April 15th, Seventh Morning Bell
It has been twenty and one days out at sea without the sight of land. I am grateful of this diary father has given me. It has a black leather cover with gold painted on the sides of the bound pages. Moreover, it gives me something to do when time passes so slowly on this wretched ship. It is not that I do not mind being a pirate captain's daughter, it is just the fact that I am the only girl on the , despite that I am the youngest person onboard being fifteen and three quarters. Well, there is a cabin boy who is twelve but he is only on the ship when we are expected to have a very long voyage. Otherwise, he stays in Singapore with his brother who is eighteen and works on our sister ship, the Demise. Therefore, I do not believe that counts. Thankfully, only I, my father, and the doctor on this ship can read so I can write almost anything I will and not have to worry about this diary falling into the wrong hands. The surgeon of our ship's name is William, but we call him Doctor. He is forty and five, old to be still working on such an active ship like ours. I am just amazed how he can get his very curly pumpkin colored hair to look so nice. I can not do anything with my black hair that is as straight as sticks. Nevertheless, he is very kind to the crew and especially me since, I am shamed to admit it, but the crew likes to tease me a lot. Doctor is teaching about the practice of a doctor so that when he passes, I will become a doctor on Father's ship. His accomplice is studying to be the surgeon on our sister ship. The crew teases me on paying too much attention to my studies and not enough on the sea. Moreover, I am the only girl on this ship. Two fortnights ago, the crewmembers we tossing around the doctor's old medical book that I was supposed to be reading on gangrene, the subject of that days lesson. One of the older cabin boys, who pick on me often, missed the book and it went overboard. Therefore, I ran to where it fell and jumped in to get it not paying any mind. All that was in my head was that we could not get books very often and this one especially was not going to be left to ruin. I did rescue the book, right before I hit the anchor the men were supposed to pull up half and not three quarters up the side of the ship with my arm and it stung badly. I simply climbed up the anchor and its chain as I climbed, soaking wet, onto the deck. As usual Father, with his black hair whipping across his clean-shaven face and his blue eyes sharp as daggers, towered in front of me. He yelled at me for risking my life for a book. I did not dare show any signs of hurt on my face in front of him so I just bowed my head and hid my arm behind my back. I could tell by the looks on the other sailor's faces that the wound was awful. After a spell, his face became it's normal self and told me that I did a very good stunt with climbing the anchor and he patted my right shoulder of the arm that was hurt. I winced in agony as he walked away, the pain becoming unbearable as the boy, no older then seventeen came and helped me down to the sink bay. The doctor was there and he had a smile on his face. So you rescued my book did you? He asked. Well, let us take a gander at your arm. I greatly apologized to the cabin boy since my wrist got blood on his tunic, but he thought nothing of it just smiled and left. I was grateful that I was wearing on of my much worn dresses to day that I was sure father would not miss so I would just use the dress as scraps when I patch up the holes on the crews' attire. I will not do father's of course because the fabric has flowers on it and he would be very displeased. The crew won't know as long as I bleach the cloth first to dull its color. As my mind started to wander, I was brought down to reality with a sharp pain going up my arm. I asked the doctor what he was doing and he replied that my wrist was broken and I had a gash on my arm that he just finished sewing. The pain was from me trying to move my wrist. I asked him if I would develop any sort of…infections I believe they are called and he said not as long as I keep the wound clean and wash it out with fresh water every day. I have already washed it out to day and…Alas. Father has seen my arm in a splint. Now he will yell at me for getting hurt. I know he will know I hurt it when I fetched the book. I will write later.