The Hispaniola did not feel particularly fast to Renato. According to Captain De Leon, the magical warship could reach fifteen knots with a following wind, and her best record was nearly three hundred nautical miles in a single day.
Even at her highest speed, reaching their destination, White Harbor at the farthest end of the Kingdom of Marispan, would take at least ten days.
But a sailing ship could not maintain top speed at all times, constrained as it was by natural conditions. Right now, for instance, the sea was calm and the wind was blowing across the ship's side, leaving the Hispaniola making fewer than ten knots.
Drawing on his experience, the captain revised his estimate: this voyage would take at least fifteen days.
Once the novelty of the first few days wore off, Renato began to find the unchanging seascape dull.
Everywhere he looked, the same water surrounded them. The same-colored sea stretched all the way to the horizon, merging with the sky.
Occasionally, a few seabirds swept past the stern, circled above the crests of the waves, then vanished. Apart from the monotonous slap of waves against the hull and the flapping of canvas in the wind, the sea was so quiet it seemed almost mute.
Renato had planned to pass the idle hours by fishing that day. He had borrowed a rod and an iron hook from a sailor, baited it with a small piece of salted fish, and lowered the line over the side.
But after several hours without a single bite, he could not help doubting himself. Was his fishing really that bad? Could he not even catch one ordinary little fish?
After spotting Renato fishing at the stern from the Captain's Quarters, De Leon stepped out through the cabin door with a smile,