,600 nautical miles away. This part of the trip should have taken us about 18 days sailing time. However, five and a half days out of Ponta Delgada we came into a terrible storm.

The seas began to get choppy early in the day and the winds began picking up, setting to us from the starboard. As the day progressed, the weather got worse and by mid-day we were looking at 20 foot seas and the ship was rolling about. As the storm got more intense the seas piled up and by late that afternoon we were facing an all out storm with winds around 40 knots and 30 foot seas.

To protect the ship, the deck boss ordered the sails furled, that is rolled up and tied, so that they wouldn’t be ripped to shreds by the high winds. So several of us scampered up the shrouds to furl the sails.

My particular job was on the main topgallant, that is to say, the second sail from the top on the center mast of a three-masted ship. I climbed up the shroud, the net-looking rope ladders on the sides of masts, to my position and climbed out on the arm to get the sail tied up.

The ship was bucking and rolling in the high seas and the wind was fierce, I couldn’t believe the captain had waited so long to call for the sails to be furled. But he was the captain and it didn’t pay for a common deckhand to question his judgement. I had just tied one of the gaskets (the ropes used to secure a furled sail) and was working on another when it happened.

I had reached over the top of the topgallant arm when the ship was struck on the starboard by a exceptionally large wave making the whole ship lurch to the port side. I didn’t have a good enough grip on the arm I guess, and when the ship bucked, I was thrown off the arm and into the boiling sea. I guess I can consider myself lucky I didn’t land on the ship itself, the fall would have surely killed me outright! But instead I was plunged into a watery world completely without warning.

I knew the instant I hit the water that there would be no way anyone could rescue me – you just don’t turn a big sailing ship around on a dime, much less in a storm like this! So falling into an angry sea is pretty much a death sentence and the only thing you can do is to tread water until you get too tired and slip under the water to drown or a shark gets you and ends things quicker. But no matter the way it ends, your life expectancy isn’t very good.

I did the best I could to stay afloat hoping against hope that something would be washed off the ship that I could cling to. But it the pitching and rolling seas, finding salvation is more than anyone can really hope for. As good a swimmer as I was, I was no competition for the mountainous waves that seemed to come on relentlessly. Eventually I, too, slipped under the surface and closed my eyes, I thought forever.

This is where my story gets strange.

I woke up not looking at the Pearly Gates or even at the inky darkness of the ocean depths. Instead I found myself on a sandy beach on a lovely looking tropical island. And I was not at the waters edge as if I washed ashore.

Rather, I was well back from the water’s edge, as if someone or something dragged me away from the water. I rose, astounded that I had survived. The seas were calm once more and the storm had passed. How long had I been laying on the beach? How did I get here? Who was my rescuer? I was awash in questions and no answers to be found.

Even more perplexing was a tray made from woven palm fronds onto which my benefactor had placed a nice assortment of fruits, vegetables, nuts, and fish. This I found off to my right and only a few feet away. I was indeed hungry, in fact I was ravenous and I ate the food with relish. After I ate, I fell asleep exhausted from my ordeal and warmed by the sun and a full belly.

I woke several hours later to another surprising sight. In the sand, a line had been drawn and a fruit placed every few feet as if trying to get me to follow it. Curious, but also wary, I did follow the line and it led quite happily to a small cave which my guardian had lined with grasses covered with palm leaves and in the cave that same palm frond tray was there once again filled with foodstuffs. It was quite a nice shelter considering what there was around to work with. Again I accepted my hidden protectors hospitality and moved into the shelter.

This hidden support went on for several days, some sort of gift or aid being left each time I slept. I began to look for what new comfort had been left. Never was there a track or clue to who was aiding me though. I had gained enough strength through this secret patron to be able to explore my island home.

Not that there was a lot to explore – it was a very small island only about 12 miles north to south and 15 miles east to west as best I could figure. I never saw any sign of wild animals, at least nothing I needed to worry about, which was very good.

One day I purposed to learn the identity of my hidden benefactor. I laid down in my cave bed at my usual time and feigned sleep. It took awhile, but eventually I heard the soft padding of footsteps on the ground outside my cave home. I laid perfectly still and cracked one eye open just a slit – enough to see movement. I snapped awake and sat up, catching my protagonist completely off guard!

But I was caught equally unprepared, for my champion was a woman!

She was about 5’ 6” tall with long brown hair and brown eyes. She was a lovely creature with long legs, slim hips, and full breasts. She had the face of an angel, and I felt my heart skip a beat when I first gazed upon her.

“H-hello?” I said, just as shocked to see her as she was to be caught by me.

“Hello ... Adam,” she said.

“You know my name? How?” I asked incredulously.

“I know all about you, Adam. Why do you think I have helped you?”

“But how? Who are you? What is all this?” I said, a barrage of questions flying from my mouth at her.

“Sit down Adam and I will try to explain,” she said calmly. I’m glad one of us was calm, because I certainly was not!

“My name is Cassandra. I have known you since your very first fishing trips back in Portugal. I have followed you every time you ventured into the sea.”

“I, I don’t...” I said, dumbfounded.

“I know it is a lot to understand for right now. But I will explain things as time goes by.”