Diary Entry 1 -- April 29, 1778

For those curious few who happen upon this, my name is James Hooks, and I am a captain of the Royal British Navy. I feel as though I should keep a sort of...memoir, especially after recent events. You see, I have made a mistake. Well, several mistakes, to be honest, but the mistake in question may actually have a negative impact on the entire future of my beloved country.

Seven days ago, I was assigned to the HMS Drake, the most beautiful warship of the Royal Navy, alongside my oldest and closest friend, Captain George Burdon. I lost track of the number of years that Burdon and I served together, but he has always been there for me, and I have tried my hardest to be there for him. In fact, he is the man that introduced me to my wife, Rose. Putting my thoughts on parchment has made me realize that if not for him, I would never have married my Rosie, and she never would have birthed my son Frederick. My life would be completely empty if not for that man, George Burdon.

I digress. There I go again, getting sidetracked with business that is irrelevant. Ironically, that is exactly how I got into this mess to begin with. You see, a few hours prior to boarding the Drake at the harbor at Carrickfergus, I was met by an Irish docker named William. This man's height fell a full head below my own, though he showed surprisingly little fatigue while he worked. We talked for a spell. I told him of my family and years of service, and he told me how he made his living. He was not quite clear on how he made his coin aside from being a dock labourer, but he did make me a very generous and intriguing offer that no man would be so foolish as to turn down. The specifics of the deal are not important, though. What is important is that it required the abandonment of my post, the abandonment of my duty, and the possible forfeit of my entire military career. 

Shame keeps me from writing more details on that subject at this time. What matters is that, like a fool, I took the deal. I am sure that by now, everyone reading this knows the result of my actions, but for the few uninformed, I did not board the HMS Drake that day, the Royal Navy relieved me entirely of my services, and, worst of all, the Drake was lost to the Continental Navy in a battle on April 24, where Captain George Burdon died. 

I realize that I am to blame for Burdon's death. I wish more than anything to go back and right my selfish wrongs. I am truly ashamed of my actions, and I do not know where to begin mending my life. I cannot even bear to face my Rosie. I sit here on the stoop wondering when, or if, I should enter. What will she say? How could she even stand to look at me? I feel rain coming soon. Writing in this diary has helped me muster the courage to enter. It has been oddly...therapeutic.