The morning sun shone over the boundless sea. The vast ocean was as clear as the sky, with not a single island in sight, only three sailing ships voyaging day and night. The sky was as azure as the open sea, with no trace of any storm, only the occasional seabird appearing. This was a broad, unknown deep sea, filled with mysterious imaginings, never known to the civilized world.
In this endless ocean, everyone was filled with fear and anticipation, yet none knew where they had truly arrived. Only from the navigational records could people gain a little comfort, learning how far they had already sailed—and that distance was also the dreaded road of retreat when the time came to return...
"Thursday, September 6. The expedition fleet departed La Gomera. On this day, the sea was calm and the wind was still. The fleet sailed through the waters of the islands and did not get very far... And from passing sailing ships, we received news that three Portuguese sailing ships were cruising around the Canary Islands... Mm, very likely to stop us!... Yes, the Lord is witness! These ships must have been sent by the King of Portugal after he learned that the outstanding commander of the expedition had pledged loyalty to the great Queen Isabella, and grew jealous in his heart!..."
"Friday, September 7. On this day, the sea was calm and the wind was still. There was no wind suitable for sailing, so we continued circling around the islands..."
"Saturday, September 8. At three in the night, we finally waited until the northeast wind arrived, and the fleet turned its rudders west!... The wind and waves were fierce, and we could not raise full sail. By midnight, we had only made nine leagues..."
The flagship Santa Maria had