Dear Diary,
    After the carriage ride out of the city to the wharf, being jostled around like rag dolls as I think we hit every rut and hole on the roads.  I avoided going to my cabin because the air was fresh and spring-like on deck. After we cast off and left the wharf in our wake, I noticed dark clouds forming in the distance and we are sailing directly toward them.

 Later…
    I am taking a moment here in my small cabin to record the fact that I have left Philadelphia, made it to the wharf, and boarded the ship that will take me back to the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay.  I prefer to be on deck where I can draw in that most special tang of sea salt in the air.  

    Mr. Mercer is with us.  My husband assured me the man was quiet and dependable.  He was right.  He did an excellent job making sure that my trunks and cases were conveyed to the ship and stowed below.  Eliza, my maid, has arranged things so that everything I will need for the voyage will be readily at hand.  My thick wool cape and shawl, not meant for the streets of Philadelphia, are quite serviceable at keeping away the chill of being in the open air.  

    We will not be long on the water, I am sure.  The captain assures me that the signs of good weather are present.  That is a great relief.

     Before we cast off (I am beginning to pick up the lingo of sailors), I stood at the rail and gazed east at the changing colors of the sky heralding the coming of dawn.  It was romantic, almost poetic. If only our entire voyage could be like these quiet moments.  The gentle rocking of the ship soothes me as I hope my baby will feel when it is time to go to sleep in my arms.  

    Oh, there is great commotion on deck.  I hear the mad screeching of the gulls announcing our departure.  We must be casting off.  

    Eliza has come to me in a dither, wanting to go up on deck.  I will finish these last few lines then join her.  Grateful for her company, I agreed for I should not sit here thinking what it means that we shall be under sail, remembering all I am leaving behind.  I must think of this as an adventure to be relished and enjoyed. 

 A few hours later…

    I would prefer to be on deck, but it started to rain.  Eliza was fussing that I must not take cold.  With no other choice since we have left the safety of a port, I have retired to my cabin.  Here, I can feel the ship rocking.  I look around this small space.  Everything is wet.  If it is not wet, it is damp.  Water is seeping through the wood itself.  Are we sinking?

A storm is upon us.  Boat pitching.  Ink spilled.  Want to be on deck.  Captain says no.  High waves. Heavy rain. Strong winds. 

The noise.  Men’s boots overhead.  Wood creaking.  I am fearful and sick.  My constant companion is bucket.  The stench

Dear Diary,

    I have been so weak from the battering of the storm, I could not lift the pen.  I have lost count of the days.  It was Eliza who nursed me through such a time of sickness.  She will be such a help to me through my pregnancy and when my time comes.

    I marvel that she was barely affected.  Maybe it is because of her recent voyage to the Colonies from England.  I could not have indentured myself as she has to pay for passage at her age.  I am glad she is with us.

    We have landed on Kent Island unexpectedly.  The Captain thought it best for us to land here.  There are reports of more storms coming.  Mr. Mercer, my escort, agrees.  He told me early spring storms are unpredictable and sometimes violent on the water.  My head and stomach can attest to the truth of that statement.  He has determined we shall rest here for a short time so I may recover my strength.  

    The afternoon was bright and calm.  I walked along the shore and felt the Bay of my home strengthening me.  I feel so free here, seeing the wispy white clouds floating across the grand dome of the sky all the way to the horizon.  Here, there are no buildings to interrupt the view.  The breeze is clearing away the smell of tar, wet rope, and the dampness everywhere.   The sound of water lapping against the land and wood docks is chasing away the creaking of the ship and the snap of the sails.  I thought if I did not die from seasickness, the boat would break apart and drown us all.  Eliza took every movement of the boat, every crash of a wave in her stride.  

    I hope the calmness of today continues since Mr. Mercer has decided it would be best to complete our journey by boat.  The roads here are rough and deeply rutted.  I understand that traveling on the Eastern Shore is best done by boat as long as the weather does not forsake us.   

    We shall rest for another day then continue to Waterwood.  In the meantime, the land of my birth shall  fortify me.