Exploration: The Stanfield Chronicles by Tory David

Author:Tory, David
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: River Grove Books
Published: 2020-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Journal entry—26 April to 15 June 1615

I am in Damariscove, due to ship back to England on a fishing boat tomorrow. But I must start at the beginning.

After arriving at Monhegan, we spent two days exploring the island. We saw ample evidence of past presence of sailors, with their belongings and supplies presumably stored for future use. It was apparent that Monhegan was being used as some kind of base or destination point. We checked out the wooden cross, which looked like it had been there for some time. I seem to remember Rosier saying something about it, but I couldn’t recall the details. It certainly seemed that Monhegan was being used by fishermen. We could see an attempt to build racks to dry fish as well as to store gear, but these efforts hadn’t seemed to have come to much. Possibly, the fishermen had been frightened off by Indians. The fish drying racks didn’t seem to be located in a particularly convenient place, requiring too much effort to haul the fish up to the racks. Some trees had been cleared but there was no obvious extensive flat rock close to the water’s edge. There had been a garden plot cleared and planted, not long previously. Various vegetables had grown but gone to seed. Peg said that he understood from the skipper that Captain John Smith had sailed over a few months before us. He had intended to aim for Monhegan. Perhaps this plot was his.

Why did I feel I knew that already? Wherever the ground was open, grass grew in abundance. There were tracks through the trees, evidence of Indian feasts, piles of shell, and fire pits on the cliffs looking south over the Atlantic. The island was as Assacomet had described—beautiful and peaceful, surrounded by ocean views, teeming with bird life, rabbit, and deer. While we were exploring, others of the crew were restocking Rosie. Water casks were cleaned, to be refilled from a sweet spring on the island. Wild berry bushes grew in abundance, promising fruit in the months ahead, as well as game for fresh meat. As for fish, no skill was required. Throw a line with hook, and a huge cod would strike immediately. The waters around Monhegan teemed with fish. According to those who had fished Newfoundland, the size and the amount were beyond anything they had previously experienced, all there for the taking and much earlier in the year.

On the third evening, with the skipper’s blessing and no sign of Indians, I indulged the need to exchange the squalor of the lower deck for the sights, sounds, and—above all—sweet smells of land, deciding to camp ashore with three crew, armed and prepared for any trouble. We had a small campfire for cooking. It was a clear night, and although no moon, the starlight was extraordinary. I slipped away from our camp to relieve myself, after which I walked through the trees to look north toward the dark strip of land five or six miles away.

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