Dear Sweet Betsy,

I know not why He has set His face against me, but once again the good Lord sent His wind and waves to torment us.

Not only are damages incurred to our fragile produce, now dangerously close to overtopping even the most pessimistic estimates of our original incorporation, but this somehow even-more-terrible storm also carried away five good souls: stout Englishmen all, three of them married men with children of their own.

And the butcher’s bill did not stop at that tragic human flotsam. 

Fully a dozen more men were wounded before the tempest had supped a full cup of our misery. Two lost limbs, and they have the bosun, a sharp knife and a double measure of ship’s rum to thank for their lives, even as incomplete as they ever now will be. One of the cabin boys, barely old enough to qualify for a berth, hovers as close to death as a Christian soul can without already finding himself rendering accounts at the feet of the Saviour. 

I pray he lives or, failing that, his end be swift and painless. 

Suffice to say, this was a time I would not wish upon an enemy and will not soon forget. But the news is not all bad, my love. I am entrusting this all too brief letter into the care of Captain Kimber. Even on so vast a watery desert, such chance meetings are still possible and an opportunity to be gleefully seized. 

Kimber chanced upon us while the debris was still fresh on our decks. He was running ahead of a fresh westerly which seems almost benign as it carries him swiftly home to England. Would that I could take passage with him, but for now these words must serve as avatar for my affections and assurances of my eventual return to the warm bosom of your heart.

Kimber assures me he will see this brief note safely on its way before taking on fresh supplies and racing onwards again to the western coast in the hope of collecting new stock while the market still clamours for fresh product. 

Yes, Betsy, rejoice! All is not lost! 

Kimber, with the gold still heavy and cold in his pocket, recounts how this past summer has been especially brutal for the colonies. Even now, they are in dire need of replenished stocks and supplies. He assures me we will find welcoming arms and deep pockets awaiting our long-delayed arrival.

There is hope my dear, sweet Bessie. There is hope.