Part 1... The Voyage

Well, I know that some people care (not), so I'm entering part 1 here.

My name is Birger… By Sofia
I was born on a farm, and we weren’t particularly rich, but we weren’t particularly poor. But being the youngest AND the best in the field, I was never educated and so there weren’t many career options for me, and illiterate farm-hand.
But I never lost hope that some day, I would rise above my current social status and/or have some sort of adventure! So that’s why I’m starting my story that day, the day that things took a turn for the best/worst.
There was a little homeless man, mucking about in the mud, and there was a wealthy looking fellow who was strolling down the street and looking smug. I was buying some chickenfeed for my family’s farm, and I couldn’t help but overhear the wealthy man… Axel, I think he was called talking to this grubby boy named Rudolf. They were talking about how Axel could give this Rudolf a better life, how Rudolf could go on a voyage to the new world. They would sail on a grand ship… called the Kermit Noggel, I think he said.
What? I had been a good person all my life. Always helped out on the farm when I was told, always helped others, and always obeyed my parents! So why was this muddy little boy getting to fulfill his dreams when he had spent his whole life thieving and grubbing in the mud?
“I WANT TO SAIL ON THE KERMIT NOGGEL!” I wailed girlishly. But then I realized what a scene I was making and tried to shield my tears. I was getting some odd stares from a man with features too devilish to describe.
The Axel fellow noticed me and came over. “You want to sail on the Kalmar Nyckel? You think you’re a worthy seaman?”
“Um… yes?” I whimpered.
“Well, you should get permission from your family, but there is space for you on our ship,” he replied.
I was overjoyed! I ran home to my parents as fast as I could and asked them if I could become a sailor. They agreed, and to tell the truth, they seemed glad to be rid of me. Strange… oh well. I didn’t dwell on it for too long, because… I was sailing on the Kermit Noggel! Goodbye, country bumpkin aura! I’m a sophisticated sailor, now!
But I did actually have to wait a bit. It took nearly a year for all the provisions to be made, and our captain Peter Minuit finally told us we could board the ship. As I entered the ship with all my belongings in my sea chest, I recognized a few faces. There was kind Axel, talking with Peter Minuit. The grubby boy was standing awkwardly by the helm, dressed slightly better but still stinking of dirty pigs. Even the man with the devilishly sly grin that had stared at me earlier was there.
We all stood in line so that Peter Minuit could inspect his crew. I stood beside a man named Engelbrckt, who had fair, fluffy hair and a prodigious girth. “Hi!” I whispered. We would later become good friends.
As he inspected us, Peter Minuit announced what we would be in the new world. Axel would be an officer, naturally, what with his impeccable taste in sailors. The indescribable man—who answered to the name Randy—was also an officer, poor decision making in my opinion. That grubby Rudolf was also an officer, which annoyed me because I was not. Engelbrckt was a farmer, and I prayed for anything but that when Peter called my name. Of course, though, I was a farmer. Because why would I get something I wanted? The thought of it!
We set sail that day, November 1st, 1637. A cold, blustery day. Bells rung and I found myself swabbing the deck until my hands became red as the rooster. Four bells later, I stood up and felt my stomach rumbling. Four hours, it had been! I was starving!
I started to go get some food when I saw Randy poking his head around the corner and staring at me. I shuffled a bit quicker away and was glad to see the cook had a large meal made for us. I started to take my fill when Axel came up to me. “Might not want to do that,” he warned. “If you’re caught taking more than the ration, you’ll be put in the hold.” I nodded and put back some stew.
“What’s the hold?” I asked.
“It’s a dark area below the deck. It gives me the willies just thinking about it!”
The next day there was a large storm and the captain took us into port. We all had much cabin fever and we were very excited to finally set sail, that cold day of December 31,1637.
Engelbrckt and I sat down together at the table and started eating our dried meats. He handed me some rum. I was somewhat taken aback, I suppose.
“Why, Engelbrckt! You know if we get caught drunk we will be put in the hold!” I said. “Don’t we have any water?”
“Yick, the water goes bad, I’ve heard. I don’t know how long it takes, but I don’t want to find any worms in my drink,” he told me. I took a small sip of the rum, wanting more but restraining myself.
Engelbrckt, however, took a long, hard swig, and another, and another. He started to act somewhat stupid and I looked around nervously. There was Randy, again, looking around the corner! He was an officer, he’d punish Engelbrckt! I tried to make Engelbrckt act sensible, but the poor bloke was too drunk to understand. Randy disappeared around the corner and came back with Peter Minuit.
“You dirty farmer!” the captain cried. “You’re drunk!”
I watched as they took Engelbrckt to the hold. I looked on sadly and then sniffed myself. It had been six months since I had a bath; I was due for another one!
Night came and I saw one of the sailors using the stars to guide him. I looked up and just saw a bunch of shiny dots, but thankfully, I wasn’t one of the sailors and didn’t have to understand the code. The sailor cast something over the side. “Forty fathoms!” he called. “No bottom!”
I had no clue what that meant, but I headed over to get some water. Beside me, one of Randy’s friends, Bailey, was drinking from his cup. He started choking and spat out the largest worm I have ever seen! It landed on his neck and nearly strangled him, but he threw it down and it slithered into… the captain’s quarters! We called together a group of people, and some distracted Peter Minuit while the others snuck into his cabin and trapped the worm. I watched as Rudolf shoved the worm in a bag and threw it over the side of the ship. I suppose you still have to do some dirty work as the captain.
A few days later, Axel remembered about Engelbrckt, God rest his soul. We went down into the hold, and a few hours later, we were all at a service for the poor man.
No one on the ship knew him, so I decided to say a few words. “I barely knew him, but even as we first met, I knew he was a good person. Why, anyone with that kind of stomach had to be some sort of culinary connoisseur! Why did the dumb man have to get so drunk? If only he hadn’t, he might still be with us! Poor, poor, drunk, starving, fat Engelbrckt. Rest in peace, my friend.”
I stepped down and got a lot of odd stares, this time not just from Randy. But I didn’t dwell on it. I sobbed as they threw his large corpse overboard. My good friend… my good friend… lost to the sea.
But he was not the only one to be lost.
That night, we were all somewhat troubled by the death of Engelbrckt. A few lumpy mattresses down from me, there was a disturbance. I heard Helmer yelp and saw him kick someone… I can’t really recall what happened after that, but I know that a few minutes later, there was brouhaha and everyone was punching and kicking.
“Come on now, violence is not the answer!” I cried. “Why once back on the farm, I was trying to beat up a chicken because it was sitting on my favorite toy, and it nearly pecked off my fingers! So let’s just talk this over…”
“Aw, do shut up!” someone yelled, and before I knew what was happening, I was punched in the eye and was kicking, yelling, scratching, punching, and biting like there was no tomorrow.
Poor decision making on my part, I know. But I was punished because I found myself lying on the ground, pretending to be unconscious so I won’t get punched anymore. My eyes closed, I heard someone enter and a few shots fired. A scream and a gasp. A BIG gasp. Then I heard a splash. I decided to go to sleep for a little bit and wake up when this was over.
I woke up a few hours later and saw Barbro lying dead on the ground and people crying for Helmer and looking mournfully over the side of the ship. I decided that this was not the best time to wake up and went back to sleep.
The next day there was a large storm and the captain took us into port. We all had much cabin fever
I was kicked awake by Randy who looked somewhat bored.
“Whadja do that for?” I asked, annoyed.
“Boredom,” he replied, and left quickly.
I got up and went to my prayers session. I had to go twice a day, and although I am a very religious man, it was getting annoying. I hadn’t had time to finish the small, wooden pipe I was trying to whittle out of rotting wood, yet.
I left the prayer session considerably grumpy and sore from the kick and went to work on repairing the sails. I had never worked with a needle and thread before, so my fingers started bleeding. Stupid needle, I muttered, sucking on my cut.
It was pretty hot outside, especially for early January, so I wondered what was up. I looked down and saw smoke rising from the kitchen. “Oh, dear,” I said. I climbed down the ropes and saw a sight to make even Randy shudder.
One of the cooks, Martin Luther, was on fire. And I mean ON FIRE, head to heels on fire. He was running around screaming and I tried to tell him to stop, drop, and roll, but my attempts were fruitless. He had already brushed up against the wooden wall (yes, wooden) and so the ship was now burning. The other cooks and I call all the other hands on the ship to extinguish the fire, but unfortunately, there was no saving Martin Luther. That day, we had another service to the fourth man down on the ship, and I decided that because no one else would, I should go up and speak.
“I didn’t know Martin. At all,” I began. “I mean, I couldn’t even associate his name with a face before now. But I do know that his burning was totally uncalled for. We should definitely have a moment of silence for him after we dump him off the ship. Poor guy. Another man down,” I finished and whimpered a bit.
The point wasn’t really sinking in, because I just got some weird stares. But there was no dwelling on it; I wailed for this man I didn’t know. I wailed because I think he was the one who put out the best dried beef. All the other cooks would put out the salted meats that didn’t taste good. The dried biscuits, peas, and onions made my tongue hurt.
The rest of the day was quiet. Everyone was somewhat upset about the death of Martin Luther, particularly because that was four men dead and four is a lot of lives to be lost over a course of a few weeks. Nearly everyone took an extra long swig of rum to ease the pain of another passing, and I don’t know who started it, but I do remember getting socked in the face and watching as a beer brawl took place in the eating area. This other guy, Vilhelm, must have had a heart attack or something, because he died then and there on the ground. But when we threw him over board, he screamed, “I’M ALIVE!” so he must have just passed out. Or it might have been, “I believe I can fly!” I couldn’t really tell. But we had a service for him the next day anyway.
(Note: It has been said that Vilhelm drifted to an island and became the chieftain. Nobody knows.)
At the service, no one volunteered to speak, so I did.
I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I winged it. “Um… I didn’t know this man, but I know that he was a good person and let us hope that he either ended up as an island chieftain or went to heaven. Rest in peace.”
“Amen,” everyone ended. Suddenly there was much weeping.
My speech was a success! Hooray!
We arrived in the New World in March. We had been sailing for months, and that had taken a toll on some of our sailors, particularly Filip. He had become delirious and jumped off the ship, trying to swim to land. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t swim, and so when we reached land, we held a service for him.
Randy spoke at that service.
About that Randy… I always get the strangest feeling he’s following me. But that might just be because I’m a stupid farmhand. But maybe I’ll actually get to be head farmer in the New World!
I don’t really care. I just want to get OFF THIS STUPID SHIP!!!! I was tired of using the vile holes in the head! Tired of swabbing the deck with salt water at five A.M.! Tired of watching the captain and the first mate get the best sleep! I wanted OUT!
And thus, I conclude this American Diary. I hope that the next time I report, I will have better tidings than the many misadventures upon this Kermit Noggel.

Sincerely, Birger
A Simple Farmhand, trying to make it BIG in the new world. Here’s hoping that I might be more than I am now.
March 1638