Somewhere in the Bay of Bengal – October 1635
The deck plummeted. Anders Kiersted, captain of the Danish trading vessel Pelican, braced himself behind the helmsman. "Steady as you go, Kris."
The helmsman said nothing, just continued to fight with the rudder in the stormy seas.
Anders closed his eyes briefly in prayer, then said, "Not Ran, not Neptune, not even the Devil is going to keep me from getting this old bucket into port," he ended with a growl.
"Captain! On the bow!"
Anders opened his eyes to see a huge wave that looked higher even than the mast. He brushed the helmsman aside. "Hold onto something!" Driving straight into the wave would flood the ship and sink them for sure. There was just one chance. Anders spun the wheel. Just a couple of points would do it, and they would climb the wave at an angle, instead of driving through it.
With a rush the wave was on them. The stem-post bit into the wave, and then they were climbing, like a shot fired from a cannon. Much faster than he'd expected, they reached the top and the ship fell like a stone.
As they fell down the face of the wave, the main mast itself seemed to shift significantly, up and down. Then they were in the trough that followed the wave, and the ship smashed into the water. The whole ship shook. Something was wrong. He felt it in the helm.
The carpenter came running up from below, "Captain! Captain! We're leaking. I think we've cracked the keel."