It was the September of 1620. The Plymouth waterfront I was alive with the hustle and bustle of human traffic making preparation for the departure of the Mayflower. The Pilgrims no longer had the services of the Speedwell. True, there she was — riding the tide out in the bay, anchored near to the Mayflower, but the Pilgrims could not be satisfied that she was fit to take them to their desired home. Repairs at Dartmouth had proved a failure. Master Reynolds had demonstrated, yet again, he could not be trusted. As a consequence, some of the Pilgrims had decided to withdraw from the voyage and set up their homes in England. But the rest had made up their minds they would reach Virginia. They were determined to go on. They had already started to transfer their cherished belongings to the Mayflower from the near-deserted Speedwell.
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