Caribbean Region
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Early Caribbean Voyages (circa 100 CE)
Entry 1
Date: Early Spring, 100 CE
Location: Coqui Harbor, Island of Ayiti
We set sail today with the salt breeze fresh and the sun kind on our backs. The crew is lively, and I sense a shared anticipation—each man and woman eager to discover what lies beyond the familiar shores of Nereidonia. Our goal, as laid before us by the Council of Elders, is clear: map the unknown coastlines of the Great Islands, locate new sources of food and water, and, if fortune permits, establish trade with the island people rumored to live here.
There is an eagerness among us, a hum of excitement; it is one thing to hear tales of the islands, another entirely to be the ones who will draw their shape upon the Nereidonian charts. Many of us are filled with visions of verdant lands and bountiful harvests. The wind has been in our favor since departure, as if urging us forward. All the omens appear favorable.
As I gaze back at Coqui disappearing over the horizon, I wonder if future generations will see these islands not as foreign lands but as part of our wider world. We sail northward, each hour carrying us further into mystery and potential.
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Entry 2
Date: Day 12 at Sea, First Landfall
Location: Uncharted Island, Greater Antilles
Land! A small island rose on the horizon this morning, green and crowned with unfamiliar trees. We anchored in a shallow bay to the west, where the sands slope gently into clear waters. Our first task, as directed, was to document the bay’s safe anchorage and to seek fresh water. The streams here are plentiful, flowing from the high ground to the coast. Their waters are crisp and good, a blessing after days on brackish rations.
I noted that the coastline bends southwestward in a gentle arc, forming a natural harbor that could shield ships from the seasonal storms. We spent the day charting this bay, marking the reefs and currents with care. These waters are lively with small fish, darting in silver schools. As we work, the crew’s spirits are high; the sight of land has renewed our sense of purpose. Our charts begin to take shape, and there is a satisfaction in seeing each line bring this island into clearer understanding.
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Entry 3
Date: Day 17, Continued Exploration
Location: Ciboney Settlement on Western Shores
Today, we ventured inland and encountered a small community, set amid groves of tall, leafy trees bearing fruits unknown to us. They welcomed us cautiously, curious and yet cautious. They called themselves the Ciboney people, cousins of the Taino who formed Nereidonia’s first city of Coqui. The village is adorned with woven mats and garments, showing remarkable skill in weaving and dyeing with colors I can only describe as rich, earthen reds and deep greens.
They shared a fruit, red-skinned and spined, which the locals call chacara. Its flesh is sweet and cooling, quite unlike anything on our neighboring island. We also took note of a handful of herbs they grow here—one, a medicinal plant used to ease fevers, may well prove useful back home. They allowed us to observe their fishing techniques, which involve long nets of their own making, cast in the shallows and skillfully woven from plant fibers.
The crew murmurs of the potential for these plants and methods to improve life in our homeland. I have sketched both the fruit and the herbs, noting their uses as best I can from observation and what little I’ve learned of their language. Each discovery seems to stitch us closer to the land and its people, and I wonder at what we might yet learn from them.
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Entry 4
Date: Day 20, Coastal Survey
Location: Waters Surrounding Greater Antilles
Our survey of these waters has been thorough, noting every area where fish gather in great numbers. Shoals of tarpon, great silvery fish that leap clear of the water, were especially abundant in the shallows near the southeastern edge of the island. We marked this area on our maps for future fishing grounds, which could provide ample resources for settlers or trade expeditions.
Also noted were clusters of oyster beds along the rocky outcrops in the northeastern bay, a promising source of food and perhaps even pearls. These waters, it seems, are a wealth unto themselves, and the crew has taken to calling this island “Choreto” or “Abundance” for the riches we find here.
With each resource documented, we draw this new land into our sphere, ensuring it can serve our people for generations to come.
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Entry 5
Date: Day 25
Location: Ciboney Village on Western Shore
Today, we were honored with a formal welcome by the Ciboney, their elders assembled to greet us with song and rhythmic clapping. Some among our crew—those descended from Coqui’s founders—recognized elements of the ceremony, subtle reminders of home. The Ciboney’s movements and the cadence of their chants were similar to customs of our own forebears, who came from Coqui with its Taino and Egyptian roots. For others, though, the ceremony was both strange and fascinating, their eyes wide as they observed the mix of familiarity and difference in each gesture.
The Ciboney custom of exchanging gifts quickly set us at ease. Their offerings were modest but meaningful—bundles of woven grasses, dried fish, and a remarkable red dye derived from a small berry I had not seen before. We responded in kind, presenting our own modest provisions of dried fruit and small metal tools. They marveled at our metalwork, touching each piece gingerly, and though their words were foreign, their admiration was clear. One elder motioned to the tools, mimicking the action of pounding grain, a universal gesture that brought laughter from both sides.
In this time, I began picking up the basics of their language, learning that the word for “friend” is akwai and “stranger” is marua. This small lexicon grows as we listen and observe, and I wonder if one day it might be part of a shared tongue, bridging our cultures.
As night descended, they lit a fire and shared a meal of fish and roasted roots. We sat together, Nereidi and Ciboney alike, eating, laughing, and exchanging gestures and words. The fire crackled, casting shadows, and I could see in the faces of my crew a newfound respect, a sense that perhaps we are not so different after all.