30 July - Last night we were happy that we're nearing England. Weather was fine and all sails were set. I went to bed tired and slept soundly, but was woken up by firstmate saying that both the helmsman and the man on watch were missing. Now the only ones left on board to operate the ship is me, my firstmate and two hands.
1 August - Haven't seen another boat in two days because of the fog. I had hoped that we could signal for help once in the English Channel. Not having the man power to work the sails, we dare not lower them for we would not be able to raise it again. We are drifting into some terrible nightmare. The firstmate is now worse than the two hands. His strong will seem to work against himself. They are beyond fear, focusing on work, with their minds believing in the worst. The hands were Russian and the firstmate Roumanian.
2 August, midnight - I woke up hearing a cry from what seemed to be from outside my window. Couldn't see anything with the fog. I rushed on deck right into the firstmate telling me that he heard the cry and ran, but did not see the man on watch. Another one gone. Lord, help us! Firstmate said we must be past the Straits of Dover, because he caught a glimpse of North Foreland when the fog lifted for a moment as he heard the man's cry. If so we are off the North Sea and only God can guide us in the fog, that seems to move with us. Has God abandoned us?