Solitaire Peep is pleased, for the crew is relieved from rowing, and they do not grumble so much over the half rations the Captain has ordered. Though we are still in Spanish waters, the sea has changed from a blue as bright as a robin’s egg to a brown deeper than brewed tea. Peep says that as we sail closer to La Florida, the water will begin to look like new spring grass. On the parchment, I make note of such things, for Peep says changes in the sea’s color are almost as useful as the markings of a map. Yesterday, Ratty Tom called a Spanish ship on the horizon. By the Captain’s orders we stood ready, our pistols filled with shot and our daggers sharpened. Gunther moved the cannons into place, and Peep ordered the firepots uncovered, but the enemy suddenly turned and sailed quickly away. He said that the sun’s glint off the Yellow Jack is a powerful warning; even those who are tempted to fire upon the Queen’s ship will not sail near. I have worn my new uniform since the morning after the storm.
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